Soup for the soul

When I was growing up, I was never a fan of soup. After my mother had slaved over a pot of simmering goodness, I'd wrinkle my nose and scurry off to make myself a peanut butter sandwich.


Then I began to cook and I realized how glorious soups were. It's an entire meal in one pot, leaving plenty of room for biscuits. In this case, I made wheat dinner rolls from scratch.

And everyone knows how much I like dinner rolls. It's like the friendly cousin of the biscuit family.

This soup is my mother's recipe, and it's fantastic. For one, it's extremely easy. You basically dump all the ingredients in a pot and stir it every once in awhile. That's why I can make it. It also makes a large batch, making it freezer worthy.

The only problem I can see with the soup is that you're in such a hurry to eat it, you forget to take pictures after deciding to feature it on your blog. All you get is this.





But it's ok. We can still drool over the lovely dinner rolls. Basically, I used the dinner roll recipe in the Better Homes and Garden New Cookbook.


I used the wheat flour version. We're all about being healthy here at the Pond.



Please ignore the butter slathered all over the pan.

So after a long weekend at a wedding or a busy one with the kids, just pop some veggies, browned ground beef, barely, herbs and spices and let the soup simmer for an hour or so.


Dinner rolls never hurt either. I like mine with butter and honey. It's the healthy thing to do.

This photo was not staged.

The best part? Even the biggest soup critic will adore it.


Debbie's Vegetable Beef Soup

1 1/2 lbs. ground beef
2 cups frozen corn
2 cups crinkle frozen carrots
1 cup fast cooking barley
1/2 bag frozen green beans
3 medium potatoes or 2 large ones- peeled and cubed
1 can tomato paste
1 TBSP dried onions or onion powder
1 TBSP basil
1 tsp. rosemary
1 tsp. thyme
1 bay leaf (remove when soup is done.)

Brown ground beef in beef broth. Dump into pot. Add all vegetables and tomato paste and spices. Add water until vegetables are covered. Let it simmer for over an hour. Add biscuits, dinner rolls or cornbread.

* Tomorrow, the second edition of the spooky diner that Abby has wondered in on midnight on Halloween! And Saturday, the answer to Jen's tag of 7 things!

Waiting to twirl

Vivi hadn't even climbed out of her car before her father barreled out of the front door.

"Vivienne Markov, where have you been?" he shouted, waving his arms as spittle flicked from his purple lips. "Do you know what time it is?"

Vivi rolled her eyes and pulled her dance bag from the front seat. She slammed the car door and turned to face her fuming father. The fuzzy tingle in her belly evaporated and the smile dropped from her face. The smell of Wade's shirt and the feel of his hand on hers as she twirled on the wooden floorboards seemed a million miles away.

"Well?" her father demanded, glowering down at her.

"I was dancing," she said, shoving by him on the way to the garage. "What else would I be doing?"

"Dancing?" he snarled, reaching for her loose curls. He wrapped his fingers around them and jerked. She cried out as her head smacked against his knuckles.

"What's wrong with you?" she cried, slapping at his hands. "What's your problem?"

"My problem," her father hissed as he released her hair, "is you. I know you're lying. I went to the studio and you weren't there."

"I went somewhere else to dance," Vivi said, slamming into the kitchen. "It's called cross-training." She thundered up the stairs. Her father glowered at the base of the stairwell as she rushed across the hallway to her room.

"That competition is important, Vivienne!" he called after her. "I've--I mean you've--worked too hard to fail. We'll talk about this in the morning before dance practice!"

Vivi bit her tongue to avoid replying with a curse word. She dropped her bag on the floor and flopped onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. Just an hour earlier, she had felt on top of the world. Now the only thing she wanted to do was cry. Her eyelids felt like they had been scrubbed with sandpaper. She looked at the clock and groaned. It was almost midnight and she had to get up at five for drill team practice. She thought about kick line practice and tears sprang to her eyes. If only all dancing could be like it was with Wade.

