Better off at Marisa's

Yes, folks, it was Bookclub last night...
Didn't you feel the joy and smell the cooking in the air?

Our selection for the month was "Better Off: Flipping the Switch on Technology" by Eric Brenoe and as you may have surmised from the title, it was about a family who decided to live without modern technologies for a period of time, with the help of some good neighbors they called Minimites (Menonnites).  Marisa had the great idea of building the dinner around homemade-homemade foods...her instructions were: nothing from a can or a box.  (Well there goes the wine-in-a-box idea...)

It was brilliant.
Here's our menu:

Pickles wrapped in summer sausage from Ryans
Pumpkin soup so good that I could've just put my face in the pot and drank it down.  It had lime juice, cilantro, curry(?)...oh, my goodness it was wonderful!
Baked chicken, golden crusty skin, flavored perfectly, and juicy.
Homemade noodles with some sort of (and I'm drooling a bit, here...) Italian flavored chop sauce; tomatoes, basil, olive oil, olives. And the noodles were cooked on premises.  They were THAT fresh.
Homemade dinner rolls...that complimented the much glorified soup.  Soft, white with perfect browned tops...mercy!
Pecan and streusel caramel apple pie, with homemade whipped cream.
Wine, of course, with one bottle having a rather risque label.  And designer soda pop, from Whitefish!

Are you still with me? Or did you run off to get a little snack?
Did you notice that perhaps we have the best cooks in a three county area?
That's right, folks, they're smart AND have culinary prowess.

 Everett....honestly, he's the most adorable child and I can't stop kissing him.

I'm partial, perhaps, because he's family, but still...

(Those are teeny-tiny Carhardtts he has on!)

Cutting up the chicken...you can't imagine how good the house smelled with those just out of the oven.
See? They were perfect.

I do believe this is the moment Clara revealed her bottles of wine....

I tried to make this bigger so you could read the label...

It's Buck Naked wine, and it has a little stick man on it!

Clara CLAIMS that her brother-in-law bought it, but I'm not sure I'm buying that...

There's more to these pretty Dutch women than meets the eye...

 The pasta, before it hit the water.  It was G-O-O-O-O-D!

(Spell check THAT!)

 Pies....

Annie and the little man...

I'm not sure.  Either Thelma was telling Traci about a football game or Traci just told her it was a stick-up and to hand over all the rolls.  Either choice is plausible, really....

This isn't a very good picture, because Celestia had to go back for the roll, so you can't see that, and also because I was rushing to get in line before all the food was gone...because there was a real danger of that happening, I'm sure...

 Solving world issues over pie.

Don't you think there would be more peace in the world if there was more pie?

*sigh*

Heather didn't make it to bookclub this month and we missed her a lot, but I'm sure she'll make it to Traci's next month, when we discuss the book...

(I'll have to get back to you with the title!)

(Drats.)

Going home

Yesterday, Angus and I spent the day at Dad's. Karen and I are working on a Cookie Day book (that's another story) and wanted to get a good start.  And Dad wanted me to take some pictures so he and Karen could get their Christmas cards. 

Most of the people who read the Chronicles know that there are no trees in the Cohagen area.  Well, there ARE trees, but they're all planted in rows, for the most part. It's truly prairie and beautiful in its own way.  What a lot of you don't know is that I grew up on a creek with big, old, old cottonwood trees. 

Summer nights, with the windows open, I fell asleep to the swooshy sounds of leaves in the breeze.  As kids, we played for hours amongst the fallen trees, the shadows of the creek bottom, and had countless caches of food and "supplies" we'd purloined from the store room in the basement. (Wonder if I could find some, still...) 

We had a wonderful treehouse...big, with a rope swing and boards nailed up for stairs and seats and everything.  It had been Dad and Rosie's when they were kids, so that made it even more special to us. It had little niches to sit in and read and really great branches to hang off of.  It was a magnificent fort...one could really pelt the enemy from its ancient turrets, with sticks and apple cores. 

You can't imagine how homesick I get for trees.  

Yesterday, when we popped over the hill to the ranch, I almost cried.  Well, I did have a couple tears, actually.  It was so beautiful, and I was 9 years old again. 

