There’s something about southern food, and it’s more than just artery clogging.  They use sugar.  REAL sugar.  And butter and cream and they have Steak & Shake!

Ok, so maybe it is artery clogging, but we all have to go somehow.  May as well be with a big bowl of banana pudding.

This weekend my husband was telling my mother about some of the churches he’s preached in recently.  When he said a name and location, I piped in “They made the best green fluffy marshmallow fruit stuff.”  or “Their banana pudding was to die for.  I can almost taste it.”

I promise I don’t go to church just to eat, but if they’re going to feed me, I can’t be rude.  Now can I?

Of course not, but just so you know, I did not take seconds on the banana pudding.   I wanted to very much, but I showed restraint.

Last week I was dreaming of white sandy beaches and barbeque.  I couldn’t get the luscious dark red sauce out of my mind, so I determined to make pulled pork sandwiches this weekend.  I remember seeing like thirty thousand barbeque recipes on Pinterest, but when I went looking, I hadn’t pinned a one.  Huh?  I always Pin when I’m hungry.  They have the most tantalizing photos of food.  I can drool all night and not gain an ounce.  It’s kind of like the patch for smokers, only it’s for food addicts.

So I did what any fearless culinary novice would do, I improvised.  I saw no less than a hundred recipes that used three ingredients – soda, BBQ sauce, and salt/pepper.  Lot’s of people used diet soda in their BBQ, but I decided to throw caution to the wind and use the real stuff.  I don’t think anyone with sweet tea running through their veins would use Diet Pepsi.  Correct me if I’m wrong.

In the lineup is Sweet Baby Ray’s BBQ Sauce, Dr. Pepper, and Seasoned Salt.  Next time I make it, I’ll add some other spices, red pepper flakes for sure.  It could have used more kick, but it was very tasty.

Finding a pork roast was no small task.  I went to two grocery stores and that’s all there is in a thirty mile radius.  Finally I found a roast at the local butcher shop and I just bought two, because who doesn’t want to eat barbeque two meals a day for a week.

I sprinkled the roasts with seasoned salt, put the roast in the crockpot, added Dr. Pepper with abandon, and squeezed about half the large bottle of barbeque sauce all over the meat.  Then I let it cook all day.

After it was cooked, I drained off some fat from the top, and pulled apart the pork.  I returned the pulled pork to the crockpot and let it absorb all the juice.  In its pulled form, it stayed in the crockpot for another hour.  Then I loaded it on whole wheat rolls, because I’m healthy like that, and gave it another good squeeze of sauce.

The only thing missing was the banana pudding, but I’m on a diet you know.

With temperatures in the mid-to-high 80′s, we’re throwing sweaters into trash bags (because my great mission organization hasn’t found my closets yet) and digging out summer clothes.  Eighty-six degrees feels like sauna when you experience frozen rain in the same calendar month.

That’s why when my mom, myself, and my kids stopped in a store this weekend, I grabbed a few pairs of $7.88 shorts and headed into the fitting room.  My mistake is I brought my daughter, the loose lips of honesty, into the fitting room with me.

I’ve recently lost fifteen pounds and I’m at peace with my fat.  Sure I could subject myself to boot camp style exercise and Jillian Michaels, but I don’t have a death wish just yet.  I’m perfectly content to take long evening walks with my family, rather than being screamed at by my DVD (I started to type VCR) player.  I respect Jillian’s prowess in the world of fat-burning, but if I wanted to be on the biggest loser, I would not have spent the last six  weeks eating ten bunches of bananas, four pounds of almonds, and three dozen fried, but not in butter eggs.

I don’t have cholesterol problems in case you’re wondering.  I once had a doctor tell me I had the cholesterol of a teenager.  I still ask God why I couldn’t just have the metabolism of a teenager, but He is eerily silent.

The first pair of not-so-short shorts fit perfectly, were $7.88, and a neutral color.  I was all set to make them my summer uniform when my daughter scrunched up her face and shook her head.