Smiling to herself, she slid her jeans off her tight-covered hips. She had to know about him. She had to know what he did, how old he was, what his favorite food was. The plan had come to her like a dream. She would sneak out of practice early and drive over to the dance hall. She'd grab a table in the back and watch him, maybe ask around a little bit. She'd learn all about Wade, then spend the next night dancing in his arms. She sighed and folded her jeans over her arm. A piece of paper hit the floor.

Wrinkling her forehead, she bent down and picked up the paper. Setting down her jeans, she unfolded the tight yellow square. Biting her lip with excitement, she stared at the tight writing across the paper: W. 786-3456.

Without another thought, she grabbed her cell phone out of her dance bag. She punched in the numbers and waited impatiently, her heart in her throat. What if this wasn't him? What if it was a mistake? In fact, how did the note get in her back pocket? Maybe she had grabbed it absently. Maybe it was a note for another girl. Her chest froze and she gasped when a warm voice filled her ear.

"Hey, Vivi."

"How'd you know it was me?" she squeaked.

She could hear his smile over the phone. "Just did. Besides, it's not like I slide my number into girls' pockets often."

"You don't?" she blurted out. "I mean," she amended, wishing she could stop sounding like a dork every time she opened her mouth, "I just figured you'd be popular with girls."

"Nope. Until you, stayed far away from them. Too much trouble, too much time. I got enough work to do."

"Why me?" she asked, her hand tightening around the phone.

The moment of silence felt like a eternity. "I guess the best way to say it is you captured my attention," he said, his voice sounding rough and embarrassed. "My granddaddy would say I'm smitten."

Smitten was only one of the words Vivi would have chosen to describe how she was feeling. "I need to know about you," she demanded. "What do you do? What do you like? Why are you so perfect?"

He laughed and Vivi felt her toes tingle. "I'm not even close to perfection darling," he chuckled. "What's your first question?"

Vivi knew exactly what she wanted to know. Plopping down on her bed, she held the phone to her ear and smiled.

To be continued...


Tomorrow--veggie beef soup and homemade wheat rolls!

The Blond Duck goes to a wedding.

You would have never guessed it, but I generally hate weddings.


We've been to a lot of weddings, and Ben's been a groomsmen in over half of them. We've seen fancy weddings, conservative weddings, casual weddings (ours) and weddings with brides that puts Star Jones to shame.

But we had never been to a wedding like this before.



Ben's buddy Greg (grey shirt) from college married a gorgeous small-town Texas girl named Kelli on Saturday. (I don't have a picture of her.) Both of these fine folks are from established families in the community. They also love to entertain and throw lavish events. So as we drove up to Killeen, Texas, I could only imagine what was in store for us.


Friday around noon, we left the Babies with Mom and hit the Interstate. We stopped in Austin to have lunch with my Dad. You can only guess what he treated us to.

I was so happy. I had barbecue smeared all over my face, my hands, meat jammed in my teeth...it was pure heaven. I'm still drooling.


After I was hosed down, we made it to the hotel. Greg's parents were kind enough to provide us not only with our hotel room but Ben's tux, so we hardly had to do anything. We just showed up. The hotel was buzzing about this wedding, which was the thing in town. It was so big that the reception was at the convention center. Six hundred had been invited and four hundred were attending.


I dug some more meat out of my teeth and grinned at the ladies. They weren't impressed.



When we got to our room, we found sussies.


Not only did we have a gift bag full of goodies, but we had a three page itinerary with a map and directions. I had never seen such an organized wedding in my life. We had once been at a wedding where the rehearsal dinner was pizza in the lobby with torn pizza boxes as plates.


After the rehearsal, we drove to the rehearsal dinner. It was a very elegant affair at a Italian restaurant. Waiters were serving champagne, toasts were given and salmon and steak were served.

I spent the night trying not to act like I'd fallen off the turnip truck. Most of the families there were very established, upscale (old money) families. They were very kind and generous. I was beyond intimidated.

To make myself more at ease, I tied a bow on Ben's head in the middle of dinner. I am nothing but classy.

We returned to the hotel after 11, where I immediately crashed into bed. Ben attended the bachelor party, whining that he was tired and would be back in an hour. Around 4 a.m., he came skipping in beaming about winning $75. I found out the next day all he had done was whine about wanting to go to bed as he kept winning hands. The other boys weren't so thrilled.



