Empty Chairs

Welp! It's here. Another holiday season, almost come and gone, and I must admit I have been seeing numerous posts and hearing the sadness of those who have lost loved ones over the years, and are preparing for another year of dealing with that "empty chair" at the table where we gather round and laugh, and enjoy good food, and the company of our family and friends.

For me personally, the "empty chair" represents my daddy. We lost him to gastrointestinal cancer fifteen years ago and not a holiday season goes by that I don't, at some point deal with the sting of tears in my eyes and the excruciating pain of loss that I feel when we all sit down at the table to eat, or when someone cracks a joke that I know he would have belly-laughed at. Probably the most painful part for me is when I take inventory of the room and look at my kids and the way our family has grown and know that they will never know him the way my mama and my brother knew him. The "empty chair" at the supper table is especially tough for me because that supper table is where some of my fondest memories of my family will always be. Oh the discussions and the laughter and the arguing we shared around that table over the years!

As painful as missing him is, I try to remind myself that the pain is only temporary and he's not completely gone from us. He still lives on through me, through my mama and my brother. We learned so much from him whether it be cooking, painting, fixing things around the house, dealing calmly with crisis and/or conflict, our love for humor and laughter, tapping our fingers on the steering-wheel along to the beat of the music on the radio or just simply, sitting still and doodling while watching television. There are and always will be pieces of him that live on through us.

I witnessed the fruition of his ongoing presence in our lives the day after Thanksgiving as I watched my brother, Pete and my son, Caleb stand in the backyard having a little target practice with their bows. I fought back the tears as I thought about all the years and milestones my daddy has missed with his children and his grandchildren. I thought about all the Thanksgivings that Pete spent in the woods with him at their beloved deer camp, hunting. How he must miss those times of learning and gleaning from Daddy. Then it dawned on me, Daddy's here. All the time he spent with us is not gone. It's not forgotten. There is so much evidence of him in our lives when I look around, and I can't help but think that from time to time God gives him just a little glimpse of us from heaven and allows him to see us carrying on without his physical presence but allowing him to live on through our personalities, our mannerisms, our sense of humor and our method to our everyday activities.

Just this passed Sunday, I also had another experience that made me realize our loved ones are still with us as we gathered for our annual Brown Family Christmas party. This party has become so bittersweet for me since we have lost four very vital members of our family over the last 16 years. Nanny Lucy, who played a very influential role in my childhood, teen and young adult years. Daddy, of course. Aunt Sissy, whose presence was as big and boisterous as the sun when she entered any room and Uncle Bill, with his laid back, quiet demeanor and ever-present grin on his face. I'll admit, for some reason I was dreading this years' gathering. Just the thought of another year, glancing around the room seeing the "empty chairs" and missing these loved ones who always brought so much joy and laughter to the party, made me sad to the nth degree. Nevertheless, I went.

About midways through the evening, again I just stepped back and took inventory of the room. Yes, it was obvious who was missing, who the "empty chairs" belonged to and yes, it hurt as it always does. The pain of losing someone who means so much never goes away. I suppose we just learn to deal with it a little better as time goes on. Then, I imagined it. I could see a small little part in the "clouds", if you will and I could see Nanny Lucy, Daddy, Aunty Sissy and Uncle Bill taking a peek down on us as we gathered once again to celebrate another Christmas. I could see Nanny taking inventory of her children, her grandchildren and great grandchildren and just the fact that we were going on without her and continuing a tradition that she started and looked forward to every year with her family. Oh how proud she would be of all the food and great cooks that our family has produced! I could see Daddy and Aunt Sissy and Uncle Bill also reveling in the laughter and chatter that was taking place and the silliness that always seems to prevail when the Brown girls get together. (we just can't seem to help ourselves). Then as I re-inventoried the room, I could see it! I could see a little bit of Nanny in her girls. I could see Daddy in his brother and sisters and Aunty Sissy in the laughter and silliness and Uncle Bill in the quiet moments and the smell of the coffee brewing. Coffee was a MUST for Uncle Bill. All I could manage was a smile, knowing they were still among us despite the looming presence of their "empty chairs."

It's painful, so by all means grieve - yes! But remember your loved ones and try and focus on all the ways that their presence remains in your life and is passed down through you and through your children. I constantly reassure myself that Daddy wouldn't won't me sad, he wouldn't want me depressed because he's not here to celebrate with us. No! He would want me to enjoy the holidays and take his presence with me into the holidays so that his grandchildren can know him through the things he taught me over the years.

Although I haven't and will not finish out this holiday season without shedding a few tears because I miss my my daddy and other loved ones so, I will remind myself that they may be gone physically but they will never, ever be forgotten. And I also believe they will always be present among us, even when the "empty chairs" seem to be screaming at us and reminding us of their absence. This year I encourage you, look! Look for your loved ones who have gone on....Look closely, you just might be surprised at how very present they really are among you!