“What? Don’t you think these will work?”

“Well…”  She said and I knew any ounce of pride over those lost fifteen pounds was about to get flushed down the toilet.

“It’s just that when people get to your age, they shouldn’t be wearing that.  And, your legs don’t look so good.”

Remind me why I carried a nine and a half pound child around in my stomach and then labored to birth this mammoth baby of truth.

Needless to say I didn’t buy any shorts or shirts or any other summery articles of clothing.  I’ll either work with what I’ve got or sell my daughter on eBay and buy the shorts.  Maybe they’ll be on clearance by then.

Anyway, because I lost fifteen pounds and because I still need to join a leg fat recovery group, I’m giving away a dress.  You’ve seen this dress before, but I promise I’ve never worn it other than in these photos.  I went to throw it on this weekend, but it’s too big on me, so I thought one of you might be able to use it.

Here is a photo of me in the dress back when it was way too cold to even think about wearing it.

Why I love this dress:

1. It’s cotton.

2. It’s easy, just throw it over it over head, no fussing involved.

3. It’s washable – always a plus when you live in my house.

4. The little ruffle on the bottom flounces up and down when you walk down a flight of stairs. So cute! I’d buy it just for the ruffle.

This is an Augustine Sunshine Dress from Fresh Produce.  You can follow the link and see all the details.  This dress is a size Large and runs true to size.

If you’d like to be entered in a drawing to receive this dress, please let me know in your comment that you WANT the dress.

There are NO RULES to this giveaway, but I would appreciate it if you could hit the “LIKE” button on The Domestic Fringe’s Facebook page.  You’ll find the little box in the right sidebar and I would also appreciate your sharing this post somehow.  I don’t know how many of my readers would fit into or want this dress and I’d like to get it to someone who will enjoy it.

Thanks so much!

If you’re ever feeling a little too good about yourself, just let me know.  I’ll send my daughter right over.

One cold morning my neighbor, the pastry chef, and I sat sipping our steaming cups of tea and eating another of the delectable sugar and butter concoctions my friend created. It was on that calorie filled day I shared my desire to make vanilla extract. A plan was hatched and Fringe Vanilla was born, only its birth took another two years. That’s the way babies are sometimes. Either they are breaking free from the confines of their momma or they never want to come out and greet the world. I am just happy to say Fringe Vanilla is out and it’s changing the way we bake.

Not really, but I thought I should err on the side of dramatic for this introduction.

Fringe Vanilla

100% Pure Vanilla Extract

Made with Imported Certified Organic Vanilla Beans

Gluten Free / No Sugar Added

Fresh from the Fringe

The Secret Ingredient for all Things Heavenly

SALE

Purchase your Bottle of Fringe Vanilla before June 1st and Receive 20% Off

One 4 oz. Bottle of Pure Vanilla Extract is $10 + $3 Shipping anywhere in US & Canada

Save an Additional 20% When You Order Before June 1st

$8 for 4 oz. + $3 Shipping

HURRY AND GET YOUR BOTTLE TODAY

Leave a Comment Letting me Know You’d Like to Place an Order and I will Email The Details

Much Love,

P.S. A HUGE Thank You to my super-smart, talented, and always beautiful sister-in-law, a family photographer in the Panhandle of Florida, for the lovely Fringe Vanilla photos

My kids are off from school and don’t go back until Wednesday.  They have bunches of extra snow days that they didn’t use this year.  It was almost the year without snow and the snow we did get wasn’t worth mentioning.  I am not complaining one little bit.

We’ll be having fun and pretending we’re on summer break like the rest of the America who doesn’t live in the Northeast.

My mom is also visiting for the long weekend.  I hope you have as much fun as we’re planning on having.  What I’m looking forward to the most is dinner on Saturday – BBQ Pulled Pork Sandwiches.  I’m trying a new recipe and I’ll be sure to take pictures and share if it turns out good.  If it doesn’t, I’ll be very sad, because I went to two grocery stores and a butcher looking for a big pork roast to use.

