Halloween: Childhood Memories

Happy Halloween!!

Today I'm remembering way back...okay...way way back...to when I was young enough to go trick or treating. 

When I was young, I lived in a small and wonderful town in the hill country of South Carolina on the North Carolina line in Cherokee Country.  There are real seasons there, and Halloween was always cold. 

Back then Halloween meant ghosts and goblins and things that go bump in the night.  There was none of this fairy princess stuff.  No Disney costumes or happy little cartoon characters.  No.  Halloween was the Day of the Dead and "tricks" happened as well as "treats."

Children dressed as scary things, the scarier the better!

 
The worst of the tricks, I think, happened to all of us with those horrid Halloween masks.  The masks were hard plastic with very small eye holes and oftentimes no breathing holes at all, which meant there were hoards of children walking around the neighborhoods half-blind and slowly suffocating as they screamed "Trick or Treat" at the top of their lungs.  The cold outside and the warm breath inside the masks also caused condensation, so your face would get damp and cold and you'd have to sneeze or cough and your nose would run.

Seriously.  Those masks were breeding grounds for things more terrible than the undead. 

Parents didn't go trick-or-treating with their kids back then.  They stayed home and gave out the candy.

Mama would make my brother, Gene, hold my hand, and off we'd go to scare people.  I remember the thrill of thinking no one knew who I was beneath that mask, so I could scare them and totally get away with it.  It was quite the rush to a little girl.  I'd make roaring and growling noises and the adults would quake with fear causing me to laugh and laugh.  So much fun!

Gene and I spent a good bit of time plotting and hiding behind trees to jump out at other kids and scare them.  They'd scream LOUD and we'd squeal with laughter and run before they figured out who we were. 

It was very dark outside at night back then in a little country town, so we'd often get away unknown.  We laughed so much my stomach hurt.

We'd stagger around holding onto each other as we climbed the stairs to our neighbors' doors.  We only visited the homes in our neighborhood, and we knew everyone we visited.  We'd knock or ring the doorbells and yell, "Trick or Treat!"  Gene and I would fight over who got to ring the doorbell.  Truth be told, I still LOVE ringing doorbells.  I would beg him, "PLEASE let me ring the next one!" and sometimes he would.  Gene loved me.

We had plain paper bags to hold our candy.  We'd get what we thought was a LOT of candy, about a lunch-sized bagful, and then we'd head home to compare our loot and eat ourselves sick. 

Once we arrived home, the negotiations would begin.  "I'll trade you six Mary Janes for your Candy Cigarettes." 

Halloween was mostly about fun, back then.  No razor blades in apples.  No poisoned candy.  No worries about such things until I was older and people were meaner and had more time on their hands. 

Halloween was never as much fun after Gene got too big to trick-or-treat and my younger sister got big enough to go instead.  I prefer those Halloweens with just Gene and me.  I will always remember those.

Here's wishing everyone a wonderful Halloween like those today.  Treat the little monsters who come to your door, be afraid (!) and enjoy yourself.  There will never be another Halloween quite like today.

Happy Birthday to My Granddaughter, Sharon!

Seventeen years ago today I made the mad dash from Charleston, South Carolina to Shelby, North Carolina to sit with my oldest son while his first child and my first grandchild was being born. 

I remember sitting there thinking it didn't feel that long ago since I had become a mother in that very hospital, and now I was to be a grandmother and my son was on the brink of being a father.  He was jittery that day, as is common and normal under the circumstances. Jittery and hopeful and nervous and about to burst with anticipation. It was a happy day.

Sharon's arrival was a very welcomed thing to say the least.  She came to us all pink and pretty, and making little cooing noises.  So precious. 

My mother was still alive back then, and she was overjoyed with her new great-granddaughter! I remember how happy she was that day.

Seventeen years ago.  Time has flown!

Sharon is a young lady in high school now. She grows more precious and beautiful with each passing day, and the days sure do pass quickly.

Happy Birthday Dear Granddaughter!  I love you very much and hope you have a wonderful day!

Haunted House - Sanford, North Carolina: A True Story

Many years ago we were looking at houses in and around Sanford, North Carolina.  Some of the houses felt like such happy places where you'd love to live.  Others were much less happy.

It is an odd thing, but when I go in houses, especially empty houses, they tend to make me feel one way or another.  Like the houses themselves soak up energy from their occupants and keep it in the walls and floors.

One such house made me so sad when I went inside that I could not stay in there.  The realtor admitted the couple who were selling that house were divorcing after many years of loud fights and neighborhood disruptions.  He asked me how I knew.  I said, "This is the saddest house I have ever entered."

I fear that realtor thought me crazy.

There was another house in Sanford, NC back then that I refused to enter.  It was a lovely house.  Big old white two-story house.  It would have been perfect for us had it not been haunted.

Even my sons felt it.  I told the realtor there was something evil in that house.  My eldest son said, "Yes.  It is behind the room on the left," and I agreed.

