Puppy Love

 Growing up I had pets, sort of.  I had a gerbil named Lucy, a hamster named Ruffles, a chameleon named... uhh I can't remember, and a hermit crab or two.  While these critters provided me with hours of entertainment and an early introduction to lessons in responsibility, they didn't always return the love for me that I had for them.  Let's face it, you can't exactly snuggle with a tiny lizard.  Finally when my brother left for college I convinced my parents to get a cat, Bailey, and then another one, Jack. Both Bailey and Jack were rescue kitties and I loved their sweet meows and loud purrs. (And so did my parents despite their somewhat resistant attitudes towards my begging for a cat.  My dad even had a special way he called for Jack when he was hiding.  Picture a grown man cupping his hands around his mouth and loudly yelling "Where's Jack?!?!?!" with a scooping inflection on the "where's" and a punctuated accent on the "Jack."  My Dad is really a nice normal man, I promise.)

People always seem to be categorized into two types:  "Cat People", and "Dog People", and those who feel a strong affinity towards one or the other seem to spend time defending their decision to prefer the feline over the canine or vice versa.  Until recently, if forced to be identified as a cat or dog person, I most likely would have chosen the former.  This stems primarily from my inexperience with dogs and the fact that, for the most part, dogs never really seemed to show much more than "toleration" for me in terms of affection.  I've never been very good at pursuing ventures where I didn't show immediate promise.  If I had been an instant dog whisperer, and dogs from all walks of life had flocked to me only to be hypnotized by my gentle gaze, I may have chosen to call myself a "Dog person." 

When I met my husband I knew he was definitely a dog lover, and unlike me, furry friends always seemed to be drawn to him, and he always seemed to have an instant good rapport and relationship with them as well.  "Hey Buddy" from Paul's mouth caused a dog's tail to wag wildly, whereas the same dog would likely blankly stare at me. Ok, some of this is in my head, I've drawn out a few tail wags in my day, but you get my point.

About two months ago I was perusing Facebook when this picture popped up in my news feed.  It had been posted by a local organization called Hope for Paws that helps to care for and place rescue dogs with families.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that literally this little dog's face spoke to me, and told me that she needed me.  I know, you are rolling your eyes, but I'm honestly not kidding.  Paul and I decided to test the waters and agreed to "foster" her for an undetermined amount of time.  About, oh, two hours after having her in our home, we knew we had found ourselves a permanent mutt and addition to our family, Maggie.  We don't really know much about her back story, and being a rescue, she obviously has a long way to go to feel completely comfortable around people, but I'm so happy that this little dog came into our lives...

... and all of a sudden I found myself doing things that used to completely puzzle me.

THE DOG VOICE:  I could never quite get a handle on why dog owners' voices would change into a high pitched pile of mush when they spoke to their pets.  I made fun of my college roommate for this, because her voice would get so high pitched when she saw her family beagles that her words became unrecognizable.  Now I get it.  There is no logical explanation, but when a dog looks you in the eyes and wags it's tail, all of a sudden we begin to speak in a tone that we believe to be endearing to them.  Yes, it's bizarre, and yes, I now have a dog voice.

THE NICKNAME:  I had always noticed that dog (and cat too) owners had multiple names they frequently used for their dogs.  Though sometimes these nicknames are shorter versions of the dog's given name (ex: Mr. Elvis = Mr,  Oscar = Osc,  and Andy Warhol = AndyDoodle), but sometimes these names have no relation to the actual names of the dogs or cats (ei. Gabby = Skeebers)  A couple of weeks ago I looked at Maggie (who we do sometimes call "Mags" or "Maggins") and said "Hey Schnoobins!" What?  Schnoobins?  What is that?  And who have I become?  

PHOTOS OPS: Everyone I know with pets takes pictures of them whenever they are doing anything new or cute.  These photos then get posted to facebook, emailed or texted to friends and family.  While I never objected to this, I sometimes thought it was a little excessive.  Now you should see my photo collection on my phone.  Its 90% pictures of Maggie doing things that are new or cute.  I can't help myself.  Paul and I are always trying to snag the cuter photo of ourselves with our pup. 

 

I don't want to make this blog all about apologies, but I do think it is about realizations and newly found acceptance.  So to all you dog lovers out there, I finally understand.  When I come home from a long day of teaching, she is there wagging her tail and ready to play.  I love watching Paul and Maggie run in circles around the house like kids, and I enjoy getting text messages about what a good walk he and Maggie had that afternoon.  Dog person, cat person, (or even hermit crab person I suppose), its the little things.

