Hiatus

Well, I'm back. Sorry for being away so long. There's been a lot going on in the world of Fox, so I've had to take a break from the blog scene for a little bit.

Speaking of little bits....my sis-in-law just had her second child, a beautiful little girl, last Thursday. My family and I traveled to South Florida to visit and to spend time with them for Easter. In addition to Easter and the baby, I've found out the unfortunate news that my cat (that went to live with my dad after my daughter was born) disappeared 3 WEEKS AGO!! And they only decided to tell me now. And, my tooth, which was supposed to be replaced yesterday, came back from the lab the wrong shade (too dark for my pristine pearly whites!) My grandma-in-law moved into her new assisted living apartment on Saturday. And my daughter decided sleep was optional for the past few days. Not to mention the last minute tax return information that keeps arriving from my family members (who, in return for free tax prep, expect a one-day turnover)....I can never truly get away from the accounting career, can I?

So, here I am, back in St. Augustine, with my one day to repack, do laundry, go grocery shopping, do some light housekeeping, plant 2 plumeria trees, pick up dry cleaning, entertain my child, cook dinner, buy a wedding present, and make hotel reservations and an itinerary for tomorrow nigiht....before we are again on the road to North Carolina for a friend's wedding in the mountains. So I have to warn you it will be a while again before I can post, since we will not be anywhere near a computer for the next 5 days. I'll try to get one more out tomorrow before I go, but I'm not making any promises!

State of the Absurd

Well, Florida has done it again. We have manage to make a mockery of ourselves in the political realm one more time. We just can't seem to get it right. It became apparent with the whole hanging chad and recount debacle of 2000, and every year since, our state has debated over and over again the method in which to best appeal to our overwhelming population of senile elderly voters, illegal immigrants, and uneducated rednecks. Yes, now the Florida Democratic Party has decided to bypass us Florida democrat voters entirely, by not allowing our opinions to count when it comes to selecting the democrat presidential nominee. While I guess the rest of the nation is simultaneously sighing in relief, us, Floridian Democrats are feeling a bit wronged. Amazingly, through no fault of our own this time. Florida's democratic committee decided to run our primary in January, breaking its agreement with the DNC not to do such a thing. Great idea that turned out to be! In an attempt to have an early influence on the rest of the primary season, instead we had a sham vote, surely not fully representative of our State since everyone knew the vote was not going to determine which candidate our DNC delegates were going to go to, since our DNC delegates are not to be seated at the convention.

So Florida's Democratic Committee announced earlier this week that a mail-in vote was going to replace the earlier sham vote. Yeah!

Then yesterday they announced there will be no revote by mail. Oh no!

I'm really beginning to believe this is a conspiracy of the utmost secrecy to eliminate Florida entirely from the whole Presidential voting process. You know, by making our votes non-binding by reason of incompetence. It's simple contract law. I believe there is a move by higher-ups to try and forfeit our rights similar to when someone is appointed power of attorney due to a person's incapability to take care of oneself. Our population of senior citizens has become so overwhelming that maybe they just decided it was easier to take away their rights en masse than wasting paper doing it individually. The rest of us are just collateral damage I guess.

Well, maybe they are right to do such a thing. And to heck with them anyway. Let the rest of them decide our nominee for president. And when the world comes tumbling down around us, just know that you will not be able to blame Florida this time.

Shepard's Pie

Okay, so the last three days have been such a drain on my psyche. Between the 14 hours doing yard work, losing all my advertising through Google (and they are not paying me for anything I've made up until now either!), my stubborn two-year old, the economy tanking, our dwindling savings, PMS, and my souffle, it's about time St. Patrick's Day rolled around. There's nothing like a good drinkin'-related holiday to lift one's spirits.

So in honor of good ol' St. Paddy, here is my recipe for Shepard's Pie (adapted from a Kraft Foods recipe.) Okay, I know it's late, so you might have to save this one for next year.

Shepard's Pie

Ingredients:
1lb lean ground beef
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 shallot, minced
1 cup frozen peas, carrots and corn mix, thawed
1 cup beef gravy
1/2 cup ketchup
salt & pepper to taste
2 cups hot mashed potatoes
1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
2 garlic cloves, minced
4oz cream cheese, cut into pieces

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375. Heat oil in large skillet and brown the ground beef. Add the shallots, thawed veggies, gravy, and ketchup to the skillet and stir until well blended. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Pour mixture into 9X9 baking dish. In a large bowl, combine mashed potatoes, cream cheese, garlic, and 1/2 cup of the chedder cheese. Spread the mashed potato mixture evenly on top of the beef mixture. Sprinkle with remaining cheese. Bake for 20 minute until heat through.