In Memory of Dude Brown

May 9, 1951 - July 23, 2008

Cougars, Seacows, Senior Discounts, and Beef Stew 

Due to the content of this particular post, I feel I should warn you that if you are easily offended by “TMI”, you probably should not venture any further than this paragraph. I am and always will be a very transparent person, especially when I believe strongly about something I feel others can relate to. With that being said, I beg of you, if you do not have a good sense of humor, just don't go any further. And now that I have that out of the way, I shall continue on....

I've been divorced now for four years and I gotta tell ya, while being single has it's advantages it's also very tough in the dating world for a woman in her....well, let's just say I've turned 39 several times. So many times in fact, my own mother and children are starting to accept that I'm 39 and holding. All through my 20's and even 30's I was content being married and being a mom and well, being the age I really was. But since my divorce, something has happened. I'm not sure "mid-life crisis" would be an accurate explanation, as “crisis” is such a strong word. But there has definitely been a shift in my way of thinking.

I like men. I enjoy viewing men, especially attractive men. Sounds shallow I know but hey, I'm being honest here. I was reprimanded once by an older lady when I was married for commenting on how attractive a guy was. My response to her, "Good grief! I'm married, not DEAD for crying out loud!" And just recently, I was approached by a lesbian who, when I was quite upfront with her and let her know, “I'm straight”, was quick to inform me, “Well, I have found that people just really don't know if they're absolutely straight or not.” Uuuuhhhmmm...yeah, I'm absolutely, positively, 100% sure - I like men. No doubt about it.

Now, the statement "I like men." might have some of you thinking, "Oh she's such a slut." or "Oh my! What a harlot!" Just let me clear something up right here, right now. I may be a LOT of things but slut and harlot? Nope! It's been four and a half years since I've even been properly kissed by a man, much less jumped in the sack with one. Yes, it's been a while, and I'm okay with that. I'm also okay with you knowing that, "it's been awhile" just to prove that going without sex is not at all deadly

As far as a type, I don't really have one. I like men of all ages that are clean, smell good, funny, have impeccable taste in music and even though they may appear older, are very young at heart. Which brings me to, you guessed it, younger men. Younger men are a whole 'nother ballgame for me, personally. Yes, I admit I like younger men. And maybe this attraction to younger men is the cause of the struggle with my current 39 and holding status, or maybe it's that I am continually irked by the fact that it's all fine and dandy and acceptable for a woman to date a man 20 years her senior but when she even considers a relationship with a man 20 years her junior, she's frowned upon like someone who has just recently acquired a rare case of the bubonic plague. Whatever, the reason, I just tend to be drawn in that particular direction. But a "cougar"? Hmmmm....I used to think maybe? Possibly? I might could pull that off. I may have the appearance of an older woman but on the inside I'm still anywhere between 25 and 35 so I find it easier to relate to younger guys. I feel like I'm a sort of cool, hip chick most of the time. But a "cougar"?

So let's explore the definition of a cougar: According to urbandictionary.com, a cougar is, "An older woman who frequents clubs in order to score with a much younger man. The cougar can be anyone from an overly surgically altered victim, to an absolute sad and bloated old horn-meister, to a real hottie or milf. Cougars are gaining in popularity -- particularly the true hotties -- as young men find not only a sexual high, but many times a chick with her shit together."

I have to chuckle a little as I read that again. Okay, I'm older and I do go out occasionally but most definitely not frequently and not to clubs and certainly not to “score” with a younger man. I'm most definitely not surgically enhanced, nor am I a "horn-meister", need I say it again? Four years without, and I still have a pulse. I don't consider myself a "true hottie" or a "milf", mind-blowingly good at sex, and I'm sure sad to say that I most assuredly do not have all my "shit together."

Case in point, I enjoy the occasional night out at a bar where I can find a good band playing but I think that's different than a club where lots of twerking and grinding and gyrating ensues. And surgically enhanced? Yeah right? Just last week at a bar, a friend made the comment, "Hey, the lead singer of the band told me he'd give me five dollars off a t-shirt if I'd show him my boobs!" I immediately responded, without hesitation, "I'll show him mine! Right after I scoop 'em up off the floor upon swift removal of my bra!" (okay, they're not that bad but you get the general point) Don't get me wrong y'all, I commend you for going under the knife to "enhance" yourself if that's what you do. You go, girl! But me? I just don't deal with pain well enough to put myself through that to attract a man....of any age. 