So while Ben wuffled about staying up all night, I scurried to the hotel gym. For two hours, I snarled at anyone who dared to enter.



Then I ate this. I couldn't let a perfectly good pie go to waste, could I? That's blasphemy. Don't worry, I had lunch first. Greg's parents (these were the most super-organized people I ever met) had catered sandwiches brought in a small suite for the groomsmen and their dates to hang out in until the wedding. There were chips, drinks, cookies, finger sandwiches....

The pie was all mine. I snarled at anyone who came near.

We were down in the lobby by three to get to the church for the 6 p.m. wedding. I made Ben take a picture.



While Ben did groomsmen things, I ran around and helped when I was needed. Then I sat down and chatted with one of the bridesmaid's mothers and the other rejected groomsmen's wives until the ceremony.



The ceremony was held in a old Methodist church. There were candles everywhere, lush bouquets of white flowers and satin ribbons at the edge of the pews. Everyone wore elegant jewels and their best clothing. The bride wore a gorgeous long white dress covered in sequins and elegant beading.

I found some more meat in my teeth. Ben waited until after the pictures were taken to yank his tie off.


The reception was even more gorgeous. The bride's colors were chocolate brown and light blue, so there were chocolate brown chairs and runners down the tables with these bouquets on the table. And candles. Lots of candles. We almost had a veil disaster when she got too close the the candles. We sat at the head table in front with the bride and groom (because we're special). Again, this was the most formal and elegant thing I'd ever been to. When dinner was served, waiters streamed out from black curtains at the front of the room and lined behind our chairs. At a signal, they served our plates with a flourish and streamed back into the kitchen to do the same thing for the other tables.

I tried not to knock anything over.


Then the evening was a whirlwind of dancing, toasts and laughter and conversation. The cutest thing were all the little girls at the wedding. They spent the night running around the dance floor. When the bride danced with her husband for the first time, they lined up at the edge of the floor and reached out with their fingers to feel her dress as she twirled by. They spent the rest of the night racing around the tile floor and tangoing with each other.

Ben said I couldn't go out there.

So this was, in fact, a wedding I didn't despise. It was elegant, the families were gracious and it was a lovely weekend away. In fact, we had a wonderful time.

Brides, need anyone to help with your wedding? I'm available.




You should probably re-think that. Ribs, anyone?

Miss Pickles knows when it's time to go

To see the previous tale, go here.

"What way?" Miss Pickles asked, looking at the Firefly she called Smoky.

The Firefly's chocolate lips curved in a grin. Ralph moaned as she flicked chocolate out from under her fingernails.

"My pies..." he moaned. "My precious pies..."

"Shhh," Mason hissed, stepping closer to listen. He was fascinated by this flame-haired pixie. He was even more fascinated about how she would get them out of the glass castle they stood in.

"The thing is," the Firefly said, fixing her stare on Miss Pickles, "We have other ways of going to the surface other than volcanoes."

"The children don't do well in fire," Miss Pickles reminded her. "It's a little too hot for them."

"I'm afraid a human can only tolerate a small variation of temperature difference," Beatrice squeaked, blushing when the Firefly Queen swiveled her gaze on her. "And I'm afraid this is about as hot as we can tolerate."

The other children nodded. Sweat poured down their faces and their clothes stuck the their bodies. Several of them coughed as the fires sputtered around them, shooting smoke int he air. Perspiration beaded on Jasper's mottled face, sizzling as it dripped close to the laser in his forehead.

The Firefly pursed her lips and tapped her chin. "I knew that," she muttered. She bit her lip and flicked more chocolate from her fingernails. Ralph's lip trembled and his belly rumbled. Mason gazed around the glass castle, peering at the Fireflies staring down at them. They perched on glass balconies and delicate swings dangling from the ceiling. Glass curled into the air, glowing faint orange from the fire around them. A firefly kicked something into the fire, and smoke ballooned around the fire. He watched as the grey wisps floated up, curls of black and grey winding around the Fireflies. Suddenly, he gasped.

"That's it!" he cried. Every head in the room snapped to look at him.