Here's where I grew up.  This is the setting of my childhood, the fabric of my memories....it hasn't changed much at all, really.  And here's my Dad, the way I'll always see him...

I'm not going to reveal the Christmas card pictures, but I am going to show you around a little...

Dad and Angus next to the new flagpole....isn't that flag beautiful?

I included this picture so you could see the country, all the buttes and hills beyond the house.

 The old red truck....you know how I love old trucks.  Looks exactly as it did when I was a kid. Probably runs the same, too.

The paddock that used to be white.  When we were kids, we got to paint on it every summer.  We didn't make much progress and really thought we were being abused by having to do it.  (Now that I'm a parent, I can only imagine how painful it must've been to watch us s-l-o-w-l-y pretending to paint the fence.)

I had a lot of empathy for Tom Sawyer.  And my brother and sister never fell for the "privilege of painting" trick, because they knew the story, too.

 This view is looking down from up by the house.  There's the shop, with the old John Deere in front, and Grandma's house sits behind those trees to the left.  I still sort of expect to see Gramps under the tree in his red down coat and felt cowboy hat, reading political papers. Only he'd be in the sun, because he was always cold.

 This is a crazy sort of tank that stored oats for the horses.  I remember scooping oats out of that little metal tube, into a bucket.  It was handy to be able to walk by and grab a handful, to lure my horse so I could catch him...

 And speaking of horses, here's Little Joe.  He's the grandkid horse that Grammy Karen graciously shares.

 Meet Tiggy Winkles, the kitty that came from our house.  She's such a beauty!  And a mousing machine.  She came strolling out after her barn patrol to greet us.

 He's in trouble.  When we were trying to take pictures, all he wanted to do was get to the barn....SO, when he finally did get to the barn, he got tied to the trailer for a few hours to think about it.  The equine equivilant of being sent to your room. Dad said maybe he won't think the barn is such a great place after this little session.  I think he's probably just as stubborn as Dad, and probably didn't think that at all... 

 The old sheep shed that's used for storage, and the loading chute.  See all the trees?

 Barry's basketball hoop on the grainary...

 You can't see it, but the old treehouse is down there.  And the creek will be filled with sweet smelling gold cottonwood leaves in about a week....I'd like to go back and swoosh through them.

 Cowboy PopPops and Grammy Karen, with their only grandson, walking back to the house to get a peanut butter cookie or three.

Sometimes, you CAN go home again.

 

My friend Nicole has been surrepticiously reading the Chronicles for quite a while, bless her heart, and also happens to be in possesion of the most amazing pie recipe that she shared with me after accolades on FaceBook.  She knew I was going to post it, but she did not know that she was the guest food writer today!  I simply couldn't edit it....I love her voice and knew you would, too. I DID ask permission to get a photo and she graciously consented to that...I chose the princess picture! (Not really, but she was ready for a wedding and really did LOOK like a princess...)

Mary,


I went through the rec. and tried to give you the best I could. I am not so great at following the measurements. I love to cook so I add more if I like it and sometimes skip it if I don't. This is the way I am. I wish you the best and hope to get together with you one day for a mean cup of coffee and so glourious pie.




CARAMEL APPLE NUT PIE
1 (9 inch) double pie crust, your favorite (or homemade, if time)

3/4 c. packed light brown sugar (Used extra maybe 1 cup)

3 tbsp. flour (dusted a bit in the bottom of my crust so it would not get to soggy)

1/4 c. HEAVY cream

1 c. chopped PECANS (once again plus extra)

4-5 apples, about 6 c. (filled it up like mile high apple pie, I like using lots of apples (8)? so it is very full and runs over in my oven)lol

3 tbsp. cold butter (plus some extra)lol

even though the rec. did not call for Cinn. I added it anyways, maybe a tsp. Just add to your taste I like it so well you know plenty of extra.



In small bowl mix brown sugar, flour and whipping cream. Stir in nuts.

Peel and slice Granny Smith apples are the best but means they are so expensive I used the ones on special I think they were braun?. Add sugar and cream mixture to apples. Will be thick, but stir to coat apples.



Put in unbaked pie shell. Cut slices of cold butter on top. Put top pie shell on. Cut designs for air. Brush with cream. Sprinkle with sugar. Bake at 400 degrees for about 40-45 minutes.