Happy Memorial Day to you!

Note:  These photos are of a windfarm in New York.  I used PicMonkey.com to edit them.  I’m loving that website.  Have you tried it yet?

Any big plans for Memorial Day?

I should have gone to agricultural school since I’m practically living on a farm.  Slippy the lizard is more pampered than me.  He gets his cage misted twice a day and suns himself under a UV light.  Hello people!  It’s my job to lay in the sun and get misted.

So this is what life comes to…being jealous of a long-tailed lizard.  I never would have thought it.

For the record, I like Hot Shot the fish better than the lizard.  He’s quite a social fish as far as fish go.  I suppose it says something about my social life when I’m spending time with a fish.

The other animals we’re breading are spiders and dust bunnies.  I’m particularly concerned about the spider hanging from the ceiling right above my bed.  I was hoping he would just move on, but he seems to be lurking in the shadows waiting for me to rest my head on the pillow.

A bug-less world is the one good thing about winter.

You didn’t come here to hear about my exotic animals (reptiles or insects) though, so let’s change the subject, shall we?

Let’s talk about boys, tween boys.  They are odd creatures.  My son, not quite child, not quite teen is becoming more unusual with each passing day.  Tonight on our walk by the river, he dropped to the ground and somersaulted down the road before I could wonder at his unusual behavior.  He’s antsy, crawling out of his skin and I’m not sure how to keep him busy and fulfilled.

I remember wishing I was teenager, grown up enough to be a big kid, but not quite old enough to pay rent.  Those were the good old days.  I can relate to girls, the shopping, the whispering about boys, the senseless chatter, but boys…I don’t know about them.

Since my son wants to battle boats (really he just wants to battle and doesn’t understand why we won’t buy him a sharpened sword so he can practice sword fighting with his friends), FringeMan bought a few remote control boats.  It’s a guy thing they can do together.  Kind of like “you sunk my battleship” and stuff.

Whatever floats their boats!

(Did you catch that?  Pun intended.  I’m all kinds of witty tonight.)

Anyway I’ll just stop chattering and show you some pictures.  Notice that Barbie has as good a life as the lizard.

So what keeps your boys busy?

This week, I looked to Pinterest for inspiration.  If you cannot find inspiration on Pinterest, you are either dead or a man.  No offense men.

So here goes…It’s What I Wore this week.

For this first outfit, my inspiration came directly from Pinterest.

Thursday

Jeans Kohl’s , Shirt GAP, Necklace Francescas

Shoes Famous Footwear

I just knew you’d want to see my feet.  That’s why I took this picture.

I jest.

Thursday

I am really thankful for some sunshiny days this past week. I love sunshine!

Skort Kohl’s, Shirt GAP, Sandals Thrifted

Friday

FringeMan and I had a date at Panera Bread.  The kids participated in Parent’s Night Out.  My children refer to it as Kid’s Night Out and I don’t care what it’s called as long as I get OUT.

Once again my inspiration came from Pinterest.  I already had these clothes in my closet.

Same jeans from Kohl’s, Shirt is Hand-me-Down, Sweater is Yard Sale, Shoes K-Mart last spring

Saturday

Out with my daughter making memories and buying fish.

Shirt & Skirt Old Navy

Sunday

I know this outfit doesn’t “match” or even “go”, but I was in a hurry and couldn’t find anything to coordinate.  I just pretended I meant to look miss-matched.

Skirt Thrifted, Shirt Old Navy

Shoes K-Mart

And that’s it for this week.  I quit taking pictures on Sunday, because I can only bore you to death with so many pictures of my feet.  Now go check out The Pleated Poppy and Transatlantic Blonde for some real inspiration.

I linked the Pinterest photos to their original sources, so you can click on the photo for the source.

