Visiting Jack

Posted on January 4, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Cousin Lauren came down to visit me here in Nashville the other day. After some lunch and a trip to Comcast to switch out my cable box (I’m so much fun to visit), we headed to Lynchburg, Tennessee for a tour of Jack Daniel’s Distillery.

As we neared the distillery in the car, cousin Lauren remarked how another distillery she had driven by had these creepy old buildings. Moments after we stepped out of the car, we determined this place was creepy, too. Must be a distillery thing. And the fact that it was miserably cold, damp, and foggy. Other than that, it was a perfect day for a distillery tour.

I’m such a great host.

This was pretty nifty. There is a natural source of water under this here hunk of rock that is used in the production of Jack Daniel’s products. Apparently it’s some pretty pure stuff and makes Jack Daniel’s whiskey taste real good. How do people figure these things out is what I want to know.

This is not a black and white photo in case you were wondering.

After we went through the buildings where the whiskey is produced, we found ourselves by some very black trees. The trees turn black from a mold that grows on them as a byproduct of the distillery. Our tour guide assured us that the mold is not harmful to the trees or to people and is in fact a sign that the production of whiskey is going well. Looks can be deceiving!

In the next building, where the whiskey drips through 10 feet of hard sugar maple charcoal to be purified, our tour guide lifted the lids of the large containers so we could smell the whiskey. We got a huge whiff of the whiskey, which made me think of bourbon balls as the smell lingered in my nostrils.

Pleasant thought, no?

This prompted me to ask cousin Lauren about some candy my mom had brought down with her from her friend. I was under the impression that all chocolate specimens in the tin were bourbon balls. Here was our clarifying conversation:

Me: “Those bourbon balls didn’t really taste like bourbon at all. They actually tasted almost like coconut.”

Cousin Lauren, “Did the ones you ate have pecans on top of them?”

Me: “No.”

Cousin Lauren: “Then you were eating coconut balls. The ones with pecans on top are bourbon balls. The ones without pecans are coconut balls.”

Me: “Oh……No wonder they tasted like coconut. At least I have a good sense of taste and could identify the coconut.”

Cousin Lauren: “…and the lack of bourbon.”

I’m glad we got that cleared up. It was really troubling me.

Towards the end of the tour, I asked our tour guide where she was from because she clearly did not have a southern accent and had been asking people in the group where we were from. Coincidentally, she was from Massachusetts, where I lived for 13 years and moved here from in April. I asked her where in Massachusetts she was from and she told me Salem, a town famous for the witch trials that occurred centuries ago. These creepy trees would fit right in there.

All I have to say is, this world is tiny.

And I like bourbon balls.

And try to arrive at the distillery before 2:30PM if you would like a tasting tour.

We arrived at 2:40PM.

Y’all be careful,

Sugarlump

Christmas Traditions

Posted on December 26, 2012 by The Sugarlump

This year marked a big transition in tradition for the Dyer household. Instead of having our family Christmas at my parents’ house as we have always done, I hosted here in my new hometown of Nashville.

In my one bedroom apartment.

I didn’t foresee an issue as I have a large sectional that can sleep two people so I knew all four of us would have a comfortable place to sleep.

What I didn’t foresee was the blanket shortage. I wound up sleeping under my robe.

It’s ok though. Santa still showed up and we had our family Christmas.

I may need a bigger place if I plan on hosting regularly.

After our family Christmas on Christmas Eve morning with just me, Eugene and my mom and dad, we headed to Kentucky for Christmas on Christmas Day with the extended family.

Got that straight?

We always sleep at my dad’s parents’ house on Christmas Eve. My aunt, uncle and cousins live just down the road so they do their family Christmas early in the morning and then head to my grandparents for the big family Christmas on Christmas Day.

Christmas morning, Granny made sausage gravy and biscuits. Man that stuff is good. I certainly couldn’t eat it every day but then again my great grandparents did and they lived into their 90’s so maybe there’s something to that. I’ll have to ponder that at a later time when I’m feeling less full.

Per tradition, we started with our stockings. Among other lovely items, there was a Starbucks gift card, which it looks like I could have used that morning if the nearest Starbucks weren’t over 70 miles away.

After the stockings, we moved into the living room and the youngins passed out the gifts. Eugene found a tagless gift, which was cause for great concern.

My mom and Aunt Vickie received some money in shot glasses from Santa (Papa). I found this hilarious. I’m glad Aunt Vickie thought so, too.

Granny got her box of tide with a dollar bill from Papa. He’s been doing this for decades and I’m still not really sure how it started. Maybe someday I’ll get to the bottom of it.

After Christmas at my dad’s parents’ house, we headed down the road (literally) for Christmas with my mom’s parents.

I went straight for a bourbon ball….or two. I have a wicked sweet tooth and there’s no telling when it will strike.

