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roaring chickens: how I found my voice

One of my Mom’s many stories was about how she kicked the bucket…literally: I had a job stacking pails coming off a paint line. One of my bosses came in and told me to stack them one way, and so I did. Well, then, my other boss came in and told me to stack them a different way. So I did. Then the first boss came back in and asked: “Why are you stacking ’em this way and not the way I told you to?” Well, I’ll tell you what I did. I kicked those pails all over the place Read More

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Mom's famous balls

Peanut butter balls, that is. (Yes, she’d get a kick of that title…she’d probably tell the story of the time we saw the cock rock…but alas, that’s another post.) For as long as I can remember, Mom made her famous peanut butter balls (along with fudge) every holiday season. She’d store them on the back porch…where the winter air would chill them so they popped ever so perfectly when you put them in your mouth. They were a holiday staple in our home. I don’t want to lose that. Making peanut butter balls–from the mixing to the rolling to the coating–is Read More

IMG_1941

Mom’s famous balls

Peanut butter balls, that is. (Yes, she’d get a kick of that title…she’d probably tell the story of the time we saw the cock rock…but alas, that’s another post.) For as long as I can remember, Mom made her famous peanut butter balls (along with fudge) every holiday season. She’d store them on the back porch…where the winter air would chill them so they popped ever so perfectly when you put them in your mouth. They were a holiday staple in our home. I don’t want to lose that. Making peanut butter balls–from the mixing to the rolling to the coating–is Read More