Note: Before you print this you may want to delete all the comments. I like to put all my feelings in so not to forget how I did it last time. Like it matters lol, I may change it up the next time I try it. Good luck.
 
After about 4 back and forth messages, we had modified the recipe to where you might not recognize it!  There were ideas of streusel instead of the top crust made with butter brickle bits added, or a drizzle of homemade caramel sauce when serving, or if you are really adventurous, putting those ingredients on a serving platter and inverting the pie on top of them! (Thanks Alice...that was brilliant.) If you didn't have pie love before, you will after this...
 
I have to tell you...
I've had the most incredble emails and messages from the Pie Love post!  It's the most fun I've had with a post in a long time...keep the notes coming! You, too, might be featured as a guest food writer on the Chronicles.  (It comes with very little notoriety, no monetary gains or any other benefits...)
 

Harvest Dinner

Every year, the Catholic church in Jordan has a harvest dinner on opening day of antelope season, which USED to always be on Sunday but in a mean trick of bureaucracy turned out to be Saturday this year.  They still had the supper on Sunday, and I'm glad they stuck to their guns.  Church harvest dinners SHOULD be on Sunday evenings!

Anyway...
It's really something to look forward to, if you like food, neighbors or have pie love.  Since I fit into all those categories (but not my jeans, anymore, after attending) I load up whomever will go and we partake.  Usually, it's just Maggie and me.  This year, however, the men joined us! 

It's held at the VFW hall, the only building with a kitchen that will accomodate very large crowds.  Long tables set up and festively decorated with autumn themed things...this year, to our great delight, they sprinkled candy corn on the tables! (As if there wasn't enough food.) 

We paid our paltry sum of eight dollars for grown-ups and kids for free and got in line. 

We had to walk past the pie tables to get to the real food. 

That's right, I said tables...plural.  They put two long tables together and they are both just covered in plates of pie.  I almost didn't make it past.  I asked one of the ladies if it would be possible to completely forgo the rest of the meal and just have three pieces of pie instead, and she didn't seem to think that would be a problem. Bless her heart! But that would be a bad example for the kids, so I kept moving....

....toward the tables groaning under big white roasters of roast beef and lamb, homemade mashed potatos and (I completely understand this) gravy from a mix, cheesy green beans, baked squash, no less than 12 different salads, relish tray, homemade rolls and real butter....and a drink, if you could manage.

This is before you have pie.

Then you find a spot at one of the decorated tables, near friends if you can, which is not hard, and start the job of eating. 

It's a happy job, and all around you, you hear the clink of silverware and a cheerful hum of conversation, occasionally the sound of little kids' voices as they escape the table and find someone to play with on the bandstand.

This year, we found my Dad and Karen and had a visit with them.  Or they visited with us, while we ate.  They had been through the line a bit earlier, so they were full...Dad was polishing off a piece of pecan pie when we sat down. 

I won't go on and on about the pie anymore....except to say that I met a caramel apple pie, there, and I may never fall in love with another.  I know who made it, and if she'll share the recipe, I'll do a special post with it. 

What a great way to spend a Sunday evening!  Especially if you're the cook. 
I have no idea if there are harvest dinners in your community, but if there are, you should try it sometime.
The Lutheran ladies are gearing up for theirs, in Jordan, in a couple weeks...

I have to go run, now. 
Even my fingers feel fat, this morning.

Pie Love

I have it bad.

It runs in the family, though. 
My little brother used to ask for a cherry pie for his birthday, instead of cake.
My dad will work for pie...literally! When he does a little job for my grandma that she appreciates, she bakes him a pie for his efforts.
My Gramps was the most amazing pie eater...he'd take forever, though, because he'd have teeny-tiny slice after teeny-tiny slice.  The rest of us would just have a regular piece and be done, but Gramps would sliver a pie to death, eventually consuming twice what the rest of us could.

If you bring up the topic of pie, in conversation, the mood immediately gets warm with memories and bright with stories.  Not all of the stories are GOOD, mind you, but nearly everyone has a pie story...either making it or consuming it.  And everyone has a favorite!

I've been reading a book called American Pie: Slices of Life (and Pie) from America's Back Roads  by Pascale Le Draoulec. (If that isn't the most French name you've ever encountered! Both her parents are French, but she was born and raised in America.)

