Cajun Corner – Vol.
5, No. 25 – June 29, 2013
Bon
Jour! Welcome to Cajun
Stitchery’s weekly email and welcome to our family.
ΘΘΘΘΘ
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Last week’s Cherries In The Snow turned out okay,
I guess. It was very stressful. A very dear friend of mine, who is a
wonderful chef herself, corrected my recipe a bit for me. She emailed and said that I should probably
leave out the sour cream. I did.
Saturday began just fine. I went to the store and purchased all of the
ingredients. The first step was the
angel food cake. This is a mix where you
only have to add water. How could anyone
mess that up? Well, guess what? I bought some aluminum foil baking container
things with plastic lids. That way I
could just leave it at my friend’s home and not worry about getting my plate
later. So far, so good. The aluminum foil bake ware was pretty
deep. I figured that I would put just
enough cake batter in each aluminum foil baking dish to come about half way up
and then I’d have room for the whipped cream, cream cheese, and cherry pie
filling. This all made sense to me.
Got the bowl and mixer out, put the water and
cake mix in the bowl, and began mixing these ingredients. 30 seconds on low to mix everything together;
then 1 minute on medium. Do not over
mix. The oven was on the correct
temperature. The box said not to grease
the baking dish. Everything was
perfect. I poured the cake batter into
the dish and the batter only came up about ¼ to ½ inch. Perfect!
I put the pan in the over and began mixing another cake. When I finished mixing the second cake and
put it in a pan, I opened the oven door and put the pan into the oven. A few minutes later I went back to check on
it. OMG!
The first cake had risen over the top of the aluminum baking dish with a
rounded top and the second cake wasn’t far behind the first.
At this point I panicked. How am I going to get all of that other stuff
on top of this cake and in the same pan?
I started thinking that maybe I could cut the cake in half and put the
topping in the middle. That would be
ugly. I made a panicked plea on
Facebook. One friend assured me that it
would be okay. Another assured me that
she doesn’t cook either and I should go to the store and buy a cake.
After the cakes finish cooking, I pull both
beautifully rounded cakes out of the oven to cool. They were at least an inch or two above the
pan. I sat waiting for them to
cool. That took much to long, so I stuck
them in the freeze. My patience was
wearing thin with those cakes.
Then I began the topping. I put the heavy cream into the bowl and beat
it at high speed. Little milk sprinkles
covered me and everything in the near vicinity.
It did thicken as the mixer continued to whirl. The sugar was added. Things began to look up. The whipped cream was nice and thick and
sweet. Then I added the blocks of cream
cheese. The word “cream” is a misnomer
for that. You would think something that
was cream would be smooth. Oh no. The blocks went into the whipped cream and
the mixed was chewing those blocks of cream cheese and spitting them out. When I say “spitting” I mean I had cream
cheese all over me, all over my kitchen, and all over my dogs. God bless dogs. My companions licked up that cream cheese
until I know their tongues had to be tired.
Nevertheless, the mixer kept whirling and eventually mixed all of the
cream cheese with the whipped cream creating a mixture with a million tiny
lumps of cream cheese. That was about
all of the time that I intended to spend on that mixture.
I then took the cakes out of the freezer. Thank God, the cakes sank in the middle, like
a low volcano. The cream mixture was
spread over the two cakes – much thicker in the middle than the sides. Finally, the cans of cherry pie filling were
opened and poured onto the top of the 2 cakes.
I must admit that in the end the cakes didn’t
look bad. I believe the cakes, at least
most of them, were eaten with no ill effects.
Lesson learned.
Next time I’m going to the store and buying a cake.
At the dinner party I learned that more ladies
received mysterious gnomes during the week.
Each gnome seems to be doing something indicative of the recipient. For instance, one of the gnomes has a book
and was given to a retired librarian.
The mystery continues. There has
been lots of speculation but the gnome giver remains anonymous. However, a new gnome language is
appearing. A lady gnome is now called a
“misgnomer.” The entire affair is
hilarious. Everyone seems to wish they
had been the one to think of carrying out such a wonderful prank.
Yesterday evening I went to get the mail. As I walked into the front yard, a young man
who appeared to be in his 20s, was riding what appeared to be a new, red, shiny
bicycle, stopped and said, “Hi, my name is Jerry.” He stuck out his hand and I shook it. He continued that he was looking for someone
to hire him to do yard work because he needed $20; he is homeless; and he needs
a place to stay. Just something about
this guy hit me wrong. It was kind of
creepy. Sam, the giant dog, was next
door barking his head off and the guy seemed a bit startled by Sam and
mentioned the big dog. I politely said
no to the guy and off he went.
This morning my Mardi Gras King called me to say
that his truck was stolen from his driveway last night. My King lives only a couple of blocks from
me. He said that whoever it was went
through his sister’s car and then stole his truck. He contacted the Sheriff’s Department but was
also getting the word out to everyone he knows in hopes that someone sees his
truck.