"What's it?" the Queen Firefly said.

"Well, I know how we can get out of here," Mason said in a small voice. "I mean, I've got an idea."

"No you don't!" Beatrice cried. "It is physically impossible to get out of here! We're probably hundreds of miles beneath the surface. There's lava five feet away, for crying out loud. We would need an industrial size drill to get to the surface. Unless you have a drill in your pocket, I think you're blowing smoke up our skirts."

"I don't have a skirt," Don said, glaring at her. "So I want to hear his idea."

"Duckie, this is exciting!" Miss Pickles cried, shooting her arms in the air and twirling. "Let's hear your idea!"

"Yes," the Queen Firefly proclaimed. "Let's hear this idea."

Mason gulped. He had never liked public speaking. He lowered his eyes so he wouldn't see the eyes looking back at him. Sweat trickled down his back. It wasn't from the fire.

"Well," he said, forcing himself to look at the Queen. "My idea is smoke. And light."

The Queen blinked. "I don't get it."

"Well, I was thinking about how smoke floats to the sky," Mason said. "And the thing we have plenty of down here is smoke and fire. And Jasper has a laser in his forehead that can melt rock. So if we can raise him to the sky in sort of a smoke filled hot air balloon, he can dig us out to the surface."

"That makes no sense!" Beatrice argued. "The smoke and heat would kill us. And Jasper can't dig through that much rock. It would take him a year."

Jasper bit his lip grimly. "I hate to admit it Mason, but she may be right," he said. He looked down at his clawed hands. "I'm built for endurance, not speed."

"But what if you had help?" Mason asked, his eyes blazing with excitement. "What if you had a laser bigger than anything you had dreamed?" Not waiting for an answer, he turned to the Firefly Queen. "Your--uhh--Blaze, your people are wonderful at making glass. A laser is simply light so focused it creates heat. You could create a glass so fine that when light was shined through, it created a laser. Like a prism, almost."

The Queen chewed on her lip.

"And then," Mason continued, warming to his idea. "If the smoke is too high, we could ride to the surface in a glass ball. You could put us over a hot vent in the ground, and we could blast up like a ball in a pinball machine."

"What's a pinball machine?" Ralph asked. Don shrugged.

Miss Pickles looked at the Firefly Queen. Jasper looked at Miss Pickles. The Fireflies looked at the children. The children looked at each other. Beatrice stomped her foot and glared at Mason.

"This is stupid!" she shouted. "This doesn't make sense at all. It's scientifically impossible. The glass will burn us or melt, dropping us into the lava below. And lasers are incredibly hard to create. A glass prism can't produce light intense enough"--

"I love it," the Firefly interrupted. "Let's do it. Fireflies," she cried. "Get to work! Do whatever the boy says!" She pointed a red fingernail towards Mason. He grinned when he heard Beatrice scream in frustration.

"Miss Pickles, what time is it?" Ralph asked, interrupting her as she started towards Mason.

"Almost two, duckie," she said. "Why?"

Ralph licked his lips and looked up. "If we hurry," he said, "We can be back for snack time."


To be continued......

*I'm back, Invisible Friends! And I have lots of fun things for you! We have a new dance hall dreamers, another scary story and a tasty recipe for veggie beef soup and homemade wheat dinner rolls coming up. Plus, pictures and stories from my weekend at the wedding! Stay tuned!

Seven things about Dance Hall Dreamers

ArtsiAnne tagged me a few days ago. The rules are:

1. Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog - some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving links to their blog.
4. Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.


Well, it's Saturday and I'm at a wedding in a little bitty Texas town, and I feel like rebelling a bit. So the first seven people that read this--you're it! Ha!

Rather than give you seven things about me, I'll give you seven things about Vivi and Wade, our favorite dancehall dreamers, instead.

1) The story of Vivi and Wade was originally written because my husband was taking me to a dance hall that night. I hadn't been in a dance hall in awhile and was twirling down the sidewalks at work. The story you see is a result of that anticipation and excitement. I never dreamed ya'll would want another one!

2) As Cowboy's Wife asked once, yes, I took ballet until I was 18. That's probably why Vivi is a ballerina. Though I never went on toe, because my Mom didn't want me to ruin my feet. And I'm glad.