After doing my research and taking a long, reflective look at myself. I've decided "Seacow" is probably a better word to accurately describe me. And I don't mean that in a degrading, self-loathing way. I'm just being real here, people. I mean come on now, what man in his 20's is gonna want an older woman with a c-section pouch and stretch marks that are visible every time she removes her clothes? Although, I don't like it, and it's not pleasant to look at, it does remind me daily of the two gorgeous, fantastic blessings I gave birth to that brings me more joy than a big 'ol fat pig rolling around in the mud could ever experience. Or what about the wrinkles that have become so defined around my eyes and my mouth? Oh my goodness, those are just proof of the years and years of laughter and good tans and good times I've experienced in my "39" years. And those dreaded bat wings or otherwise known as the muscles that used to sit ON TOP of my arms. And the floppy belly that I just cannot seem to get toned, that wiggles and jiggles every time I make the slightest movement. Hmmmm...hmmm...I'm sure those are things that every 20 something-year-old guy dreams of experiencing with a "cougar". Never mind the fact that on any given day, I can burp or fart any man under the bus and sometimes, not even on purpose. Just another couple of things that become increasingly difficult to control as one starts to get older. And those pesky hemorrhoids that emerge from time to time? I die of laughter each time I think of exposing a younger guy to THAT little uncomfortable "inconvenience" of life and getting older.

I've played the conversation over in my head a hundred times: I get the text (cause you know, that's how 20 something-year-olds communicate these days), "Hey babe let's hook-up later tonight" I cringe at the thought of my response being, "Dude, I'm sorry. Can't tonight." His reply, "Why not babe??? I want you to teach me some new things I need a mind blowing experience 2-NITE!!!" I hesitate but me being honest, as I am at times, I go ahead and just tell it like it is, "Well, you see my little cub. I've been constipated for days and had to take a laxative. After a massive bowel movement, I now have a small case of hemorrhoids. But if you can hold off a day or so, I promise...I WILL blow your eager little mind!!!....(insert various emoticons here and please try and get over the fact that there's no punctuation in the cub's text to me. They don't use punctuation in their texts) How's that for a mind-blowing experience and lesson learned....on so many different levels?

I have come to realize these are many reasons that I do not classify as a cougar. Not to mention that I could not deal with the mental anguish of constantly comparing myself to the wrinkle-free, perfectly toned, perky-breasted 20 and 30 year old women that exist in our world today. I am just not cut out for that kind of pressure. And what about when you're in the check out line with your "cub" and instead of the the cashier politely asking for your ID to purchase alcohol, she politely asks if you would like your "Senior Discount". Oh hell no! Now that's where I'm drawing the line. I can deal with the saggy boobs, the c-section scars and stretch marks, wrinkles, bat wings, floppy belly, the excess, sometimes uncontrollable gas and even the occasional hemorrhoid after a bout with constipation, but don't you DARE ask me if I would like to use my "senior discount.” That offends me more than ANY of the above mentioned complications that come with aging! 

This past year, I have been asked that question more times than I would like to admit and even GIVEN the discount several times without even being asked. Just as recently as last week, I went to my friendly neighborhood Kroger and after checking out just tucked my receipt away in the console of the car. A couple of days later, I pull out said receipt and looked it over to see if I needed to save it for anything and what to my wandering eyes did appear? The 17th unasked for senior discount I've gotten this year! I was P-I-S-S-E-D to say the least. I wanted to take it all back and demand that they charge me full price!!!! Okay so maybe that was a little extreme and maybe  it is a mid-life crisis, after all.

At any rate, I must say I am coming to grips with the fact that I am probably closer to seacow material than I am cougar material and I'm okay with that. I also understand that after revealing some very personal and sensitive information about myself, I may never have another date again and I suppose I'll just have to be okay with that. But I personally think I'm beautiful in my own unique way, imperfections and all, and if and when the right guy comes along, he'll find me and whether he be 20 something or closer to my own age (whatever that may be at the time), he'll love me....sagginess, floppiness, gassiness, pesky hemorrhoids and all!

I will, however always believe the words to the old Ronnie McDowell song, “Older women...are beautiful lovers...” We may not be as easy on the eyes as the younger women are but we will always have one thing that a younger woman will never have on us, and that's experience in how to treat our men right, regardless of their age!

Of course, with all this talk of meat (cougars and seacows) and trips to the grocery store, I'm hungry so I'd like to leave with you with another original recipe:

Slow Simmer Beef Stew

3 lbs. stew beef, cut in small chunks
½ tsp. salt
1 tsp. black pepper
4 tbsp. salted butter
32 oz. beef broth
1 large sweet onion, chopped
6 medium potatoes, diced
14 oz. can sliced carrots, (use fresh if you prefer)
6 oz. can tomato paste with basil, garlic and oregano
2 28 oz. cans crushed tomatoes
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp. dried thyme
Lots and lots of sweet time



Cover stew beef with broth completely. Add a little water if needed or a little extra broth. Just make sure the meat is covered well. Add the butter, salt and pepper. Simmer on med. to medium-low heat for about three hours or until meat is fork tender. Now please, I beg you. Do not get in a hurry during this process. Let the meat simmer as long as it takes to get it good and tender. Who wants chewy, tough meat in their stew? Not me, I tell ya!