I promised myself in my head that I wouldn’t stop at any yard sales this summer.  I mean, what do I need?  If I’ve lived this long wihtout it, it most certainly cannot be a need.  I told myself not to do anything impulsive, especially when a trash heap is involved.  On Saturday I passed by four SALE signs without even a second glance.  I was pretty confident I had temptation beat.  It’s been about six weeks since an M&M went through my lips and if I can have victory over candy-coated chocolate, anything is possible.  I was flying high until Sunday night.

The glance was purely accidental.  I promise and my fingers are not crossed behind my back.  I didn’t mean to fall in love, but that’s the way it happens isn’t it?

The pile of junk was so small, just four little things.  My head spun on my shoulders like a broken record, and before I could utter a gasp, Fringeman said, “Oh, no.  Don’t even look!  We can’t bring any junk into the house.”

All I heard was “Blah, blah, blah.”

“Did you see that metal cart?”  I asked.

“You mean that piece of junk?  No way am I stopping.”

“But it’s sunshiny yellow.”

He turned around of course.  He loves me, and besides I went to the Harley Dealership with him.  Remember?

She cleaned up real well.  Don’t ya think?

FringeMan always wants to know “What are you going to do with it?”

I can’t always answer that question right away, mostly because I know he won’t like the answer.

I don’t think he’s noticed that it’s in our bedroom yet.  By the time he does, it will be part of the family.  Besides, it was FREE.  How could I let it go to the dump?

I’m historian almost, a rescuer of Americana.  Now I just have to convince FringeMan of that.

Do odd items in the middle of a rubbish heap sometimes call your name?

P.S.  The lamp is another rescue.  You can see my $10 makeover HERE.

So after much arguing discussion between the children, two trips to the pet store (buying nothing), and hours of online price shopping, my kids informed us that they could only afford three fish and no heater.  They even scratched the very cool, bubbling sunken ship off their list.  Oh, the sacrifice!

You’re probably thinking I gave them a budget of twenty bucks, but no.  I’m a modern parent who knows the price of pets, even the ones who can’t fetch my slippers.  They had a combined budget of fifty dollars, twenty-five a piece.  Do you know how many articles of clearance clothing I can buy for fifty bucks?  I assure you I would have more shirts than the three fish could wear.

If you’ve ever thought about buying fish, let me encourage you in your decision.  Walk away from the fish.  Buy a Finding Nemo DVD and call it good.

The truth is I’m not sure we could keep fish alive anyhow.  I hate wasting money, but wasting money to watch your fishies float to the top of the tank in death is a bad way to spend a paycheck, so I summoned my inner persuasive parent and reminded them of their original dream.

All my daughter wanted was a lone Betta fish to swim in a glass bowl in her room.  She wanted to watch him as she fell asleep.  My son, he wanted a frog or a crab or a snake, but I told him I would shoot a snake, so he woke up from that dream.

Just because something is free doesn’t mean it won’t cost you more money than you want to spend.

I’m happy to say our third trip to the pet store was a charm.  My daughter is happy with Hot Shot, her pet Betta.

My son, well, we compromised.  He walked away with a long-tailed lizard who came with a fourteen day money back guarantee.  Thank God, because he isn’t looking too good and it’s only day two.

In the end, my kids got what they wanted and I got the change.  It’s nice when a dream comes true.

Tell me, what pets do your kids want?

Homemade pizza on a snow day

After-school walks with my grandmother that too often took us to a pizza place

Playing Othello with my grandfather

Stopping for a Wendy’s Frosty after my orthodontist appointments

Picnics in the park

Summer days in my cousin’s pool

Going to work with my uncle and then stopping at Friendly’s for the biggest sundae they served

Illegal fireworks on the fourth of July

Watching the A-Team with my family

None of these memories are terribly out of the ordinary, but when I think back over my childhood, these are the good things pop into my mind.  A few of these events only happened a handful of times, but they left an impression.  At the time, my family probably didn’t even realize they were helping me make memories that would last a lifetime.    Just like I didn’t understand that two years ago my daughter and I did something that she would never forget.