In Vino Veritas

A wise person once pondered, "why is it, that we may only be happy but for an hour?"

Lately, I cannot wait until five o'clock rolls around. Yes, the universal time of appropriateness for enjoying that first glass of my favorite grape drink (or mommy's juice, as my daughter likes to shout to everyone as we pass the wine selection at our local supermarket.) Ever since my daughter hit her mid-two's, this special time of day cannot come quickly enough. And before you decide to contact DCF, I am certainly not condoning getting blitzed while caring for a child. I'm just talking about one glass. Actually, I'm just talking about those first few sips...the aahhhhhh factor.

And I guess that is why I'm not ready to have another kid yet. It's pretty selfish of me, but I'm just not capable of giving up that evening glass of vino right now. And after Elle's two bouts with a virus this past winter that kept her (and me) up all night, I'm not so sure I'm ready to give up eight hours of sleep a night, either.

By the way, congratulations, Jen and Ron, on your new little bundle of joy! And my condolences on the loss of your good night's rest.

Souffle

So, my computer made a liar out of me. It's been down for the better part of two days, and I am only now able to play catch up with all my blogs and all my email. But as promised, here is a post for you to enjoy on your relaxing Sunday afternoon (if you happen to live on an island in the eastern Pacific.)

Have any of you ever tried to make a souffle with a two-year-old running rampant through your kitchen?? Just wondering. Actually, a friend and I took a "free" course on how to make souffles at our local Williams Sonoma. I say "free" because these courses are part of the store's ingenious promotion technique: tell the customer its free, promote every gadget in the store in preparation of the dish, and make sure to rave about how you can't possibly make the dish as easily without it, be sure to throw in a few "it's that simple"'s or "see how easy that is"'s for added emphasis, make yourself readily available after the demonstration for the horde of wanna-be chefs searching for these "necessities," and be sure to tell the suckers, er...I mean....customers about all future cooking lessons to be held at the store.

Needless to say, we fell hook, line, and sinker. Yes, after buying myself a proper souffle dish, a new pastry brush, and an egg separator (I know, I could just use the two shell halves like I've always done, but the separating tool was just so cute, and I just had to give it a new home in my "useless kitchen gadgets drawer." My garlic press and wire cheese slicer were getting so tired of each other, and I thought it was only fair to bring them home a new friend.)

Anyway, tonight was the night I was going to try out Julia Child's Souffle Au Fromage (i.e., Cheese Souffle.) I used Gruyere, cayenne pepper and a little nutmeg, only slightly varying from the Williams Sonoma recipe. If you are not familiar with souffle's, they are one of the most finicky recipes to try and cook. After wasting my first 5 eggs by accidently breaking the yolk of the fifth egg into my egg separator gadget thingy, I was a little distressed. You see, not even a drop of yolk the size of a pin-head can intrude in the egg whites or they will not whip to the proper consistency, if at all. At the risk of sounding too much like Julia Powell's Julie & Julia blog, I will not bore you with the minutae of the rest of the recipe. Just know that it rose above the souffle dish (as it's supposed to) only it was about 3 inches higher on one side. The cheese on top was a little brown and it tasted a little salty, but all around okay. And, I must admit, I am damn proud of myself for accomplishing such a feat while tending to my daughter, who continued to spill her milk, then her water (only after dipping her megablock's in it), and to my cat, who continued to vomit up hairballs in our dining room, and to my husband, who kept complaining about how the stupid computer won't connect to the internet,and how I was the only one that knew how to fix it, and that he must be able to log on to his company server NOW!

Well, I cleaned up the cat puke, the milk, the water, the megablocks. I fixed the computer, threw some meatballs in the crockpot (my husband hates souffle), and baked a proper souffle au fromage for myself and my daughter (who just preferred to call them scrabbled eggs). I sure hope you people in Guam are enjoying your relaxing Sunday afternoon!

Can I Interest You in a Fake Tooth with Your Whopper

So, you may have been wondering where I've been lately and why I haven't posted but once this week. I was actually employing a marketing technique known as deprivation research. Like when Burger King got rid of the whopper from it's menu for a while. The end result: outrage and a record boost in whopper sandwiches. I was hoping for a small vigil of blog supporters myself, as well as an increase in readership, but all I ended up with was the usual comment from my next-door neighbor (thanks Nate!) and an email from Google stating they were revoking my advertising contract due to too many invalid "clicks." Not exactly the response I was hoping for.

Okay, seriously, I made a brief and unexpected trip to South Florida to visit the BEST dentists in the State (Southport Dental in Port St. Lucie)! I had a tooth emergency. And while a missing tooth here and there usually would go quite unnoticed here in Jacksonville, being originally from West Palm Beach I could not possibly wait until my next scheduled trip down there to have it replaced.