Add onions and potatoes and let those simmer for another 30 to 45 minutes. This should be enough time to also get the potatoes nice and tender, depending on how big or small you dice the potatoes. If you're using fresh carrots, this would also be the time to add those to the mix. If not, add the carrots, last.


Next, add the tomatoes, canned carrots, paste, garlic and thyme. Now here's the secret. Let that stew simmer as long as possible. This is a dish I like to start very early in the day to make sure it has plenty of time to simmer and let all those delicious flavors come together. The longer you can let it simmer, the better it's gonna taste!



Note: You can also add different spices if ya like. My family is used to this particular recipe so I don't dare change it up. It works for us so you make it work for you and your own.

What am I doing here?

Goodness, I don't know. Maybe because I've been told one too many times, "You need a blog!", or "You should write a book!" Whatever the case, here I am entering into the world of blogging. I'm already confused and haven't even finished my first post yet. Sigh...I'm a fast learner though, especially when it's something I'm passionate about.

"So just what ARE you passionate about?" you ask. My kids, they are my life. My family, I cherish the moments I have with them. Keith Urban. I adore him. Food, I love it. Cooking, I enjoy it but loathe cleaning up and washing the dishes.  Music, I listen to it constantly. I sing a lot too, around the house. Although, I'm not quite "Idol material"...yet. Laughter and humor, I'm also passionate about. Like, to the point of inappropriate at times. I've gotten myself into a many a pickle over these two things. It's how I roll, but hey, I live by: "A cheerful disposition is good for your health; gloom and doom leave you bone-tired." That's biblical, ya know? Look it up! Proverbs 17:22

Yikes! That might lead you to believe that I'm here to minister to you or that I'm here to save your soul. Naaahhh, that's not my intention at all, only Jesus can do that! I am a Christian. I will, most assuredly quote the Bible from time to time but I'm also currently in a "faith crisis". Sounds serious, I know but it is what it is and I'm trying to actually view this part of my life as, "letting go and letting God", this could be a whole 'nother subject for a whole 'nother day! So please be patient with me and stay tuned.

If you haven't noticed by now, I'm also southern. Maybe you didn't notice since you're not actually "listening" to me talk. If I typed like I spoke you would take on an entirely new understanding of being "hooked on phonics" and would be more than convinced that I'm as southern as an ice cold glass of sweet tea....but I don't like sweet tea. Never have. Never will. Now grits? I love me some grits. With lots of butter, lots of sugar and lots of cheese!

You may have also noticed that I can be a bit scattered and wander off track easily. That's okay because I can usually come back around to what I was talking about and sometimes even be creative enough to tie it all in together. I have the "gift of gab", my friends can attest to this. Strangers? Strangers think I'm shy. Some probably even label me as being "stuck-up" but that's okay too because I know we all put our britches on one leg at a time so underneath it all we're really all the same. Besides the fact that I'm as far from being "stuck-up" as the Braves are from winning the World Series anytime soon. Yes, I went there!

What will you find on my blog? A little bit of this, a little bit of that and a little bit of everything. Remind you of a song? A song by, Keith Urban? Yeah well,  I will probably introduce you to lots of songs because I listen to music ALL the time! I love to tell stories. Especially funny ones and I also love to share recipes, especially good ones.

Speaking of, I found out today that a recipe I recently posted to a cookbook site won a Blue Ribbon. I was ecstatic! I felt like a giddy little girl on Christmas morning that had just received the one gift she had always asked for. I'm about to share that recipe with you....if I can figure out exactly how to do that. My brother, Pete (Petey, JP, Jody Pete, or Jody) was also excited because he thought I was going to get to go on a cooking show and of course, take him with me. Needless to say, he was a bit disappointed when he found out winning a Blue Ribbon meant just that - winning a Blue Ribbon. Although, I must admit the two of us would be super-awesome on a cooking show together. We have lots of fun, me and that brother of mine!

The recipe is simple really. I had been following a low-carb diet and got hungry and bored one day so I went to the kitchen, pulled out ingredients I had on-hand and wa-laa! Turkey, Spinach and Swiss Mini Quiche:

http://www.justapinch.com/recipes/breakfast/egg-breakfast/turkey-spinach-swiss-mini-quiche.html?p=1

Try it out! You won't be sorry. And while you're whipping it up, listen to a little Keith and laugh. Laugh a LOT. It's good for your soul, ya know? Until next time....