She writes about driving through 24 of the United States, Montana included, seeking out pies with character and characters who love pies!

I think I've found MY purpose in life, by reading it....

AND, as though the book wouldn't be entertaining enough on its own, she includes recipes.

Yes. I DID hug the book.

And remembered why I buy books, instead of borrowing them from the library.

I NEED to own this book.

If you have pie love, you probably need to own this book, too.

So, predictably, after reading for two days about pies, I had to make one.

I had apples, so yesterday morning, I made an apple pie.

Now, apple pies are a commitment.  The peeling and slicing of the apples takes quite a while, especially when there's an apple bandit on the loose, who comes snitching every chance he gets.  And it's a two crust pie, of course, which means you have to get BOTH crusts right.  I don't know about you, but if I get ONE crust to the pan, in one piece, more or less, I consider it victory.  Two crusts stymy me every time.

But it turned out alright!

Do you think pie making...really, truly good pie making....can only be done by people with happy hearts?

I think a resentful, angry heart would ruin a pie.  They are labors of love, really.  As I was peeling and rolling and crimping, I thought of the people I wished I could share pie and coffee with when it was done. (Or tea, Alice with a little a!)  Andrea Boccelli was singing arias in the background and it was as close to a perfect atmosphere as could be.  And my heart was very happy.  It was the first pie that looked decent, I think, that I've ever turned out.

Then there's the crust treats.

My mom always sprinkled the leftover crust with cinnamon sugar and popped them in the oven with the pie.  They cooked MUCH faster, so while we were waiting, drooling, for the pie to be done, we had cinnamon pastry to snack on.  Pour some coffee and tear in!

Angus helped.

His dough had been handled quite a little before I got it on the cookie sheet.

 But he didn't put down the alien creature toy to do it...

 And no piece was too small...

 His finished product, which no one got to share...and for which we were grateful for small favors in not having to.

I want to bake another pie, today, because it's all cold and rainy....maybe two.  I need to work on my crusts.  But I don't think I'd better, until the apple is gone.  Which won't take long, because it's what we had for breakfast, with ice cream!

What's your favorite pie?

(One guy, in the book, said "There's only two kinds of pie I love: warm and cold.")

Do you have pie love?

Crazy Mary

It's been awhile since I've had questions for Crazy Mary! A regular reader submitted five, today, and they are...tricky.  Well, a couple are tricky.  But since the theme is crazy, you'll just have to work with me.

In no particular order (which will drive the questioner nuts and that's the point):

1. What is your favorite processed meat product?  It's very specific.  Polish dogs from Ryans Grocery and Processing in Jordan.  Ryans has won awards for their meats and these are one of the awarded meats, actually.  They're more beef (or wild game) than fat, incredible blend of spices and when you crisp them on the grill, you'll never want another crummy hotdog in your life. They make lunch meat, too...same goodness, but polish dogs win my vote.

2. What is your strangest personal habit?  Talk about a stumper! I'd have to say (and this is completely gross and dumb) that when I blow my nose, I look at the tissue.  Why? I don't know.  There really aren't any surprises waiting for me!  The exception being when I worked at the arena...you'd just never know, there....(SORRY!)

3. Would you rather completely give up alcohol or coffee?  This is a non-question.  Alcohol, absolutely would be the one to go.  I tried giving up coffee when I was pregnant with Maggie, because I was trying to be perfect, and ended up with such migraines that the doctor made me go back to drinking it again.  I've had coffee since I was quite young; it runs through my veins, thanks to my mom's family.  

4. What movie has made the most impact on your life?  This was the HARDEST question!  At first, I ran through my head, trying to think of all the important, poignant, heavy movies I've seen and how they changed me....got nothin'.  Then I thought about all the classics I love and whether they made me more classic....got nothin'.  Chevy Chase? Nothin'.  Indiana Jones? Nothin'.  

I was starting to wonder if a movie had ever really impacted my life!  But then I remembered A Snoodle's Tale.  Now that one really got me.   It's a VeggieTale, written in the manner of Dr. Suess, and it explores the notion of using the gifts God gave you to make the world around you better.  It also shows that those who ridicule you, may just be ignorant of what God's gifts are. That it only really matters that God loves you enough to entrust you with these gifts, that He wants you to use them to the best of your ability and that He loves and enjoys how you share them. 