So to make it up to you, I will be writing on a weekend. Yes, a few more Fox Fixes for your leisurely Sunday afternoon. Enjoy!

Signs of Spring

So my azaleas are in full bloom, its averaging about 72 degrees each day, I have a flock of goldfinches making daily visits to my bird feeder, my nose is running like a open fire hydrant left unattended, and about 10 family members, friends and acquaintances of mine are set to give birth any minute now.....ahhhhhh....it must be Spring! The only things missing this year are the two feral cats that used to hump each other daily on the back porch of the foreclosed house next door. The female, cross-eyed from dining on too many poisonous toads I suspect, had a litter of kittens at one point. They nursed from her under our oak tree in our backyard for about a week. Then most likely became dinner for our resident owl, since I never saw them again after that point. I don't like to think about that, so I just imagine that they were lovingly adopted by a wonderful family a block over. I actually attempted to rescue them, but they were so frightened of people that I was eventually left with a big bowl of rotting canned wild Alaskan salmon and anchovies in the garden beneath our bedroom window (my husband was real pleased with this), and about 20 cans of the stuff leftover in our pantry. I didn't know what to do with all the leftovers, since I figured even the starving would turn their nose up at it. But, luckily, I handed them off to my father, lover of canned-fish sandwiches, and none the wiser as to their original purpose.

I had even borrowed an armadillo trap from our neighbors (complete with old bait leftover from its last capture). But this year, we have new neighbors in this once designated feline whorehouse, and unbeknownst to them, the deed was done right there in the spot where they now enjoy their morning cup of hot joe in their lovely white wicker club chairs. Yes, I will miss those days when I curiously watched those two flea-infested shorthairs go at it from our family room window, as my husband would sneak up behind me singing "bow-chick-a-wow-wow," or warbling in his best, deep-voiced Marvin Gaye impersonation "Come on, let's get it oooooon." Hoping this was only to be funny and not an attempt at foreplay, I would just turn around, giggle, grasp my head as if comforting a headache, and quickly look for something else in which to be engrossed with.

You see, like poor ol' crosseyes, I too tend to find myself knocked-up each spring. It's so bad, that my husband and I would be in an argument over something, and not intimate for a few weeks, and somehow the following month....boom....I've got a bun in the oven! Fertile Myrtle, that's me. But this Spring, I am determined, I will NOT get pregnant. I will make it to my 30th birthday, this July, a party of one, a size two, and with a chilled margarita in hand, make that three! I will not succumb to Spring's feminine wiles, her procreating urges, her bad joke on her twin sister, Summer. "HA HA," she cackles, "take THAT! See how good she'll look in her new Michael Kors swimsuit now!"

Oh, no! Not this time, Spring! Fall? Maybe. Winter? Even better.

Yes, winter is a lovely time to be pregnant. The bulky clothes, the cold weather to aid in battling the night-sweats, the excuse for eating all that holiday party food.

But I'm getting way ahead of myself. I just have to make it to July. You hear that, Spring?? July.

Good Cop, Bad Cop

I'm back! And just so you know, my daughter is finally on the mend. Now if I could just get her to realize that a diet of sugar-free ice pops and all-day Disney-movie-a-thons are not going to continue to be the norm around here. She has also figured out that the pitiful whining she used while she was sick was a great weapon for getting whatever she wanted. And now she believes that if asking politely for another "icee pop" doesn't succeed, she can resort to this more unscrupulous tactic. I, however, am insurmountable when it comes to this little ploy. My husband, on the other hand, is a gutless wonder. She's got him wrapped around her cute little finger and she knows it. When it comes to asking for one of her favorite frozen treats, she sometimes tries to circumvent me entirely. But usually, she works the room like a sleazy politician. Glaring up at you innocently, while batting her big brown eyes, and whispering "more icee pops, momma? Peeeeeease."


"No, honey, no more ice pops right now, we're about to eat."


"Daaaa-deee! Daaaa-dee! More icee pops! Peeeeease. Peeeeease, da-dee, one more icee pop! More, more, more, more!"

He glances over at me, and is returned a harsh stare. "You can have an ice pop, okay, honey, darling, sweetypea, angel, cupcake, princess."

I roll my eyes and return to whatever it was I was doing....the bad cop....once again.

So there you have it....a good cop, a bad cop and a sleazy politician...kinda sounds like the beginning of a vulgar joke, or the cast of a Quintin Tarantino movie, perhaps.