We settled into the living room and opened our gifts. It wasn’t the same without my aunt, uncle and cousin on my mom’s side, but we were certainly thinking of them and wishing they could have been with us.

After seeing the photo that my parents sent out unsupervised in the family Christmas card this year where I look possessed, Eugene and I insisted that we supply suitable photographs for next year’s card. We had my dad take about 437 photos and this was one of the better ones.

With cameras retired for the day, we ate the delicious Christmas dinner that Grandmother had prepared for us.

Then I had a few more bourbon balls and a piece of rum cake.

We played a game of Scrabble, one of our favorites. I wasn’t on top of my game. There’s only so much you can do when dealt X, B, J, H, L, L, T. That, and most of the blood in my body was likely trying to aid in the digestion of the forty pounds of food I had eaten in the past few hours instead of pumping through my brain for a stroke of vocabulary genius.

And then I might have had another bourbon ball.

And then some leftover dressing from Christmas Eve dinner back at Granny and Papa’s.

And a piece of the jam cake cousin Lauren and I made on Thanksgiving and let ripen for Christmas. It was scrumptious.

I think I’ll be full until next year.

These things are the devil.

Y’all be careful,

Sugarlump

Christmases Past

Posted on December 25, 2012 by The Sugarlump

I stumbled across a few gems from Christmases in the late 1980’s/early 1990’s.

Evidently, I used to be a Christmas angel.

(My mother just informed me that this was not a good day.

Apparently, I did not want to have my picture taken.

Can you blame me?

Two words, Mom: white tights.)

While sitting to have my picture made was not high on my list, I certainly got my money’s worth out of my toys. Never was a child more content to play with her dollhouse for hours on end.

I enjoyed commanding the attention of many a den full of family members.

I was happy to pitch in and help document the family Christmas.

(Thankfully, Fashion Police hasn’t gotten wind of these pants. I was a very skinny toddler and all I can say about these pants is that my mother must have had high hopes that I would expand drastically and require pant legs large enough to store my toys in. No such luck. I bet even now I wouldn’t have an issue getting those things over my thighs.)

Christmases were going swimmingly.

(Aside from the fashion.)

And then suddenly I wasn’t the only grandchild anymore….

By 1993, there were four.

Oh how Christmases have changed over the last couple of decades…

Merry Christmas, y’all,

Sugarlump

Oh Christmas Tree

Posted on December 16, 2012 by The Sugarlump

It’s been so long since a fresh post. Too long really.

It’s so annoying how life gets in the way of blogging about my life.

I’ve been up to a lot of things as the holiday season picks up speed, namely getting my apartment ready to host my immediate family Christmas.

The first order of business was a tree. I wrangled a live 8 foot Frasier fir into my jeep and then up 2 flights of stairs to my apartment.

All by myself, thank you very much.

I just flung that puppy over my shoulder and never looked back.

I was very impressed by my achievement as I went to put the stand on the tree and realized I had no tree stand. What a buzz kill.

What happened was that I saw a tree stand at Lowe’s where they didn’t have any garland so I decided I would just get the tree stand wherever I found garland and save myself a holiday madness check out experience. I found garland at Home Depot and plumb forgot about that there tree stand thing.

It’s a miracle that I can make it to work with matching shoes on a regular basis.

So glad that my efforts toward time efficiency had paid off, I trudged out to my car and drove to Home Depot. I parked my car and grabbed for my wallet in my purse. No wallet. Man, that day was really shaping up to be a good one.

Thoroughly frustrated by myself, I drove back to my apartment, went and grabbed my wallet and set off for my FOURTH journey for that dang tree stand.

Even though I never got out of the car at Home Depot, my pride would not allow me to drive back there for the third time in 2 hours. So I found myself at Lowe’s, purchasing the tree stand that I had opted out of purchasing just hours earlier so I could save myself some time.

BAH, HUMBUG, y’all,

Sugarlump

Leopard Shoes and a 22

Posted on November 25, 2012 by The Sugarlump

I discovered something about myself on Thanksgiving this year and surprisingly it has nothing to do with food.

It has to do with weaponry.

I like to shoot guns.

But only at inanimate targets.

Don’t worry, I didn’t shoot a turkey.

I don’t even like turkey that much.

I’m more of a side dish kind of girl…

…Who likes to shoot guns.

I’m not really sure how we got on the topic, but I asked Uncle Brian if there were any guns I could shoot for fun. After our noon Thanksgiving meal, he came back with a 22 rifle. We piled into Papa’s truck and headed to one of the farms to do some damage.

Figuratively speaking, anyway.

When we got to the farm, my dad set up a very sophisticated 100ft target: a bucket on a stick.

We like to keep things simple in my family.