3) Wade is kind of based on my Dad, who was a cowboy. I grew up hearing stories about his ranch and the people that worked them, and that's where he came from.

4) In Texas, you can dance in dance halls no matter how old you are. I did it all the time in high school. That's how Vivi can go dancing, even though there is a bar in the dance hall.

5) Teaser: In the next story, Vivi will learn something about Wade she never dreamed of through his best friend. It almost gets her in trouble.

6) Vivi's father is bent on making her a world-famous ballerina because her mother failed, and it's made him extremely bitter and angry.

7) I'm going to turn the story into a book.

The next installment will be next Tuesday! I'll see you then!

Midnight at the Diner

She should have never been at the diner after midnight.

It was her first week, and she didn’t know any better. After the Halloween party had ended and all the staff had packed up their plastic pumpkin buckets and untied their aprons, the manager had looked at her.

“Abby, are you sure you’re ok?” he asked, his forehead creased in a million wrinkles like the wrapper of a butter stick. “I mean, I don’t want you to stay here alone. You’re new and I never let new people close…”

“But I’m not really closing,” Abby replied brightly. “You’ve cashed out the registers and have the deposit with you. All I’m going to do is turn off the lights and shut the door.”

“But you’re sure your boyfriend is coming, right?” the manager asked, biting his lip. He had only known Abby a week, but he liked her a lot. She reminded him of his youngest daughter, full of the same energy and spunk. Turning around, he glanced out the windows. “This isn’t exactly the best neighborhood,” he continued, watching worriedly out the thick glass. “And it’s Halloween. I don’t want some punk kids messing with you.”

Abby’s phone rang and she began to dig in her purse. “I’ll be fine,” she reassured her boss as lipstick and mascara wands flew in the air around her. “I’m sure that’s him now.”

The boss tapped the money bag on his leg. “Promise to call me if he’s not here in fifteen minutes?” he asked. “I’m going to run this to the bank. I can easily come back and take you home. Do you know my cell phone?” Without letting her answer, he pulled a pen out of his shirt and jotted it on a napkin. “Don’t be afraid to call me, ok?” he said, shoving the napkin towards her.

Abby smiled as she continued to burrow through her purse. The ringing stopped. “Drat,” she commented. Flipping up her fine blond hair, she gave her boss a bemused glance. “Joe, don’t worry,” she said. “I promise, I’ll be fine. I’ll probably cut myself a piece of this pumpkin pie right here.” She pointed to the half-eaten pie under the glass cover on the counter.

When Joe didn’t say anything, she felt an uneasy clench in her stomach. Even after a week, she knew he often teased the employees about eating the pie. “Save it for the customers!” he had joked the first time she cut herself a slice of the pecan pie on her break.

“I promise, I’ll be fine,” she repeated, untying her apron. She’d find her phone after he left. She glanced at her watch. “It’s 11:30 now. You better go.”

Joe checked the clock and sighed. “I’ll be back if you need me,” he promised as he slid out the front door. “Call me if anything strange happens.” The door shut with a merry jingle and the restaurant went quiet. Abby exhaled and shook her hair so it fell around her shoulders. Plopping down at the counter, she pulled off the metal cover and cut herself a piece of pie. She pulled out a to-go box from under the counter and plopped the pie in the center. Ripping a plastic package of silverware open, she shook out a fork. Sliding it through the creamy pumpkin goodness, she took a bite and smiled with pleasure.

Then she heard a slight metallic click.


Blinking, she waited for a moment. The air was silent save her own breathing. Shrugging, she took another bite.

This time, she heard a slight thump, like a hard shoe on a rubber floor. She whirled around, hoping the kitchen staff wasn’t playing a joke.

“Hello?” she called. She glanced to her left, than her right. The booths were empty. The tables were clear. There was no one there.

Grabbing her purse, she dug out her cell phone. Punching the buttons, she propped it next to her ear while she took another bite. The dial rang shrilly as she waited.