*sniff*  

5. If someone gave you an all-expenses paid trip to anywhere in the world, where would you go and who would you take with you?  Ah, yes.  The trip question.  No matter how I answer this, I'm going to be in trouble with somebody.  I did ask if there were restrictions, such as how many people I get to take, and there were none.   And since I can't possibly take everyone I love or want to meet and spend time with or all that, I picked one.

Kellie Yost, come on down.  You're the next contestant on The Price is Right!  (Being a blank check, that's for darn sure...)

And this is something I thought long and hard about, but if it's all expense paid, I want to go to Rwanda and build a school...a boarding school, like my friend Michelle's aunt funded.  I read Michelle's accounts, daily, about her visit to Rwanda, about the kids and the need for education, and their hunger to learn.  France would be fun, of course.  St. John is still on my list. Michigan will be there for a while.  But if I get one shot, just ONE; and I have the chance to make a lasting impact on lots of lives, that's what I want to do and where I want to go.  There were no restrictions, and the question said "trip" not "vacation"....big difference!

I know Kellie would pour her heart into the project, and she's just a lot of fun to travel with.  I know, because we did for the arena, and there's no one I'd rather sleep in a pickup in Wyoming with after 12 hours of turning out steers...I can only imagine the stories we'd have from Rwanda! 

And there you have it....

If you have any questions for Crazy Mary, email me and I'll answer them on Wednesday, next week.  (This is obviously not in-depth, up to the minute stuff....) 

It's gold...

There's an old Girl Scout song that runs through my head, sometimes. 

"Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver and the other is gold."

Last night, we had a house full of gold!

Our friends, Eric and Camie Fitgerald came for pizza night with their little girls, Sloan and Jade. 

We've been friends for just ever, Wayland and I having gone to high school with Eric in Jordan and hanging out in the years following.  The crazy thing about the friendship with Eric is that Wayland and Eric were friends, and Eric and I were friends, but Wayland and I were not friends.  Go figure. 

 We finally got it all together and there was Camie in the mix.  Camie and I were fast friends, because she was from the town of Dutton, Montana AND she was just plain cool, which I aspire to be someday.  She's cool in an arts-y, funny sort of way and we almost always end up laughing like idiots while our husbands roll their eyes.  Everyone should have friends like that, don't you think?

Eric and Wayland are best friends.  You could not tell by their communication.  Here's how it goes:

Me:  Hey, when was the last time you called Eric?
W.: 2008, maybe.
Me: I think he has another kid, now.  Maybe you should give him a call...
W.: Nah.  One kid, two kids....whatever.  He's good or we'd have heard something in Walmart.
Me: (Dialing the phone) You know they're in Worland, now...not Billings.
W.: Wyoming?
Me: (Handing the phone to him) NO! Worland, Florida! Say hello.
W.: He-e-e-e-e-y, Eric...how's it going?

They then proceed to talk about guns, work, guns, kids, guns and, well, guns.  Takes them 37 minutes to catch up on 2 years and then they're done for another two years.

Anyway, pizza was the theme of the evening; bbq chicken, pepperoni and mushroom, and cheese (for the kids.  And for dessert, fruit pizza!  Talked and talked and rescued kittens from enthusiastic clutches, looked for kids in the dark, took pictures...

Hanging out, watching a Barbie surfing movie.  Angus was traumatized by all the chicks and the fact that they wanted to play with his cars and trucks, not just dolls like chicks are SUPPOSED to.  I believe he was in his room counting "bad guys" at this time, making sure none were pocketed or dressed up in ruffles....

 Sloan, showing us her surfing moves...

 Can you see the kitten being held captive? Jade ADORED that kitten and her preferred method of transport was packing the kitten by the neck.  She didn't squeeze or anything, and we made sure the kitten was completely fine, but everytime we turned around, there she was, headed off down the hall with this little thing...

 Another very exciting evening at the Pluhar house....we should've broken out the Scrabble and really blown them away with the fun, but we were all too full.  (Note the tray of wine glasses behind Camie on the bookcase.  That will come into play later in the post...)