Later in the afternoon, one of his friends did,
indeed, see two guys driving his truck in this area. Stupid thieves didn’t even leave the
vicinity. They called the Sheriff’s
Department and the truck was found abandoned near a park a few blocks from
me. My king was thrilled to have his
truck back. As we talked, I mentioned
the guy on the bicycle from yesterday.
My king said that a guy on a bicycle had been riding in his area
yesterday and appeared to be scoping out the place. One of my neighbors saw the bicycle guy,
too. In fact, he said that the guy had
gone into several cars but never took anything; not even money. The whole neighborhood is on alert. How odd that the thief rummages through
vehicles and doesn’t take anything.
Hmmmm, I wonder what he is up to?
The flour sack towels with the little mermaids on
them are doing well. They are $15
each. There is one for sale in our Etsy
store. More can be made. Get ‘em while they are hot.
My poor son had to have his dog put down this
week. The whole family is grieving. Pets become such an important part of any
family. They are family members and it
hurts when they pass. Her name was Paradise and she was only 6 years old. They spent the week back and forth with the
vet trying to figure out what is wrong with her and finally it was an internal
tumor that burst causing her to bleed from her nose. She is no longer in pain.
HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY
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Thank you Courtney Winstead for the following:
THIS IS A GOOD One for the history
books.
books.
ON JULY 20, 1969, AS COMMANDER OF
THE APOLLO 11 LUNAR MODULE, NEIL
THE APOLLO 11 LUNAR MODULE, NEIL
ARMSTRONG WAS THE FIRST PERSON TO SET FOOT
ON THE MOON.
ON THE MOON.
HIS FIRST WORDS AFTER STEPPING ON
THE MOON, "THAT'S ONE SMALL STEP
THE MOON, "THAT'S ONE SMALL STEP
FOR MAN, ONE GIANT LEAP FOR MANKIND,"
WERE TELEVISED TO EARTH AND
WERE TELEVISED TO EARTH AND
HEARD BY MILLIONS.*
BUT, JUST BEFORE HE RE-ENTERED THE
LANDER, HE MADE THE ENIGMATIC REMARK
LANDER, HE MADE THE ENIGMATIC REMARK
"GOOD LUCK, MR. GORSKY."
MANY PEOPLE AT NASA THOUGHT IT WAS A
CASUAL REMARK CONCERNING SOME
CASUAL REMARK CONCERNING SOME
RIVAL SOVIET COSMONAUT. HOWEVER, UPON
CHECKING, THERE WAS NO GORSKY
CHECKING, THERE WAS NO GORSKY
IN EITHER THE RUSSIAN OR AMERICAN SPACE
PROGRAMS.
PROGRAMS.
OVER THE YEARS, MANY PEOPLE
QUESTIONED ARMSTRONG AS TO WHAT THE -
QUESTIONED ARMSTRONG AS TO WHAT THE -
“GOOD LUCK, MR. GORSKY” STATEMENT
MEANT, BUT ARMSTRONG ALWAYS JUST SMILED.
MEANT, BUT ARMSTRONG ALWAYS JUST SMILED.
ON JULY 5, 1995, IN TAMPA
BAY,
FLORIDA , WHILE
ANSWERING QUESTIONS
FOLLOWING A SPEECH, A REPORTER BROUGHT
UP THE 26-YEAR-OLD QUESTION ABOUT MR. GORSKY TO ARMSTRONG.
UP THE 26-YEAR-OLD QUESTION ABOUT MR. GORSKY TO ARMSTRONG.
THIS TIME HE FINALLY RESPONDED
BECAUSE MR. GORSKY HAD DIED, SO NEIL
BECAUSE MR. GORSKY HAD DIED, SO NEIL
ARMSTRONG FELT HE COULD NOW ANSWER
THE QUESTION.
THE QUESTION.
HERE IS THE ANSWER TO "WHO WAS MR. GORSKY":
IN 1938, WHEN HE WAS A KID IN A
SMALL MID-WESTERN TOWN
, HE WAS
IN 1938, WHEN HE WAS A KID IN A
PLAYING BASEBALL WITH A FRIEND IN THE
BACKYARD.
BACKYARD.
HIS FRIEND HIT THE BALL, WHICH
LANDED IN HIS NEIGHBOUR'S YARD
BY THEIR BEDROOM WINDOW.
BY THEIR BEDROOM WINDOW.
HIS NEIGHBOURS WERE MR. AND MRS.
GORSKY. AS HE LEANED DOWN TO PICK
GORSKY. AS HE LEANED DOWN TO PICK
UP THE BALL, YOUNG ARMSTRONG HEARD MRS.
GORSKY SHOUTING AT MR. GORSKY,
GORSKY SHOUTING AT MR. GORSKY,
"SEX! YOU WANT SEX?! YOU'LL GET SEX WHEN
THE KID NEXT DOOR WALKS ON THE MOON!"
IT BROKE THE PLACE UP.
NEIL ARMSTRONG'S FAMILY CONFIRMED
THIS IS A TRUE STORY.
THIS IS A TRUE STORY.
Cajun Stitchery
(850) 261-2462
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all of the catalogs and pass some time with me, cher.