Early on a Saturday morning we walked into town, stopped at the bakery to get two donuts, and ate them in the park.  It was such a simple morning.  I never gave it another thought, but my daughter loved that time we spent together.  She talks about all the time, so this morning we finally enjoyed a repeat.

The sun was shining and it was warm early.  We armed ourselves with a few dollars and a camera and set off for our walk across town. It was the most beautiful morning.  One we’ll both remember for years to come.  I even willingly broke my diet for a donut with my daughter.

This morning was worth every single sprinkled calorie.

What good memories do you have from your childhood?

Have you done any special memory making with your own children lately?

The excitement is palpable.  I guess that’s what happens when you’re about to welcome new life into your home – fish life that is.

You didn’t think I was talking about a child, or worse, a four-legged critter.  Did you?

Heavens no.  I’ve already been putting the fish off for five to seven years, give or take a child’s imagination.

Back when my daughter was somewhere between four and five years old (FringeMan and I disagree on the age), FringeKid asked for a fish.  She whined, begged, and pleaded, so I did what all good mothers do.  I put her desire to the test.  I told her if she kept her room clean for an entire summer, she could get a fish.  In my heart, I knew I would never be cleaning fish poop out of a bunch of neon colored gravel.  Never.

I think she was on to my wily parental ways, because every single day she’d clean up her room and then show me.  I was a bit shocked, dumbfounded even.  I tried this new technique on my son, even offering an entire aquarium, but no luck.  Dirty underwear and toys multiplied under his bed quicker than a classroom full of fourth graders can do their two times tables.

My daughter has the angelic child part down to a science.  She can turn on the sunshine and summon her inner clean kid when needed.  Although she’s a bit of a brown-noser, a kiss-up even, she’s terribly sweet.  She’s not only the teacher’s pet, but she also cleans the teacher’s fish tank.  I was doomed from the start.

So I bought a Betta fish, because they live alone and I didn’t want to colonize the bowl, and my daughter lived happily ever after.  Until it died.  I’ll never forget the day.  She sobbed, her little heart broken at the loss of her good friend.  You don’t know love until you’ve had a pet fish blink its wobbly bug eyes at you from the other side of a rounded glass tank.  She felt this loss to her core.  I feared we’d never have a fish fry again.

FringeMan wanted to flush Necklace.  Yes, she named her fish Necklace, but I never let her wear the fish around her neck.  I swear on the dead Betta’s grave.  FringeKid would have no part in flushing Necklace.  A proper ceremony was the only way to send her off to the big stream in the sky.  So, we did what all good parents do when their child is hurting.  We held a service.  FringeMan spoke some comforting words, we quoted a scripture, and then FringeMan flung Necklace into a bramble of berry bushes.

FringeBoy was certain the baby foxes got Necklace’s body, and he was sure to share this grave robbing theory with his sister.  It was a long time of mourning.  FringeKid drew a picture of the fish and hung it over her bed.  Years later when we moved, I had to pack the picture and bring it to her new room.  She still talks about that fish.  I only hope she’ll find such kind words for me after I’m gone.  I also hope FringeMan doesn’t fling me into the bushes, but it’s probably better than a ride down the toilet.

Now the long days of mourning are over and we’re ready to bring a new fish into the family.  Honestly, I’m not ready at all, but my elderly neighbor asked me for help with a few things and I said “Of course.”  Little did I know love thy neighbor would translate into four trips to the pet store.  It was just my luck that this lovely neighbor had a fish tank in her basement and she offered it to me in front of my daughter.  I’ve never seen such a happy child.

We’ve reminisced over Necklace.  Six years later, her stories are mostly fish tales, but the love is the same.  So it’s with good memories of fish that have gone on before, we welcome the new additions to our family.  We pick them up on Saturday.  I just hope we don’t need a car seat to bring them home.

Wish us luck, long life, and many future fish tales.