Dukes Mayo

There is no doubt that Dukes Mayonnaise is one of the foundations of southern style eating. I love this stuff! Creamy with just the right amount of zing.... it makes a nanner sammich a thing of beauty. I sincerely wish I liked to eat tomatoes. I can imagine that there would be nothing else that said yummm like a good mater sammich with a load of mayo, a little salt & pepper between 2 pieces of Bunny bread. Even so, the nanner sammich is enough for me.

But let me say as well that it adds that zing to ranch dressing, cheese balls, potato salad, slaw and chicken salad. I'm sure it works just as well in tuna salad but I just can't push myself past that tuna smell. My mother went through a "tuna" diet of some sort when I was young. I still twitch at times, thinking about the smell that permeated every part of our house.

We also use it on any and all sammiches including (but NOT limited to) grilled cheeses, sloppy joes and bologna sammiches. I bet we go through GALLONS of it every month or two. Of course, there are 6 people who live here and many more who come over and spend the night with the kids. Yes, I know that it is greasy and adds many layers of fat to my belly (that wonderful *visceral* fat.... nothing says loving like adding padding by way of mayo!). It is, believe it or not, sugar free and cholestoral free! Whether it was or not, I'd die happy if my assassin was the mayo man. You know how the southern cooks use words like "slather" and "dredge". This is because of 3 things. Lard, Butter (my absolute ALL TIME FAV! My love for butter is another post for another time.) and mayo.

Just as an FYI on Dukes... an obviously lovely southern lady from South Carolina, Ms Eugenia Duke, is the creator of Dukes Mayonnaise. It is still made in Greenville, South Carolina although now, according to the Dukes web site, they churn out about 240 jars per minute. I think Dukes is like Sundrop and has not been very far past its borders. I'm pretty sure you can't find it in the west. The best thing is that the company hasn't screwed around with the recipe. It's the same as it was over a hundred years ago. (Take THAT, Pepsi & Coke!!)

For more information and a way to buy the creamy dream.... http://dukesmayo.com/

Oh and no, I'm not trying to sell it. It just struck me as something I wanted to jabber on about on the blog. :o)
Go Dukes Mayo!

A Fourth....

I do believe my mind is flip flopping all over the place again. The ideas I want to put down are swirling around, a wisp of thought floating by and gone again. You'll just have to put up with the dizzying turns my mind is taking if you read this. Don't say I didnt' warn you. :o)

Happy July 4th. Isn't it wonderful that we can be here to utter that oft said phrase?

It is so easy to let it roll of the tongue with a corner of your mouth curled into a small smile for the person passing by.

Keeping my eyes straight ahead I walk down the sidewalk, enjoying the sights and sounds of people celebrating the day. Do they really celebrate the day or celebrate because they have an excuse to celebrate? I'm just as much into it as everyone else; it is fun to be jolly and have a good time.

But... do any of us take the moment to think back to why we are doing this? It is not my intention to tell a history lesson. I wanted to mull over what we, as a nation, are doing today. There are many articles and speeches today about taking the moment to appreciate the fact that we can do this, this moment of reflection. I'm not crazy about using that term, 'reflection', because it is not something I think people do at all anymore unless it there is a specific reason to do so such as making speeches and writing articles.

I am going to try not to be a hypocrite and tell anyone to reflect. I am going to try to do it myself though. I do sincerely appreciate what our forefathers have done for us. I do appreciate what our troops do for us today and all of those years in between.

As a person, I'm not sure I would be in this frame of mind if it wasn't for a family member who is in the armed forces at this moment, serving overseas away from his family and home. I love my sister and for her husband to be away from her and their boys is terrible but I believe in what he is doing. My husband, who has never served, is the apex of our family. I believe in him just as much because he believes in our great nation and the values we try to uphold. He may never serve his country in a position where he has to fight. I truly hope it never comes to that but he is just as much a believer as those who place themselves in dangerous situations.

So maybe we should celebrate not only what our nation has achieved, not only what our troops are achieving now but also the fact that we are here holding the values that we live. I can hope that the American people are subconciously thinking about the reason we have this day while they party on.

Bozo Button

This is my bozo button.
I love my bozo button. I made it. It's not the best graphic of all time or even remotely close. I still like it. I can pretend to pin it on the person that has ticked me off at the time. Like anyone else, I have my days of calm... 'it's all relative..... ohhhmmmmmm' and I have my days of....... 'what in the bejeebers is that q-tip thinking??????? or is she thinking at all????'.
Mostly that kicks in while driving behind little old white-haired ladies who can't see over the steering wheel while driving in a car that has never seen the speedometer go over 3o mph.