Trucks

I used to be a hater of trucks.  I would see a big gas-guzzler on the road with its oversized tires and ridiculous giant toolbox full of lord-knows-what in the back, and think "Why on earth would anyone ever want to drive that around?" or "What a waste of resources.... it can't even fit more than 2 people in it!"

And then I met my husband.

He drove a truck.

Paul +

=

         

I was torn.  How could this smart, handsome, well educated man drive such a vehicle?  Surely he had his reasons.  I soon learned that this truck was going nowhere.  It was here to stay.  I had to learn to love it, or at least deal with it as an appendage of Paul's.  Over the next few years of our relationship I learned to tolerate the truck.  It was not the most comfortable of vehicles in which to travel, and if we had more than two people someone had to sit in the extended cab with the little seat flipped down sideways.  Not an ideal way to travel very far.  But despite my distaste for Paul's truck, it did get him from place to place and came in handy at a few tailgating events.  I still preferred my little Corolla that got twice the gas mileage.

Four years ago Paul moved to Louisiana.  I visited often and thought of it as my second home.  The truck successfully moved Paul and all his belongings (and towed a small trailer with some extras) all the way to from OH to LA.  I was unable to help with this move because I was being trained by the US Army, so I was thankful that he had a reasonable way to get himself all the way down South.  The truck's worth increased slightly in my eyes.

I soon came to realize that if you lived in a small town in Louisiana and you DIDN'T have a truck, you were in the minority.  If you drove a four-door compact car from Japan, you didn't fit in.  I've never liked being an outsider.  The truck began to seem a little more hip.  I began to toss aside the fact that it cost twice as much to fill up the gas tank as it did to fill up my car.  It didn't matter, the only driving you really had to do here is all within a 5 mile radius!

Since becoming a permanent resident of Natchitoches I have noticed more trucks than ever before. This is the scene in the parking lot at a restaurant where we ate a couple weeks ago. No joke.

I have started realizing that what I used to think of as a negative situation has turned into a positive.  Our (I used to call it "Paul's" but now that I like it I'll take partial ownership) truck comes in handy all the time!!!  Throwing this and that in the truck bed to take it across town can be a real time saver.  Our friends ask to borrow the truck to move a piece of furniture or move lumber for a house project.

Not only have I found it functionally useful during my trips to the hardware store, but when I drive the truck I feel like people look at me and might actually think I'm from here! (Note my previously mentioned need to fit in.)

Now when we talk about vehicles we might have in the future, a truck is still in the running.  I'm all in... let's get a giant truck.  Then we can have a full seat in the back and sit up even higher on the road.... we could look down at all the little people and call it our Ford Throne!

Trucks are a Southern way of life.  We can't always explain the reasons why, but we can learn to appreciate them.  I'm sorry I used to hate the truck, Paul.

Experiments in Cajun Cuisine

I am not a picky eater.  I don't like olives (I do still TRY to like them on occasion, and I know you are thinking I should try the "good" ones... and I have, but I just can't eat them.  I think they taste like dirty feet.... or what dirty feet would taste like if I ever tasted them).  Paul, my husband, does not like raw carrots.  He also does not like olives.  We believe our shared hatred of olives is the glue that binds our marriage.  Besides these small olive and carrot hinderances, our palates are pretty wide open.

Back to the point....

There is so much interesting food in Louisiana.  I can't even skim the surface of explaining the fundamentals of Cajun cooking, as I only began to learn about it 4 years ago.  Even then I only was able to eat these cajun meals every few months when I visited Natchitoches.   I have always loved trying new foods, and I hope in the next few months and years to be able to better my skills when creating some of these dishes.  I LOVE eating them, which is good, because if I didn't my dining options may be a little limited.  (Ok ok this is an exaggeration... there are plenty of other things to eat here.  I don't eat Red Beans and Rice every day.... though I think I probably could!)

This week we tried our hand (and by "we" I really mean Paul... I cut up vegetables and handed him things upon request as he cooked) at Gumbo, which can really have just about anything in it, and literally has thousands of variations.  We chose to do something fairly traditional and used sausage, chicken and crawfish.