My cousins Lauren and Kristen shot first as I had not a clue what I was doing and thought I would benefit from watching them shoot a few rounds.

When it was my turn, I picked up the rifle, spent about 5 minutes trying to get my grip/stance/hair (joke) just right and then slowly pulled the trigger.

Click.

There were no shells left in the rifle.

Man, was that anti-climactic.

Uncle Brian reloaded the gun and I took a couple of shots. In all of the shots we took, the bucket never moved. We went to check it out and discovered several holes in the bucket (dear Liza, dear Liza), but the mystery remains who actually hit the target.

I asked for a different target that I could actually tell if I hit so my dad set up a small, empty water bottle. Having had some trouble getting comfortable shooting with my right hand given that my left eye is dominant, I decided to test out shooting lefty even though I’m right-handed.

Please take note of my highly appropriate attire for this activity.

I set up the shot amidst a cloud of skepticism from my family.

I pulled the trigger and wouldn’t you know I hit that dang bottle on my first lefty shot?

Here’s my trophy shot. The bullet hole was right smack in the middle of the bottle. I nailed that sucker.

Cousin Lauren nailed another sucker.

We set up some more targets and I managed to continue with a decent success rate shooting lefty.

That was fun.

Watch out. I’m armed and dangerous and fabulous now.

Y’all be careful,

Sugarlump

Showing Cattle

Posted on October 28, 2012 by The Sugarlump

Yet another gem from the childhood summer adventures of cousins Lauren and Emily, here we have documentation of our days showing cattle.

In preparation for our debut at the fair, Granny took us to the big city of Bowling Green to get some matching outfits. We landed on these precious denim vests, black shorts and black boots. Naturally, we chose to coordinate our socks with our t-shirts. And in case you missed them, we were wearing gigantic black bows. We kind of had a double layer Oreo thing going with the black and white. Granny added a nice touch by sewing little sunflower patches onto our vests. I think they really pulled the look together.

Here we are posing with our trophy cow. She was just thrilled to have a couple of little girls around.

This young lady certainly wasn’t going anywhere with all of us anchoring her rope. We were so much help. For all I know, this cow might have been a young man.

That’s my dad in the red cap.

I can’t help but notice that this calf and I have nearly the same leg shape: knobby.

Man was I happy to be there.

We don’t seem to have any pictures of me and Lauren showing our calves individually. Poor cousin Lauren got a wild one and I think he stepped on her foot a time or two. She persevered.

Granny and Eugene cheered us on from the stands as we won a few ribbons for our efforts. The event concluded with a celebratory Sippy cup of apple juice.

Today, cousin Lauren turned 22. In the 17 years since these photos were taken, she has learned a tremendous amount about cattle and showing them. Regrettably, the same cannot be said for me. Maybe someday we’ll get back out there in our sunflower vests and cousin Lauren can give me a few pointers.

Happy Birthday, Lauren! I will always treasure our summer adventures.

Y’all hurry back,

Sugarlump

Big Stuff

Posted on October 20, 2012 by The Sugarlump

I was big stuff when I was little.

Here I am showing the foundation of my childhood home in Philadelphia who’s boss. (The reality is that my dad probably asked me to go stand out in the middle of the foundation for a sense of scale.)

Prior to living in Philadelphia, we lived in Maryland, where my sister and I were born. Here I am standing at the front door ready to head out for doubles. I always hiked up one pant leg for good measure.

I don’t know what I am waving around in my hand in this photo. My hypothesis is that it was a VHS that I wanted my dad to come put in the VCR in the sunroom.

After my baby doll had worn out her welcome, I used her as a pillow when watching TV on the floor. I was a very resourceful toddler.

When I was even smaller, I used to help Papa check on the cattle.

I was taller than Papa.

Granny and I would sit on the front walk and have serious discussions about all kinds of things…like Barbie, Barney, and the Berenstain bears.

I even wrote letters to Granny before I could read. Here is one written the year my sister, who is now a junior in college, was born. It appears that I wrote largely in code, except for Granny’s name.

Man, I sure got my money’s worth out of childhood.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

Sweet Tooth

Posted on October 18, 2012 by The Sugarlump

I have a serious sweet tooth. Actually, I like sweets so much that I would say I have sweet teeth. I think I have 4. Sweet teeth that is. Not 4 teeth. I have a lot more than 4 teeth in case you were getting the wrong idea. However, if I continue to eat so many sweets, my teeth may start to fall out and I may someday have only 4 teeth. But let’s not think about that.

I have no idea where I got my sweet tooth. It might have to do with the fact that there are a lot of excellent, and I mean top-notch, bakers in my family. As you can see, I served as designated bowl-licker as a toddler. I’ve excelled in this role over the years.

I was often quite involved in the baking process so it was only natural that I wanted to enjoy the fruits of my labor.