 Eric, very seriously entering all our information: date of birth, phone numbers, wedding date, size of clothes, mother's middle name, zodiac signs, childhood pets....not really, but he does have quite a lot, now.  They don't have a computer at home and use this little smart phone for all their communications and addresses!

 At one point, I asked Wayland to take a picture of Camie and I, since we don't have ANY and I wanted to commemorate that we actually were in the same place at the same time and still friends. We, being women and all, had to get our hair perfectly situated. Camie, very controlled, shook her pretty little blonde head and all the hair fell into place. I shook my crazy head and accidentally hit a tray of wine glasses, making a HUGE clatter and causing the kids on the couch to jump up in alarm to see who was going to get the beating.
(Nothing broke and no one was injured...but now I know not to toss my hair...)
                                   

 Trying for some composure...

                                                      We couldn't stop laughing!

 Finally got it!

 Princess Sloan, after about four changes of costume....she informed us that she's going to be a southern belle for Halloween! I've no doubt she'll pull off Scarlett O'Hara with great aplomb.

Plans are being made to visit Worland for a long weekend, sometime before two years rolls by.  It was mentioned over supper that Camie has an early curfew of 1:30 a.m. on weekends...did you hear that, Pluhar?....and we are making plans....

In which the Farmer's Wife runs away and turns 39....REALLY!

Last week was my birthday and in true Chronicles fashion, the story is fashionably late....

Sometime in July, my friend (and Maggie's teacher) Celestia and I decided we'd go to Lewistown for my birthday.  We've been talking about it for a couple years, but never seem to get organized! We just wanted to go walk around downtown, eat someplace different, stay in a motel and visit until midnight...

And that's JUST what we did, only it turned out better than we'd imagined!

I got to town about 2:30, right as Celestia's training finished, and we made fast tracks to the Calvert, where her husband had gotten us a room.  The Calvert is an old hotel that has been completely refurbished...it's elegant and has managed somehow to retain the best qualities of the past, while integrating modern conveniences.  I wish I had gotten more of the history on it! I did find an old menu that they'd framed and in it's heyday, you could get two eggs, toast and coffee for 25 cents.  The original phone booth was there...turns out there are no phones in the rooms, which I didn't miss at all....but you can use the booth downstairs if you simply MUST.  

If you go to http://www.thecalverthotel.com/ you can see a couple more pictures. 

It's SO classy!

After prowling around the hotel, ooooing and aaahhhing, we went downtown to check out the shops. 

Every little town has it's own charm and for some reason, Lewistown was particularly dear this weekend.  It had snowed and was STILL snowing, in fact, so no one was out and every store we went into had people who were just happy to see a customer! 

One storefront had a display of pink antiques....including a pink rotary desk phone that I nearly had to have! It was the most wonderful, awful, girly thing I've seen in a long time.  And we stopped in at a little market that had a wild selection of wines....Mad Housewife being my favorite!  We bought...enough to warrant a box.  Some were for gifts.  Really!  Who can resist a bottle with a 1950's housewife on it?

Then (and this is my very favorite part of the trip, I think) we went to a little sandwich shop called Lola's.  I absolutely adore this place....they make incredible sandwiches and wraps from crepes, AND they have something like 24 different flavors of gelato.  Go ahead.  Stop for a moment in reverence....

The waitress told us it was live music that night, a little group of musicians who play on the -teenth Friday of every month.  Well, we were IN, so we sat there and talked for just ever, about life and food, looking forward to the music.

I'm so glad we stayed!  The staff put candles on all the tables and the band set up in the loft, over the kitchen.  Celestia and I were sitting in the front window, next to the door and at one point I saw a band member struggling with multiple instruments and the door, so I jumped up and opened it for him. (You would too, right? It's the right thing to do.)  Anyway, he was overcome with gratitude (more than necessary) and bought us both gelatos.  Drummers are good people. 

The band can't decide on a name, so that night they were going with The Illuminators. (There was one hold-out in the gang, so they couldn't OFFICIALLY go by that name.)  They were amazing.  Two guitars, a bass,  a harmonica and of course, the drums....they played bluegrass, old country, new country, jazz, and even an Amy Winehouse, which just about knocked me off my stool! 