New and Improved

Okay, so I might have jumped on this whole blogging thing half a decade late, but I have never been known to be one on the cutting edge of technology. I just got an iPod last year, which still only hold music files, no movies, TV shows, webcasts or pictures. And, up until a few months ago, it used to take me 20 minutes just to text "Happy Birthday" to a friend on my cell phone. But I do admit I have become quite addicted to this idea of journaling my random thoughts (and favorite recipes) to a somewhat-anonymous audience. And I have been researching ways to better serve you, the reader, with better content, easier access and more relevant ads.

To start, you can now enter your email address and subscribe to "The Fox Chronicles." Every time I publish a new post it will automatically be emailed to you. You also can email each blog post to someone you might think would enjoy it, make fun of it, whatever. And this is true for all of my other blogs as well (www.projectpennywise.com and http://whatsinyourrefrig.blogspot.com)

I am constantly exploring new ways in which to improve these sites, and I will keep you posted whenever I add something new. So, I thank you all for continuing to come back. Remember to put me in your "favorites" and subscribe so that you do not miss a post!

Sick Day

So, I've decided to take a sick day today. No, not because I am sick, but because my daughter has come down with a fever and runny nose something fierce! She hasn't slept at night or during the day, hence I have barely slept either....so....lucky readers....you get yet another one of my favorite recipes, Pork Pot Stickers:

Ingredients:
8oz lean ground pork
1/3 cup chopped scallions (approx. 2)
1 tbsp soy sauce (low sodium)
1 tsp sesame oil
1 1/2 cups packaged cabbage-and-carrot coleslaw
3 tbsp water
1/2 tsp cornstarch
30 wonton skins
1 tbsp peanut oil
1 cup water
Store-bought Plum Sauce for dipping

Directions:
1. Heat a large nonstick skillet over med-high heat. Coat pan with cooking spray. Add pork, cook 6 minutes or until done, stirring to crumble. Add scallions, soy sauce, and sesame oil; cook 30 seconds. Stir in coleslaw, and cook 30 seconds or until cabbage wilts, stirring frequently.
2. Combine 3 tbsps water and the cornstarch in a small bowl. Add cornstarch mixture to pork mixture; cook 1 minute, stirring constantly. Remove from heat; cool to room temperature.
3. Working with 1 wonton skin at a time (cover others with wet cloth), spoon 1 scant tbsp pork mixture into center of each skin. Moisten edges of skin with water. Fold in half, pinching edges together to seal. Place on a baking sheet in a single layer (cover loosely with a towel to prevent drying). *
4. Heat peanut oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. Arrange pot stickers in pan in a single layer (tips pointed up); cook 2 minutes or until browned on bottom. Add 1 cup water to pan; cover and cook 5 minutes. Uncover and cook until liquid evaporates, about 2 minutes. Serve immediately.

*At this point the pot stickers may be covered with plastic wrap and frozen. Once frozen, remove from baking sheet and place in plastic freezer bags (up to 3 months). To thaw, arrange pot stickers in single layer on baking sheet, cover with plastic wrap and place in refrigerator overnight.

This recipe is from Cooking Light magazine 2 years ago. It is an awesome appetizer or meal for 2 to 3 people. Do not forget the plum sauce...it makes this meal!!!

I'm Going Jogging...

I believe it's jogging. Or yogging, it might be a soft "j." I'm not sure, but apparently you just run for an extended period of time. It's supposed to be wild.
~Ron Burgundy, Anchorman

I love running. I never was a runner before college, but ever since then, I've made it a point to run as often as I can. I even went running on my honeymoon in Kauai on the edge of 20-foot ocean cliffs, with a purplish-pink sun rising in front of me and the Pacific spraying my face with every crashing wave. It was amazing! I've been running in Philly, Miami, Atlanta, and Dallas. I once went running on the boardwalk through Venice Beach, California in the early morning, right through the filming of a Hillary Duff music video (before she became so famous), blaring the Beach Boys' "Help Me Rhonda" so loud, that I had only realized what I'd done when people started raising their hands in the air as if to say "what the hell?" Oops! I just thought it was a bunch of people hanging around outside a henna tatoo place. But running is a great way to go sightseeing. They even have a running tour of New York City...I definitely have to do that some day.

When I run, I get in this kind of zone, as most other runners do. I forget what is going on around me. I can do just about anything while on a run. Sometimes I plan out the rest of my workout while listening to my iPod or formulate my grocery list. I daydream about about my dream home, dream car, or dream career, sometimes I ponder the theory of relativity, run through a few mathematical proofs, or knit...just whatever I'm in the mood for and whatever keeps my mind off the mileage.