I was very adventurous in trying new sweets, like Papa’s ice cream Popsicle.

My grandparents made the mistake of building cabinets accessible to toddlers. If you couldn’t find me, I was likely in the cabinet, foraging for cookies.

I sure love me some sweets. I also, however, really like savory food. I guess what it boils down to is that I just don’t like bland food. Can you blame me?

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies

Posted on October 16, 2012 by The Sugarlump

I once had a peanut butter chocolate chip cookie at a local restaurant in the town I grew up in.

It changed my life forever.

After that day, it became my mission to perfect a peanut butter chocolate chip cookie recipe.

It took many a flop for me to get to where I am today. I tried several recipes I found online and none was peanut-buttery enough. So I tinkered with this and that and I think I’ve got a good thing going. The trick is to put in A LOT of peanut butter. Shocking, I know. Also, take the cookies out of the oven before they look done. I mean it. If you leave them in there until they look done, they will turn into bricks. And no one likes to eat peanut butter chocolate chip bricks.

If you want to become instantly popular among your younger sister’s high school pals, I would suggest making these cookies. After I made the cookies for the youngsters the first time, I was hit up for a double batch almost every time they came over. I nearly broke my mixer once when I received a triple batch request.

There were never any cookies left by the time Eugene’s friends went home.

Here’s how to become instantly popular among your sister’s friends:

Assemble butter, peanut butter, sugar, light brown sugar, eggs, all-purpose flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and chocolate chips but NOT vanilla extract. I don’t know what that was doing there.

Ingredients (recap):

1) 1 stick of unsalted butter, softened

2) ¾ cup of peanut butter

3) 1/3 cup of light brown sugar

4) 2/3 cup of sugar

5) 1 egg

6) 1 ¼ cup all-purpose flour

7) ½ teaspoon baking powder

8) ½ teaspoon baking soda

9) ¼ teaspoon salt

10) 1 cup chocolate chips (preferably 60% bittersweet)

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Measure out the first 4 ingredients and throw them into a mixing bowl.

I would highly recommend spraying your measuring cup with cooking spray to help that peanut butter slide right into the bowl. Keep a spatula handy in case the peanut butter gets pesky.

Cream the butter, peanut butter and white and brown sugars until light in color.

Add the egg and mix until incorporated.

Sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add dry mixture to wet mixture and mix until just combined.

Stir in chocolate chips by hand. I would have taken a picture but I was stirring.

Drop the dough onto a baking sheet using a large spring-loaded cookie/ice-cream scoop for even cookies. Press down to flatten the cookies to ¾” thick. The cookies should be about 3″ in diameter. If you only have a medium size cookie/ice-cream scoop like the one pictured above, your cookies will be about 2″ in diameter. Press any straggler dough into the sides of the cookies so they look prettier and more uniform when they come out of the oven.

Bake for 8-12 minutes (depending on your scoop size) or until just barely starting to brown. The cookies will look underdone. Let the cookies cool for 5 minutes on baking sheet and then serve or finish cooling them on wire rack.

I tidied up the edges of the dough for the cookies on the left and neglected to do so for the batch on the right. The ones on the left are much more attractive. However, I over-baked the cookies on the left and the ones on the right were just right. You really have the watch these suckers. The MOMENT you see just a hint of brown on the cookies, remove them from the oven to cool IMMEDIATELY.

I mean it.

You’ll thank me.

Y’all eat up,

Sugarlump

Childhood Campfires

Posted on October 15, 2012 by The Sugarlump

When we were little, Papa used to take us grandbabies camping on the top of the hill behind Granny and Papa’s house. We would haul the kids’ picnic table to the top of the hill (read: Papa would put it in the back of his truck and drive it to the top of the hill for us) and Granny would load us up with hotdogs, buns and marshmallows for a lunch by the campfire. We always had a big time. I can smell the marshmallows burning just thinking about it. Oh man, those were the days.

I recently found some photos of these camping adventures in some old family albums.

Here’s my sister Eugene at age 3, roasting a branch and channeling her inner Pocahontas. She was wearing her idol’s shirt for good vibes.

On this particular afternoon, it appears I was thrilled to be roughing it in the backyard at the Fisher-Price picnic table. Cousin Lauren looks significantly less thrilled.

A few minutes later, there was quite a shift in the mood. Cousin Lauren is proudly displaying a walnut as I manage a smirk and continue to slouch. My dad would be so displeased with my posture in these pictures.

And, for Pocahontas, it’s 5 o’clock somewhere.

Here is Pocahontas doing a little interpretive dance after her beverage. Or maybe she had to go to the bathroom. Either way, she was really getting the most out of our afternoon in the wilderness.

Always an adventure “camping” with Papa.

Y’all keep it real,

Sugarlump