The crowd was intriguing....I saw old cowboys, young farm couples, older women, a couple kids, and a table that apparently make this their night out, because they brought wine and everything! The place was packed.  And the waiters and waitresses were in a great mood, sashaying around, refilling coffee and laughing with the patrons.  It was great dancing music, but no one got up to my dismay. 

After the music, we went back to the Calvert and opened a bottle of Mad Housewife Merlot....and visited in our jammies until at least midnight!

The next morning I went for a run on a real live running trail, and after coffee, we went to the Empire Cafe.  The Empire is a little cafe that you find only in small towns, where everyone has their own table, just like one might have a pew in church.  When you walk in the door, the smell of hashbrowns, bacon, greasy eggs and coffee wraps around you like a hug. 

It must be THE place for breakfast, because at 9:30, there were 4 waitresses RUNNING and only two tables open.  And they hadn't been bussed because the waitresses were so busy.  We picked one and sat down, grabbing a menu conveniently placed behind the ketchup bottle. 

I found the Garbage Omelet...everything they could think of to put in it....with hashbrowns and sourdough toast. 

I could tell it was going to be good.

It was GREAT.  And the hashbrowns were the perfect combination of crisp and soft...mmmmmm! 

While we were eating, I looked around and had to smile.  One lady hugged our waitress as she left, another told the family she'd had breakfast with, "See you in church, tomorrow!" and the old guy sitting at the table next to us didn't even have to order....they just brought it. 

I love small town cafes, don't you?  I could've sat there all day, with a cup of coffee, taking notes on all the characters and maybe losing a couple games of cribbage.

At last, it was time to drive home.  It had been such a great time with my friend; relaxed and fun, interesting and yet, homey.

If you get to Lewistown, Montana on the teenth Friday of the month, I hope you make it to Lola's to hear the music and try the pumpkin cheesecake gelato with their exceptional coffee....tell the band "hi" for me.  And breakfast at the Empire Cafe is not to be missed.  If you don't stay at the Calvert, at least stop in and visit with the owners who will happily take you on a guided tour.  (There's a gorgeous bar that they're working on, downstairs...they'll show you!)

Squeezers

For the very young and the men, let me tell you what these are:

Eyelash squeezers.

That's right.  That's what they do.  Women (of questionable intelligence) insert their eyelashes into one of these instruments, push the little handles together and it squeezes their eyelashes until they're curled up alluringly.

My mom had some and I nearly pulled my eyelashes out when I was 10 years old, having forgotten to "Open, then remove curler from eye".  That's an important step.  Really, THE most important step.

I'd forgotten all about this dandy little beauty enhancement tool until I was at my sister's house reading through her health and beauty magazines one afternoon. The little blurb beside the photo showed a before and after and spoke glowingly of its powers to make one look like Marilyn Monroe.  I could imagine my eyelashes fluttering like Bambi's, creating a breeze and magically drawing attention from the crows feet located directly beside them. 

I NEEDED an eyelash squeezer.

I had completely forgotten why I'd avoided them for 25 years.

Next time I was at Walmart, I hunted until I found some and quickly purchased them, along with some youthful blush. (My friend Elise happened upon me, agonizing in the beauty product aisle and graciously didn't direct me to the spackle three rows down.  I love that girl.)

When I got them home, I was excited to try them.  Surely I'd gained coordination and some common sense in the span of a quarter of a century.  One would think....

Alas....

I could get them to my eye.  Once I got my eyelashes to lay in the slot....I was so excited I moved and boop! out they came.  Finally after about 4 tries, I got it all situated and squeezed.

OUCH!!!

Little tip for you:  It doesn't curl eyelids.  Only eyelashes. 

And in my hurry to get the squeezer off my eyelid, I forgot to let go, releasing the eyelashes/lid.

(I will omit the words I prefaced OUCH!!!! with.  This is a family blog.)

And after that, you'd think I'd throw them away, wouldn't you?

No.

I'm a lot of things, but I'm no quitter where stupid is concerned.

I've been using them daily for a couple weeks now.  I still have all my eyelashes and I notice no obvious difference in curl or shape.  In which case, you're probably wondering why I continue....

I'm just so darn proud I can run them without self-inflicted injury.