They’re Baaack or Why I Hate Planned Parenthood Part Four

After  a month of no Planned Parenthood (P.P.) adds on my blog site, once Judge Kavanaugh was confirmed, I thought the ads would not show up anymore. Oh me! They’re Baaack, just like bad horror flicks every October.

Now it’s the week of Thanksgiving and they’ve started showing up n theexileskitchen.com. Why, I wonder? Maybe the midterm runoff elections, where contested seats and governorships are up for grabs. And that’s just what P.P. does. They grab at women’s emotions, during their most vulnerable life decision and convinces them that what is inside of them doesn’t matter, it’s just a lump of tissue.

There is a disgusting ad for P.P. running around social media right now with a beautiful baby girl, looking adoringly into the camera. It says, “She deserves to be loved. She deserves to wanted. She deserves to be a choice.”

In essence, they are saying that she deserves to die. An innocent child, a helpless child. How sick is this ad?! What about the baby girl’s choices? What heartless human being (I use that term begrudgingly) would allow her precious baby girl to appear in an ad like that? They are sick. They are selfish. They are denented.

I Hate that organization!

Again, if you are in need of help due to an unplanned pregnancy, go to a faith based Crises Pregnancy Center. In McComb, MS it is located at 406 Delaware Ave. Their number is 601-684-3987.

 

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My Mid-Life Crises

I think I am having a midlife crises. I have done something that I never thought I’d do. And I’m having a hard time feeling any remorse.

What have you done? you may be asking. Well, there are two Christmas trees already up in my farmhouse. Not yet decorated, but positioned and ready for ornaments.

In my past, never would anything remotely Christmas have gone up before Thanksgiving. I thought people who started decorating for Christmas as soon as their Halloween decor was jerked down were, well, just that: Jerks! I would look down my nose at them and shake my head.

Last year I was not in the mood for Christmas; not the commercial side of it. This year- half my shopping is finished, I’ve made the first batch of pralines, and Gesu Bambino just came out of my alto mouth, while I was unloading the dishwasher.

And now these Christmas trees -tinsel no less- one new, one vintage-have shown up in my farmhouse. I’ve heard of people going through a mid-life crises who will purchase out of character things: bass boat, motorcycle, sports car…new spouse, ahem!

For many years, only a real tree bought at a local tree farm adorned the little living room in another lifetime. That’s all there was room for; one tree. In my farmhouse, with nice big rooms, multiple trees can have a spot.

My youngest saw the trees today.

“Oh, brother!” he exclaimed. “You’ve become one of those people who rush Christmas.”

“No, they won’t be decorated till after Thanksgiving,” I defended my purchases and myself.

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Okay, so I did put a few bubble lights on the Shiny Brite tinsel tree from the mid-century. Please don’t judge. I’m having a Christmas mid-life crises.

October Cookie of the Month: Cookie Dough 101

October’s cookie of the month took a fantastic turn towards teaching, encouragement and fun.  A group of young ladies and their children assembled in the Exile’s Kitchen for Cookie Dough 101. The premise for the get together was to fill the freezer of each family represented with rolls of cookie dough, so Holiday preparations would be easier. To make things light and fun (as if these ladies and girls needed help doing so) we all wore froofroo aprons, with a prize of bakeware for the most June Cleaver-like apron.

20181027_112654 The little girls and boy held in there for the first batch of cookie dough making (August Cookie of the Month: Cranberry Pecan Shortbread), but then the front porch and sunshine and woods called them outside, so the mamas finished the other two recipes. The little girls didn’t want cranberries and pecans in their shortbread and opted for sprinkles. They named their creation: Funfetti Shortbread.

The second cookie dough was a Brown Sugar Cookie, which is good base for any add-in you may want.  The lone teenager of the class added Heath candy pieces and milk chocolate chips to her bowl, calling her mix up Heath Chocolate Bar Cookies.

The third cookie dough was a basic sugar cookie, rolled up in parchment paper and ready for slicing and baking later in the Holiday season.

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Cookie Dough Rolls

Some of the comments today:

“I never think to put on an apron, but I’m digging this.”

“Aprons are handy. They keep your outfit clean and you can dry dishes with it.”

“Is that just a ruffle on yours or pockets too?”

“Yes, pockets. For a recipe card or gathering eggs or holding my loaded pistol..!” Just kidding.

Plans have been made for more gathering in the Exile’s Kitchen for simple beginner classes.