“Hello, this is George,” her boyfriend’s voice rang in her ear. “Sorry I missed you. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“Hmmm.” Abby bit her lip and looked at her missed calls. The number was unavailable. She felt an uneasy feeling snake down her spine. She shoved another bite of pie in her mouth and hunched over the take-out container, her eyes daring around. As she chewed, she felt goosebumps pop out all over her legs and arms. The air seemed suddenly cold.

“It’s just because I quit running around,” Abby muttered to herself. “The absence of body heat is making it cold in here.”

She still looked at the clock. 11:53. George should have been here twenty minutes ago. She picked up her cell phone and dialed him again. When the answering machine picked up, she said, “George, where are you? I really need you to get here. I’m kinda freaking out. Hurry.” Hanging up, she shoved her phone in her pocket. She stared at the napkin with her boss’s number in front of her. Stabbing at the pie, she took another bite. She couldn’t call her boss. She wouldn’t call him. She had just been watching too many movies.

She looked at the clock. 11:59.

Sighing, she lifted up the napkin. Sliding her cell phone out of her pocket, she pushed the first number.

The lights went off. The jukebox flipped on.

It was midnight.


*I'm off to a wedding, Invisible Friends, so it may be a few days until I can visit your blogs. Until then, hope this spooky tale and tomorrow's 7 things about Vivi and Wade will tide you over!

Southwest frenzy: Texas chili and empanadas

I've told ya'll I'm not a creative cook.




I've told ya'll I'm wonderful at following recipes. Putting my own twist on them? Well, let's just say there's two dishes that will be featured here today. Out of those two, one was a product of my own culinary creativity. And it was nowhere near as tasty as the winner: Texas Chili.

That's right--it's STEAMING!

I'll give you one guess who cooked this.

Don't you love the artful display of the crackers? Ya'll are making me fancy!

That's right. My darling husband whipped up this chili last weekend. And let me tell you, it was good. But it was hot. So hot I had to break out the milk and dump half a bag of cheese in there. Not that I mind cheese. Actually, I love cheese. Excuse me. I'm drooling again.





While this may look like a bunch of spicy meat to you, it's not. It's chili. "Real" chili, according many Texans, is pure meat and spices. No beans. No veggies. Nothing but meat and enough spice to make you cry.

Well don't tell my Daddy, but I make a chili with beans. I like it. Fiber is good.



This recipe is about as simple as it gets. Dump this in with two pounds of ground beef, brown and simmer for about an hour. You can do it for thirty minutes, but we use such lean beef we have to let things cook a little longer. Only put about half the red pepper in there. It made Ben sweat. He eats jalapenos for breakfast.

Now we come to the disaster portion of today's post: my chicken empanadas.


Being the brilliant wanna-be cook I am, I thought I'd take the pastry recipe from Ben's
Meat pies and stuff them with shredded chicken, cheese and refried beans. I'd spice them up with enchilada sauce and spices, throw them in the frying pan and have a meal that would send Ben to his knees in gratitude.


Well.


I don't know if I told you this, but I have a very active imagination.

Being the extremely brilliant duck that I am, I decided to do this on Monday night after work and having a million errands. Ben wasn't coming home until after 8, so I had plenty of time, I reasoned.

Well.



When you add a tired Blond Duck preparing for going out of town to baking banana nut bread for her mother for watching her antisocial chihuahuas to trying to be culinary creative, you get a disaster.

I forgot all spices and enchilada sauce in the beans.


I realized this after I was making the pies.




After all these were done and I'd burned the banana nut bread.



Still, I soldiered on and chunked them in the frying pan. Heck, how can anything beany, cheesy and fried be bad?

Well, I forgot to fry the edges. They were raw. I had to go back and re-fry them.


Personally, I liked my little empanadas. But they were too bland for Ben. He went back for more chili from the freezer, remarking that perhaps we should cook soups over the weekend and freeze them to heat up during the week.

Several of you also suggested that I bake all sorts of goodies and stick them in the freezer for the holidays. But unfortunately, there's a tiny problem.


I like freezing things.


In fact, I've frozen myself out of the freezer with a huge batch of empanadas no one will eat but me. I just finished off the burritos I made two months ago that he turned his nose up at because they weren't "spicy" enough.