The farthest I have ever run was 12 miles, not that far for a seasoned runner I guess. But I just can never seem to get past that mark. And I swear, every year I plan on running a marathon, but never am I able to stick to the training schedule. Actually, I have never participated in ANY sort of organized race. I can come up with a million excuses when I want to: I can't find the time, its too hot in the summer I'll get heat stroke, I'm pregnant (not presently, but when I was pregnant it was a wonderful excuse for everything). But in reality, marathons just scare me. I don't know if its trying to cram in long runs on the weekends, or planning around vacations, or the fear that I will crap in my running shorts in front of thousands of race spectators! You've heard that before, right? It's crazy, I mean, they're crazy! These marathoners are so dedicated to their finishing time that they would all together forgo the use of a port-a-potty for their own pants. Some say runners can't control it, and that's what scares me the most. If any of you have run a marathon before, have you actually seen this happen? Just curious.

Well...huh......what can I say to follow that one. Not much I guess. Just hope you all aren't reading this one during your lunch hour.

A Weekend Away

This past weekend, my husband and I decided to take a little vacation. We dropped our daughter off with her grandparents and headed an hour and a half west to Gainesville, Florida. This was actually supposed to be our three year anniversary trip, but with our actual anniversary falling so close to the holidays, it was easier to wait until now to go. Our original destination was going to be Savannah, however, with the housing slump and my husband being in the residential construction biz, we opted for Gainesville, where his parents still own his college apartment (i.e., a free place to stay.) Luckily, the place has had an overhaul since its use as a college bachelor pad. A description of its previous condition would require a completely new post altogether, so I will not even attempt to go there. (However, if you were at my wedding, you were privy to a lovely sampling by my now brother-in-law during his best man speech.)

Anyway, the drive west is always fun around 5:30 in the afternoon. And as we neared the University of Florida, and while we were driving along the main road through downtown Gainesville, a group of about 100 homeless people on bicycles, or I don't know, maybe they were fine arts majors, were headed east toward a less desirable part of town. Out of nowhere, my husband turns to me and says, "do you think they are all headed to the woods for a group orgy?" My first thought was, whoa, what kind of weirdo did I marry? He has definitely seen way too many Stanley Kubrik films, but what I actually said was, "You know, hun? That's exactly what I was thinking when I saw 100 bicyclists headed toward Waldo, FL: they must be going to the woods for group sex!! Amazing how we are always on the same page! See, we are soulmates. I love you!"

So, my husband and I, if you haven't already guessed, both graduated from the University of Florida. And it never fails, each time we decide to visit our old haunts, the question always arises (usually from me) as to whether other people around us (usually students or waitstaff) think we are just another pair of college kids. Or do they view us as the pathetic old couple trying to relive their younger years by invading their hip nightspots. And it was only after we made the decisions to skip the 65 minute wait at Outback (average patron age: 20) at 9pm for an immediate table at Stonewood Grill (average patron age: 40), and opted for a mid-day coffee and bagel break at the nearly-dead Atlanta Bread Company (average patron age:35) instead of the so-packed-you-can't-even-find-a-parking-spot-on-the-grass Starbucks (average patron age: 19) that we realized which couple we ultimately were.

On Saturday night, we dined at the Melting Pot, where we found ourselves complaining about the service, the lack of a full bar, and the limited per-glass wine options. Yep, we reminded ourselves of our parents....scary. And, outside a Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest, who knew it was humanly possible to consume 5000 calories in just one meal? My husband nicknamed the place "The Gluttony Pot," which didn't rhyme, but was far more fitting than, say, "The Svelting Pot." I had mistakenly worn my "skinny jeans" (in an unsuccessful attempt to appear more college-aged) which I finally fit in for the first time since October, but after that night of overindulgence, will probably not fit in again until after a few more months of daily intense cardio training. I hurriedly loosened the top button of my jeans as soon as we got to the car. Thinking that it would be in poor taste to actually do so in the restaurant, I prayed that the thing wouldn't burst from its delicate stitching like a missile and kill an unsuspecting patron, or less worse, permanently imprint the word "BEBE" on our poor waitress, and even less worse, land in someone else's fondue pot, after being dunked in poppyseed batter, and ending up choking the poor sap who had mistakened it for a deep-fried, green-goddess-sauce-filled, mushroom cap!

But other than that, I enjoyed our brief brush with irresponsibility, as I slept until 10 each morning and took pleasure in having more than just one or two alcoholic beverages in the evening. We didn't make our bed, or hang up clothes, or put our dishes away in the dishwasher, or wipe down the bathroom counters. We left toothpaste spittle in the sink, and food crumbs on the coffee table, too. Yes, after a weekend in Gainesville, I truly knew what it was like to be my husband.