Here’s the Brown Sugar Cookie recipe: cream together 1 cup softened butter and 1 1/2 cups of firmly packed brown sugar. Add 1 whole egg and 1 egg yolk, and 1 tablespoon vanilla to butter and sugar. In another bowl, combine 3 cups all purpose flour, 1 teaspoon baking soda, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Then slowly add flour mixture to butter mixture. Then fold in your favorite add-in- chocolate chips, toffee pieces, nuts, whatever, it’s your cookie dough. Bob Ross would agree with me. It Started With A Happy Little Cloud

With a cookie scoop, drop onto parchment lined cookie sheet, two inches apart and bake  at 350° for 8 to 10 minutes. Let cool slightly on cookie sheet, then transfer to a wire rack to finish cooling.

Cookie and Froofroo Apron Blessings from the Exile’s Kitchen.

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F.P.

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Saturday; the word has to be one of the most glorious ever thought up. Whether it’s watching collegiate football or catching up on weekly chores,  how would we make it without Saturday?

At my farmhouse I’ve done all of the above. I’m watching my LSU TIGERS take on Georgia right now. GEAUX TIGERS!

Earlier Miss Marigold and I went to the hardware store for vent hood pipe and aluminum tape. I had never put said vent pipe in said vent hood and I had a masked bandit get into my house. Yes, a raccoon! It got into the attic and then came through the ceiling into the cabinet with the vent hood. Of course when I got home Tuesday, I didn’t know it had been a raccoon that had riffled through my kitchen drawers and knocked over lamps. I called the sheriff’s office when I saw the blood on a wall in one of the bedrooms. The deputy was prompt in getting to my house and investigated around.

“I don’t see any brbrbrokkkkenenen winders,” he said. Yes, a pronounced stutter.

“Right,” I agreed. “And the doors were all locked. I don’t know how they got in. They knocked over the lamps on the sitting area.”

“Where’s the blood ma’am?”

I showed him. He looked around and shined his flashlight on the floor. Scat, as in wild animal poop.

“Ah, wewwell, I believe everything is oookkkkay. I ththink ya just got a cricricritter!”

So, anyway, I plugged the hole above the stove, but I don’t know how the masked bandit got into the attic. Maybe he won’t come back, since he somehow hurt himself riffling through my house.

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My house: Flowers Proper. F.P. for short. (Side note: if you’re ever watching the Weather Channel and a big storm is coming up through New Orleans to Hattiesburg, the Weather caster will start calling out areas along the storms path: listen and look at the map. They often call out, “Get ready Flowers, you’re about to be hit by this bad weather.” Flowers is basically my house, a few others, a big chicken farm  and a hunting camp. But dont tell the Weather Channel. I like hearing them announce my little spot on the map.)

I spent the rest of the day in my front garden. I bought 100 flower bulbs from American Meadows and they came in this week. The lady at the post office retrieved my package, when I handed her the notice that had been placed in my P.O.Box.  She asked, “Flowers Proper?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I love hearing the name of my home. I also love restoring the gardens. Ancient azaleas, sasanqua, and camelias remain, but very few old plantings from the neglected flower beds do. Just a few spider and day lilies. A couple of wild irises.

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I planted the box of daffodils and hyacinths from American Meadows. Miss Marigold sniffed at them as I planted them in a serpentine pattern at the base of the Pride of Mobile. It should make a pretty show around Easter next year. A prayer was sent heavenward that they will give joy to future visitors.

Saturday Blessings from Flowers Proper.

Evening Stroll

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The late afternoon shower made the air cooler, and thus, my evening walk more enjoyable. As always, the collection of differing architecture added drama to the days last bit of light. Magnolia, Mississippi is made for walking and snapping pictures. This is the undulating boardwalk of the old depot turned City Hall. If you are day tripping, stop and visit this pretty little town off I55.

An Hour And A Half From Everywhere

Blessings from the Exile’s Kitchen.

Why I Hate Planned Parenthood Part Three

It’s my body. I can do with it whatever I want.

This is often scrawled on posters and thrown from the throats of protesters: the pro-choice people.

You do have the right to do to your body whatever you want. But you’re not harming yourself. You’re killing a vulnerable human being. A tiny one. An innocent one.

President Trump defunded Planned Patenthood on a national level in April 2018, leaving it up to individual states decide if they want to support abortion clinics, Planned Parenthood.