So the moral of our story today, Invisible Friends?

1) The Blond Duck is sticking to cookbooks.
2) Anyone have an extra freezer?
3) Want a "mild" empanada?


Stay tuned tomorrow for a spooky Halloween story! And on Saturday, we'll have a seven things meme about Vivi and Wade, then Miss Pickles on Monday! Come check them out!

While the cat is away, the mice will play.

Dear Blond Duck's Mom (or Debbie),



HELLOOOOO!!!


We have all sorts of plans for you. Oh yes. All sorts of plans.


You see, Invisible Friends, the Blond Duck and Ben are going to a wedding Friday. They won't be back until late Saturday night--real late. Past our bedtime. Way past the Blond Duck's bedtime. In fact, she'll probably be carried in drooling everywhere and we can--wait a minute. That's another story.



In the meantime, we have our favorite servant--er, friend over to keep us company. The Blond Duck's mom, otherwise known as Debbie.

And we have plans for you. Lots of plans.


Scared yet?




First, we'll gnaw on some chew sticks.



Then we'll take a nap.




Then we'll have some dinner.


Then we'll take a nap.



Then we'll eat the Blond Duck's underwear. It's really tasty.



Bear will play with his dolphin.




Bitty will stare at you and let you know where your place is in life.




We'll take another nap.





Bear will play with his dolphin again.




Bitty will plot to take over the world.






And if you're lucky, really lucky, we might snuggle with you.



I'll snuggle with you any time.





I won't.



Just remember who's boss around here.


Sincerely,



Bitty and Bear




P.S. We're looking forward to it.

Confessions of a Lonley Baker

Dear Invisible Friends, I have a terrible confession to make.



I love to bake.


Hold on, that's not my confession.


I love to bake, but I have no one to feed.


Yes, it's true. My tongue tingles at all the delicious creations I want to whip up. My fingers twitch and my feet slide into the kitchen. But my mind says, no, no, for who would eat it?

Ben's on a diet.

My mother is on a diet.

My sister is on a diet.

My father's not a diet, but he only eats certain sweets and won't admit to liking those.

My friend Libby, as you all know, is on a diet.

All my other girlfriends are on a diet.


My co-workers will eat anything, but like Grace, I don't feel they are very appreciative. I made these peanut butter cookies for a party we had Friday. It didn't kill my craving to bake.

I have no children to feed, no neighbors that I like enough to supply with a year's worth of treats.

Sigh.

And there's so much I want to make:

• Prudy's Miniature apple turnovers
• Marie's Good as Apple Pie Dessert
• Amanda's Peanut butter and chocolate blondies ( I would use white chocolate. Slurp. Drool. Sigh.)
  
• Bunny's Apple Bread Pudding
• Grace's Peanut butter bars
• This fabulous pie at http://doughmesticgoddess.blogspot.com/

And there's more. Oh there's so much more. There's the spritz cookies I want to make, the Halloween goodies I've been bookmarking (most from the Noble Pig ) and the pumpkin/ gingerbread/ cream cheese trifle I saw in that cooking magazine. There's all the luscious breads and pastries and cookies and pies....



I could even handle making banana nut bread.


I wouldn't complain at all about making oatmeal scotchies.


But I have no one to eat them.

I'm sure I feel this way because it's fall and the holidays are coming up. Everywhere I look are delicious recipes with pumpkin and apple and cinnamon and sugar and cream cheese and gingerbread...

But I'll have to drool from afar. Because I have no one to feed.



Perhaps I spoke too soon.


Excuse me. I have a new plan.

When the music fades

The winner of last week's Wonderful Event, Marjie , requested another installment of everyone's favorite dance hall dreamers, Vivi and Wade. Marji, this is for you. Congratulations, and I hope it lives up to your expectations!

As for the rest of my Invisible Friends, we got lots of good things this week! There will be tasty chicken empanadas, a startling confession only the Blond Duck could make and a new edition of Miss Pickles! Also, read my post from yesterday to meet my alter ego....the Duck in Black!

For the previous dancing post, go here.

And now, for Vivi and Wade.....

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With a set to his jaw and a squint of his eyes, Wade jammed his straw cowboy hat on his head and began to stride towards the parking lot.

