Last week I strolled over to Daisy Cottage where she never fails to delight readers with photos of her lovely cottage and decorating and recipes. And indeed that day she had posted a recipe for an Apple Crisp that seemed like the Perfect way to get the Scent of Fall into my home.
So it was that on Sunday morning after Mr. Rose had taken me to breakfast and a trip to the grocery store, I pulled out my old Corning ware casserole and made that very Apple Crisp. I first put down the canned Comstock apples, then sprinkled heavily with cinnamon, then the sugar, and because I couldn't find the Jiffy cake mix, I used half a Betty Crocker (pudding in the mix) yellow cake mix, then lavished it all with butter. baked for 50 minutes, because my younger males don't eat nuts. It smelled heavenly cooking!
Served up on my Fallish snack set with Roses and my gold flatware, with half-n-half in my coffee, it was Total Indulgence! And Delicious! I told Mr. Rose if he found me passed out in a Diabetic comma it is because I just needed more Apple Crisp...lol!
It was SO YUMMY!! Thanks Kim!
I also wanted to say thank you for your sweet comments on my blog. It is so fun to visit with each of you! I feel like you dropped by my house for a quick 'hello'. As to sharing my poetry in the last blog...
I can't share any of my poetry. As a teen in high school is was like bearing my soul! I would only share with those who wrote poetry. They were literary friends, I suppose. And I kept it all in a red pocket paper folder buried in a drawer in my desk. It was safe there. When I transfered universities I took that folder, bulging and in need of tidying up, to my new place. That semester I took First Aid...I think it was the only class available and I had to have it for some strange reason. Anyway, after the semester was over I did the 'trash-thing'...threw away my boyfriend (should have left him in the trash but that damn telephone did me in), threw away all my papers and syllabi, all the old notebooks, and my First Aid folder that happened to be in a Red paper pocket folder.
My poetry folder went back in my desk at home, not to be reviewed for 18 months.
Then, in my new apartment with my first job and a new desk to arrange in a second bedroom I retrieved the poetry folder and sat in my bean bag chair in a little corner perfectly laid out for reading and opened the folder to find it was my First Aid folder, not my poetry folder. I was devastated! I tore through everything and the reality was simple. All my poetry and the poetry of friends was in a trash pile somewhere along with my papers and syllabi. I haven't written poetry since. It was a sudden stop at the end of a very fast ride.
Now let me tell you one other little story. YEARS ago my aunt realized she would never have a certain topaz placed in a setting. It had been given to her by her X husband and she was married now to my uncle. On my 16th birthday, she gave me that stone. It was huge and clear and was my birthstone and one day....I could have it set in a beautiful mounting.
One day I would have an old box from my old days with stuff I never went through. That day I would be moving. The men had packed up our house and were pulling out and the new owners of our house had arrived to take possession. I watched my husband drag that box to the street where a small pile of trash would be picked up the next morning. Of course you know what was in that box.
If I had the choice of having one of the two back I would go with the poetry.
Oh well, staying detached is best. We all loose small pieces of ourselves in this life. Wouldn't it be grand if we could loose weight as carelessly as I tossed those items in the trash? LOL!
Hugs to each of you,