Ode to Dandad's Famous Yams

"I Yam what I am"

--Popeye the Sailor Man

If my daughter Kelsey made up a song and sang it on Thanksgiving, it would have to be the "Ode to Dandad's Famous Yams" song. She would sing it strong and she would sing it loud. She would sing it with much emotion to try to illustrate through vocal interpretation her unyielding passion for Dandad's Famous Yams. She would openly sing it while she mashed the boiled yams and lovingly blended in the well beaten eggs, sugar, vanilla extract, and evaporated milk. She would joyously hum the tune while mixing up the brown sugar/flour/melted butter/pecan pieces topping mixture and sprinkling it on top of the yams. She would impatiently pace back and forth, thinking this song in her head, while it baked in a 350 degree oven for 25-30 minutes. And when the oven timer beeped, she would ecstatically dance to the oven door, pull out that most incredible and delectable dish and immediately "test" it (wink, wink) to make sure it was fit for human consumption. She would be tempted to declare that it is not, but it is just not possible to make a bad batch of Dandad's Famous Yams. Oh, the joy! The rapture! The beauty that is Dandad's Famous Yams!

**DISCLAIMER**
Kelsey did not approve this message. (but she does really, really love Dandad's Famous Yams.)

Free Spirit

Free Spirit

They can't chain my Spirit! My Spirit runs free! Walls can't contain it! Laws can't restrain it! Authority has no power over it!

--Bill Watterson (author of Calvin and Hobbs)

I love these pictures and quote of my very unique daughter, Markelle. Last night she came into the living room where I was reading "Eclipse" (I finally succombed to the "Twilight Mania") in her latest get-up: white pants, white tee-shirt w/mock tie and lapel screen-printed on, white oxford shirt over that, dark black long mangy wig, punked out with a white bandana. She was modelling this for me, as it was to be her costume for a upcoming play (A Midsummer's Night Dream) when she remembered that she left something out in her car that she needed. She donned on a pair of fuzzy pink slippers and went out to get it, and when she came back in, she was chuckling to herself. She proceeded to say, "Our neighbors cannot figure me out. They are constantly seeing me in the weirdest get-ups (very true)." I guess our across-the-street neighbor, Heath, had just arrived home as Markelle was walking out to the car, and he just looked over at her in amazement. All of my girls have an offish sense of humor, which I love, but Markelle is very comfortable to take it to a whole new level. During her first year of high school, she began dressing to celebrate different holidays. It got to be so common and expected that the yearbook teacher would send his photographers out to find Markelle on the days there was a holiday to see what crazy outfit she had on. When Woods Cross played the cross town rival, she talked a group of her friends to dress up, and they went above and beyond outrageous. Recently, Steve and I had to jump start Markelle's car. When we opened up the trunk, it was stuffed full of her props and outfits for any occasion. We just shook our heads, rolled our eyes up heavenward and said to ourselves, "That Markelle!"

Thankfulness....

I have much to be thankful for...a husband that I admire, love and adore, my kids who are well on their way of becoming the people that they want to be, friends that are loyal, understanding, compassionate, kind, funny and extended family that is there when you need them. I am grateful that we made it through this past political season...it seemed very touch and go there for a while. I had to stop reading the newspaper and watching the news and listening to the radio. But, for better or for worse, we have a new president and life will go on. I will still love who I love, still strive to be nice and helpful and tolerant and understanding. I will still work on strengthening my self spiritually, physically, mentally, emotionally. I will still continue living my life the way I want to live it. So what was I so worked up about?