"No, Wade!" Vivi hissed, grabbing his elbow. "What are you doing?"

He wrinkled his brow. "Well, I'm going to go talk to him."

Vivi turned pale and shook her head so hard that her frizzy curls beat against her forehead. "Oh no, no, no," she whispered, gripping his elbow so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Oh, please, no."

Wade's eyes flashed and he stepped forward. "Vivi," he said in a low voice, "I need to know. Does your daddy--well, is he....what would he do to you exactly?"

Vivi bit her lip and shook her head. "No, he doesn't hit me," she whispered. "It's not like that...it's just...."

"Darling, don't be worried," Wade assured her. "Listen, we ain't done nothing wrong. I'm just going to introduce myself, apologize for keeping you out and reassure him it won't happen again next time."

Vivi felt her insides flutter and her cheeks warm. "Next time?" she whispered, unable to stop the shy smile that spread over her face.

Wade blushed and looked down, scuffing his boots against the rocks. He hooked his thumb through the worn belt loop of his faded blue jeans. "Well, if you want to," he murmured. "I mean, I'm sure you have a boyfriend or something. I just, well, since you like dancing and all, I thought maybe I could teach you to two step."

Vivi beamed, stepping closer to him. His blue eyes stared down at her. It was all she could do to keep the hysterical giggles from bubbling out of her throat.

"I'd like that," she whispered. "And I don't have a boyfriend."

"Just a daddy," Wade said, his confident grin back. "Speaking of Daddy"-- he glanced in the parking lot. "It seems as if Daddy is gone."

Vivi exhaled and felt her shoulders relax. "Thank God," she muttered.

"Now, darling, if we're going to--I mean, if I'm going to teach you to dance," Wade corrected himself, his cheeks flashing pink, "Then I want to meet your folks. I want them to know I've got good intentions and I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. I don't want you to sneak around just to dance."

Vivi steadied herself on the wall. Did they make guys like this anymore? He was so sweet, nice and polite--and he liked her. He wanted to dance with her. She didn't want to think about her dad. She didn't want to think about ballet or the upcoming competition. All she wanted to do was think about him twirling her across the dance floor.

"The thing is, it wouldn't do any good," she told Wade truthfully. "My dad would be furious if he knew. He's had my future mapped out since my mother was pregnant. This isn't in his plans."

"What if you just talked to him?" Wade pressed. Vivi shook her head, and he nodded. He wouldn't press it--for now.

"Let me walk you to your car," he said, threading her arm through his. She couldn't stop the joyful shivers that shimmered down her spine or the smile that spread over his face. They walked across the dark parking lot, weaving through cars and stepping over broken bottles and cigarette stubs. Eventually, they made it to Vivi's beat-up white car. She unlocked it and Wade pulled the door open for her.

"Thanks," she said, stepping inside the car. She set her bag on the passenger side and looked up at him uncertainly. She had no idea whether to sit or keep standing. What if he was going to kiss her? What if he wasn't? No one had ever treated her like this before.

"When do you want your first lesson?" His face was shadowed from the parking light overhead. All she could see was the glimmer of his bright blue eyes.

"My next class is Thursday," Vivi said, peering at his eyes. "That's in two days. Is that too soon for you?"

Wade shook his head. "I'll be here." He took her hand and pulled her towards him. Vivi's breath caught in her throat and her heart stopped in anticipation. He was going to kiss her. She was so scared, but so excited. It felt like her emotions were zinging through her veins in a frenzy. She closed her eyes and lifted her head, feeling as if she was going to scream with waiting.

Instead, she felt herself twirling. She opened her eyes to see the parking lot whipping around her as she twirled on the asphalt. Dizzy, she plopped down in her seat with her keys in one hand. Wade grinned at her confusion.

"See you then, darling," he said. He shut her car door and strode across the parking lot. Shaking herself, Vivi turned her key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. In her review mirror, she saw him waving from the sidewalk. It wasn't until she was at the stoplight that he faded out of sight.

It wasn't until she pulled into her driveway that she realized she couldn't wait until Thursday. There was something she had to know.