The sausage was not Andouille sausage, which would have been slightly more authentic, but this Cooks Thesaurus says that Keilbasa is an appropriate substitute, so we were on the right track!  The crawfish were hand-shelled by yours truly about a year ago at a crawfish boil we attended with friends, and had been kept frozen.  I was a little skeptical whether or not the Mudbugs (Crawfish slang for you folks up north... hence the title of this Blog!) would still be fresh, but they tasted great.

Some other other things that really make a Gumbo a Gumbo are a Roux and the "Holy Trinity" of vegetables, which includes celery, green pepper and onion.  I love this reference.

Roux???  Yes I had absolutely no idea what this was until Paul moved to Louisiana a few years back.  Foods I grew up eating didn't use a "Roo."  (Love you mom, but let's be real, you weren't a French or Cajun cook!) I have since learned that this mixture of fat and flour (Paul used Oil) is really what gives many Cajun dishes their thickness... and charm.  Making a homemade Roux can be tedious but the product provides the Gumbo with the right color and texture.  Paul took his time stirring and it worked perfectly.

Put it all together, let it simma, serve over rice ... and Voila!!!!

It was delicious.  Really.  If I was on my own cooking show right now I would take a bite (being careful to skim the spoon with my teeth only, so as not to mess up my lipstick), close my eyes, say "mmmmmm" and congratulate myself on making the most delicious meal ever known to man.




So while the Gumbo was primarly Paul's magic work, the dessert was mine!

I chose to make Cuppa Cuppa Cake.  Yes... the one mentioned by Dolly Parton in Steel Magnolias.

There will be a lot of Steel Magnolias references in this blog... as the Movie was filmed in Natchitoches.... but that's a whole different post.

A couple weeks ago my friend Stacey sent me a link to a Cuppa Cuppa Cake Recipe.  It seemed so simple that there was no way it could work, but I gave it a go.



1 Cup flour (I added 1 1/2 tsps of Baking Powder and 1/2 tsp Salt to my all-purpose flour so that it would rise a little)

1 Cup Sugar

1 Can of fruit cocktail

Mix and bake for 45 mins at 350.

I served it with whipped cream and fresh fruit.  Tasty and easy!!!!  I am not really much of a baker and I could do it!

               The tasters approved......









While the Cajun Cuisine was extremely tasty and I hope to learn more about it as I live in LA, I'm not going to lie, the biggest highlight of my week was a couple of days later when I discovered this morsel of culinary excellence at a Kroger (yes there are some Kroger grocery stores down south!) in Alexandria, Louisiana.  It does take me an hour to get there, but trust me, its comforting to know this is there when I need it.



Drumroll please................

      What can I say... I'm an Ohio girl at heart :-)

The long drive down South

I've had intentions of starting this blog for some time now.  My first post was going to be written during the long drive from Washington, DC to Natchitoches, LA.  This didn't happen.  In fact I've been living in Louisiana for almost 3 weeks now and I am just now beginning to write.  I think you'll enjoy this post more than the one I would have written during that first long day of driving.

That day was a flurry of emotion.... ask my husband.  Tears. Excitement. A few more tears.  I was excited to begin a new journey together with Paul, but sad to be leaving my friends, job, and the life I knew in DC.  For those of you who don't know, I have spent the last four years as a member of the US Army Field Band in the Baltimore/Washington area, and my husband has been teaching at Northwestern State University in Louisiana.  We have been living an unconventional life, but making it work.  We have finally decided to pull the plug and live in the same place... in this small Louisiana town.

What I would have written on June 29th would have been about my experiences with my friends in DC and my expectations of what was to come in LA.  While this is certainly not a negative approach, the past few weeks have already given me time to reflect.  Today I decided to begin this blog and dedicate it to my two families (and I don't mean to anyone I'm actually related... though I love you all too.)

First I owe so much to my family of friends in the band and in DC, as they have gotten me through many travels and lonely times away from my husband.  I miss you all everyday.

I am also indebted to my family of friends here in Louisiana, as they will help teach me the ropes and have already done so much to help me adjust to Southern life.  (If you are not pictured here, don't fret, there will be many more posts to come... I have yet to build my collection of Southern photos)

 This guy will certainly have an influence!

Because I live many miles from my Ohio roots, I have, and always will rely on these families of friends. Always.  This blog is aimed at entertaining the masses with stories of culture shock, realized by my midwestern self.  You may also, from time to time, get a musical, travel, or guest blogger post.  I had a long drive South to start racking my brain for things to write about, and as the scenery and climate changed and I got closer to my new home, I knew I would have no shortage of material.  So here we go....