The other day, I was pretending I had a bozo button in my car. I was coming through a 35 mph zone when Mr. Motorcycle (I believe they are referred to as "crotch rockets") seemed to enjoy sniffing my back bumper. I'm no dummy, I'm doing 40 mph and no more. I have no desire for a ticket, no desire for my insurance rates to soar from a speeding ticket. This little motorcycle guy was pushing me for all he was worth. We came out of the 35 mph zone into a 45 mph zone while crossing the 2nd and last bridge. It was just killing him to have to putt-putt behind my little car doing 50 mph at this point. He even showed off his little toot-toot horn by blowing it while riding behind me. Did I ask him to stay there? Did I lose my temper? No, not yet. When he went around me in a curve at the top of the hill which was *also* at an intersection, putting my child and myself in danger, I most certainly lost my temper! I was sooooooo close to letting the bird free! He got in one last toot-toot on his little horn, too, as he went by.
Knowing how road rage is a nasty problem on the road today, I bit my tongue and kept my fingers to myself. I'm thinking at the same time, "although he passed me in a no passing zone, althought he was acting like a jerkwad for the last 2 miles, he was lucky no one was coming in the opposite lane and we are safe".
I think the thought had no more passed through the other side of my head when that bozo turned around, held his fist up like he had something in it and then flung it at my windshield.
What?!?!???
NOOOOOOOO HE DIDN'T!!
Oh yes, he did.
That bozo was very lucky he had nothing in his hand and that I have good reflexes.

What happened to people that it has to come to this (or worse)???

I know that from the beginning of automobile time there has been anger on the road. There was probably some road rage from the first wreck in history. For the most part, living in the country, we never saw such things. We may have gotten mad as an old, wet hen but we bit our tongues out of good manners and let it roll off our backs. As mad as that motorcycle bozo made me, chances are that I won't remember it by this time next year. There have been other instances where I've had one of my kids (or all of them) with me and something equally as frightening happening. I remember going 3 wide like on the Charlotte Motor Speedway (I will NOT bend to Lowes!) on an old country road because somebody tried to pass an oncoming car. I am 99% sure that the passing car didn't see me. I remember it because it was scary not because I was mad at the passing car. I'm also sure that the guy driving was piddling in his pants from the look on his face. If we had hit, it would have been a horrible accident but that's exactly what it would have been: an accident. Not an "on purpose". So many people these days revert to road rage because they are just positive that car swerved to hit them. Out of the 50 cars on the road, they picked their car to hit.
Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I can say that instead of road rage, I'm keeping my bozo button. It's got a lot of work to do.