Now, for the last three weeks, the country has been flooded with pics and audio of congressional hearings on Brett Kavanaugh, President Trump’s latest nominee for the Supreme Court. I won’t bore you with everything he was alleged to have done as a teenager.  Lord help us all, right, if we were judged by what we may or may not have done in the ’80s?

Brett Kavanaugh has been confirmed, as of this Saturday.

As I said in an earlier post about why I hate Planned Parenthood, I know the ads for them on my site are a desperate plea. Here’s another: I beg you to not give anything to Planned Parenthood, not your support, not your time, not your money.  They kill babies.

That’s why I hate Planned Parenthood.

Why I Hate Planned Parenthood Part Two

Margaret Sanger was not only the founder of Planned Parenthood,  but also a racist. She believed the world needed to be purged of ethnic minorities and persons with disabilities. In 1926 she spoke to the women of the Ku Klux Klan in Silver Lake, New Jersey. 

Read an informative article in americamagazine.org. Margaret Sanger was a eugenicist. Why are we still celebrating her? written by John J. Coney

 

Why I Hate Planned Parenthood

WordPress, even though I have contacted their admiminstators about removing the Planned Parenthood ad from my blog site, continues to place it above my and sometimes below my posts.

So, get ready. Every time I see the ad is on my site theexileskitchen.com – a site I have paid for, btw- I am going to give a reason why I hate Planned Parenthood.

They kill babies. Human babies.

Planned Parenthood hides behind the guise of women’s health issues: pap smears,  mammograms,  birth control. I would be fine with the afore mentioned, if that’s all they provided. I wouldn’t mind my hard earned tax dollars going to help poor women get the medical care they needed. I stop at the killing of unborn children.

I know that the ads placed on my blog site are not random. Appointing another conservative judge to the U.S. Supreme Court is most likely the reason for the ramped up ads.

Health care, yes. Killing the unborn, no.

Certain Colors

What’s your favorite color? Mine used to be red. Since the kids’ school colors were American red, white, and blue, well I had a lot of clothes in all of those. Pink played a big part in my wardrobe, waybackwhen, before marriage and children.

Choosing paint colors for my farmhouse was daunting. I knew I didn’t want decorator beige.  Someone suggested white. I smiled and nodded; inwardly wrinkled my nose. Sure it goes with anything and everything, but boring? My, yes!

Opening up doorways and walls, made the living spaces flow into another.  The view goes from the front room all the way to the back sun porch. Choosing colors meant a scheme that would flow from room to room. But again, what color or colors to choose?

I thought of grey. Do you know how many greys there are? Hypothetical. You don’t need to try to answer. I looked at so many my eyes hurt. I decided to choose my colors by their names, words that spoke to me. Woodlawn Silverbrook/parlor/back bedroom; I graduated from Woodlawn High School in Baton Rouge.

In the kitchen, dining room, living room Azure Snow graces the wall. The trim color everywhere is Snowcap White. So there- there is white- quite a bit actually.  Back in the kitchen, the granite countertops, a bargain from SandS Granite, are called Aspen. Azure Snow, Snowcap White, and Aspen all in the kitchen,  sounds cold, but it’s the warmest room in the house.

Blues have also shown up throughout my life and again in this old farmhouse. Journal Book colors the walls in the front bedroom and back sun porch. I’ve kept a journal my whole life. A legacy, I guess, for my sons when I’m gone. I should probably go through them and scratch out some entries…

Finds were unpacked back in January. They make me smile to see how well they fit into this new life.

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Colorful Blessings from the Exile’s Kitchen.

September Cookie of the Month: Failure

Chocolate Shortbread… it seemed so promising. The Pinterest pictures looked so pretty. I followed the directions and the eggless dough tasted good, before baking. The recipe said to bake for 25 minutes. Well, that was just wrong. The edges came out too dark; burnt chocolate ain’t good. I’m trying to think of a way to save these.

I’ve cut the overbrowned edges off and cooled the shortbread on a wire wrack, still on the parchment. The pretty little marks, imprinted before baking all but disappeared when baked. Frowny face. Hmmmm. Still thinking.

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Okay, this is what I came up with, and it’s not great either, but here goes. I mixed up powdered sugar, butter, milk and a little cocoa, to make a sandwich cookie filling. It came out runny.

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Oh, well. I’ll try again another time. Community Coffee did help, a little.

Story of life. Even easy recipes can be screwed up. Things that should turn out perfectly sometimes don’t. Cut the burnt edges off, smile and smear some sugar on it. And try again. Nothing is really a failure, if you don’t give up.

Blessings from the Exile’s Kitchen.