A Gift for the Homeschool Mom

A Gift for the Homeschool Mom
Paula Moldenhauer

Come.
Do you hear the
Master calling?
Look, there's a twinkle in His eyes and a huge gift in His
hands. Notice how the golden paper glistens with a metallic gleam. And don't you
just love the big, blood red bow?
A present. Just in time for the
holidays.
Give the big kids an audio classic and put the little ones down to
nap. School can wait. Ignore the dust. Meal preparation can be delayed. No one
will starve, though your teenage son may think he will. You'll be able to face
those holiday preparations with renewed vigor after you've basked in the
Master's generosity.
Your Best Friend is really excited about your gift. He's
done all the work--choosing carefully what you need most, going to great
sacrifice to procure it for you. All that's left is for you to open it. Won't
you focus on Him and unwrap His gift?
You pull the pretty velvet bow apart
and lift the lid. You can't see what's inside, but you can smell it. It smells
like lilacs and fresh cut grass and sunshine. You can feel the present, too.
It's solid as iron, soft as a baby's cheek, and makes you warm all over. You can
even hear your gift. One minute it swells with symphonic melody, the next it
sings with the sweetness of a child. You can almost taste it on your tongue.
It's meat, potatoes, and vegetables--all that is solid and healthy--and it is
also silky chocolate and all that is sweet.
"What is it?" You ask.
"It's
my grace." He speaks with hushed voice, a tinge of emotion lacing His
words.
You stare at the box. You've heard about grace before, but you've
never really experienced it. Who knew that grace would have a smell, a feel, a
taste?
He suggests you reach inside.
You pull out a "G" and
frown.
Jesus chuckles. "G is for guilty no more. Too many times you heap
condemnation upon yourself. The children bicker and you think it's your fault
for not training them well enough. You are overwhelmed with your many tasks and
feel guilty that there's dust on the mantle. Your teen has a meltdown and you
blame yourself, sure that if you'd spent more time with her she'd be
happy.
"But it goes deeper. You beat yourself up for faults and failures I've
erased from your record. I've already forgotten them. There's no need to be
angry with yourself. I gave my life so you could live without condemnation. You
are guilty no more. If you don't believe me, read Romans 8:1. Read it a thousand
times and tape it on your bathroom mirror. Live as you are, my dear: Free from
condemnation."
You have a big lump in your throat and since you can't talk,
you reach back into the box. The letter "R" is in your hand.
The Lord gently
lifts your face to his. "R is for Rest in Me. Come to Me when you labor and are
heavy-laden and overburdened, and I will cause you to rest. I will ease and
relieve and refresh your soul." 1
"I try, but it is so hard to rest,"
You say.
Jesus tilts his head. "Think about when you nursed your last baby.
Do you remember how you cradled him in your arms and he nuzzled to your breast?
You nourished him, body and soul. Even as he was fed, he never took his eyes off
of you. He gazed at you with complete satisfaction, trust, and peace. Rest in me
as your baby rested in you. I will nourish you. I will lead and comfort
you."
Your eyes are glued to the Master, hungry to believe all He is saying,
but there is hesitancy, a fear you don't deserve to rest.
"My daughter, did
your baby do anything to earn your love?"
You shake your head. "No. I loved
him more as I served him, even though he could do nothing to help me."
"In
the same way, I don't expect you to earn My love or the right to rest. I simply
come and say, 'Are you tired? Let me help you. Are you burdened? Let me carry
it. Do you feel guilty or ashamed? Let Me take that and replace it with
forgiveness and acceptance.'"
Little tears gather in your eyes as you listen
to Him. It's so much to absorb and you haven't even spelled out the whole word.
You hesitate. The Lord reaches in the box and pulls out the next letter, "A."
With trembling fingers you reach for it, running your thumb down it's long,
sleek sides.
"It's time for you to accept my unconditional love," He says. "
So often I stand before you with my arms open wide, longing to enfold you in
them, but you duck your head and walk away. You let shame, guilt, or feelings of
inadequacy keep you from Me. I have loved you with an everlasting love. 2
Nothing you've ever done has made me regret that great love and nothing can take
it away.
"When I died on Calvary, I made it possible for us to be in close
relationship. I washed your every misstep away in the river of my blood. There
is nothing to separate us. Yet sometimes you are so determined to make yourself
worthy that you refuse my free, unconditional love." 3
You're weeping freely
now. He's right. The Christian life is about Jesus and the righteousness He
gives. You keep making it about your performance, causing both your pride and
your guilt to keep you from His arms. "I'm sorry." You whisper.
Jesus puts an
arm around you. "Take the next letter."
You reach into the box and hand Him
the "C." He lays it across your heart. "C is for Christ in you, dearest. I am
your hope of glory. You try so hard to be good. Trust Me and let Me make you
good. The good work I've begun in you will be completed. Stop striving. You are
My masterpiece. Will I not finish it?" 4
The Lord reaches into the box for
the last letter. You still weep silently, leaning your head against His
shoulder.
"E is for Empowered. I am the One who empowers you to be all
I've created you to be. Spiritual maturity isn't chasing after good works or
achieving your dreams. It isn't being the perfect mother, wife, or daughter. It
is knowing Me and letting your life flow from our relationship.
"Let me
empower you, dear one. I am the one who gives you the grace to accomplish all I
ask of you." 5
You nod. He hugs you and then kisses your cheek. As He walks
away you finger each letter, His words echoing in your soul. You place the
letters back into the box, one by one:
G-Guilty no moreR-Rest in
ChristA-Accept His unconditional loveC-Christ, my hope of gloryE-Empowered by
His Spirit
You linger with the open box in your lap, breathing in the scent
of grace. There could be no greater gift.

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A home schooling mother of four, Paula Moldenhauer is passionate about God's grace and intimacy with Jesus. Her website offers home schooling hints, book reviews, and a free weekly devotional, Soul Scents. Subscribe to Soul Scents at www.soulscents.us. You can contact Paula at Paula@soulscents.us.

1 Matthew 11:28 (AMP)
2 Jeremiah 31:33
Ephesians 2:134
Philippians 1:6 & Ephesians 2:10 (NLT)5 Philippians 4:13, 2 Timothy 3:17

This article published on Crosswalk.com.

For more homeschool articles, visit http://homeschool.crosswalk.com

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