The realtor actually stepped back and looked at us with something akin to fear.  He said, "You know, that is strange that you say that because that area is exactly where we found an insect infestation.  The exterminators are having a time eliminating all of them.  They keep coming back, but we can't figure out where they are coming from."

I said, "The evil is attracting them.  We need to leave.  Now," and we did.


It was only two days or so later that the realtor called me at my home and told me that beautiful old two-story white house burned to the ground the night before.

I asked him what started the fire, and he said, "No one knows, but it started in the area behind that room where the insects were.  I thought you'd want to know."

I thanked him for calling and told him I was not surprised.  Evil and hatred attract all manner of bad things.

We never did move to Sanford, and that's okay with me. I figure that fire either purged or released that evil.  I'd rather not take the chance of being anywhere around in case it was the latter.  -shudder-

How many of you have had such experiences?  I'm betting more than a few....

The Haunted Woods - Near Boiling Springs, NC - A True Story (As Told to Me)

When I was a little girl my Mama told me this story about her Uncle Pink (Pinckney).  She swore it was true.  You decide.

Mama said:

Back in the 1920s when I was just a girl, Uncle Pink would sometimes walk to the neighbor's house to help the family or check on them.  To get there he'd have to walk about a mile through the woods near his house which was not far from Boiling Springs, North Carolina and not far from Mooresboro, North Carolina.  Way out in the country.  Uncle Pink always tried his best to go and come in daylight, but many times it would be after dark before he could leave to come back home.

There was a well-marked path that he followed.  He said every time he'd start back home around dusk dark, a little white dog would appear and walk with him.  The dog would never let him touch it, but it stayed by his side all the way through the wood.  Then, as suddenly as it appeared, it would just disappear!  Poof!  Gone!

There were stranger things happening in those woods the darker it would get.  Uncle Pink said there would be what looked like fireballs rolling across the path or hovering in the forest in front of him and to the sides of him, but nothing ever caught fire.  He figured they were just will-o'-the-wisps, so he learned to ignore them. 

Then one night he heard voices and he snuck off the path to see who it was.  The little white dog did not leave the path.  It just stood there and waited making not a sound.  

Uncle Pink said as he drew closer to the voices, he saw a group of men with hoods on their heads around a fire.  He said he couldn't see exactly what they were doing, but the hair stood up on the back of his neck and he gave in to the need to run that night.  He ran back to the path as quick and quiet as he could and got home lickety split. 

The men never followed.  They never stopped what they were doing.  They never acted like they heard him at all.

The next day he started asking around about that group of men in the wood.  The stories he heard turned his stomach.  Everybody said those men did meet in those woods, but not for 50 years or so.  They told him tales of murder and cremations in those woods.  Beheadings.  People seeing a headless man walking through those woods like a chicken with its head cut off.  Bad bad things.  Too bad to say out loud, and there was a killing of a gentle little white dog that belonged to one of the murder victims. 

This made Uncle Pink shudder and cold chills run up his spine.

Uncle Pink decided he'd only visit the neighbors first thing in the morning after that, so he'd always get home no later than mid-day. 

Now they say, even today, if you happen on those woods as the sun hangs low and dusk falls across the land, a sweet and faithful little white dog will appear and stay by your side 'til you're safe through the trees, and people round about still swear the fireballs can be seen now and then of a night, eerily passing through those woods making their unearthly light. 

I'll not be going there myself to find out if Uncle Pink's story is true, but if you ever go, you let me know.

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That's the story as my Mama told it to me. Is it true? You decide. 

Dogs Like Halloween Too!

A few years ago I had a dog named Buster.  He passed away in December 2013 of liver and spleen cancer.  I will miss that dog until I die.  Maybe longer.

Buster was a registered therapy dog.  We visited a nursing home weekly and Buster just loved dressing up for the holidays.  He loved wearing clothes because Buster thought he was human (although he was much better than any human I've ever met, of course).

Since Buster got to wear Halloween costumes, Dolly wanted one too, so I sewed them both Halloween costumes.  This tells you how much I love my dogs.  Anyone who knows me well with tell you I do know how to sew, but I hate it with such a white hot passion that I will never do it unless I want to make something I can not buy.

Here are some of my fur-children Halloween picture memories for you.  Happy memories.  Enjoy!

My boy, Buster, dressed as a Count Dracula.  See his fangs?

Buster visiting the nursing home on Halloween.

Dolly modelling her Halloween costume. Look how happy!

Dolly in her Halloween finery.  She was so proud!

Buster modelling his Halloween costume.  The hat is a doll hat. Buster loved that hat.

Sweet Dolly.  She loves clothes!

In case you are wondering, yes, they did get lots of treats that Halloween!  Okay...I admit my dogs get treats everyday, but they really enjoyed their Halloween doggie treats that year. 

MacBeth by William Shakespeare - Act IV Scene I

This is my favorite part of the Shakespeare play, MacBeth.  I don't do the reading justice, of course, but hopefully my brief reading will give you inspiration to read the entire play by clicking HERE.

I always think of MacBeth this time of year. Enjoy!

Dancing With the Devil in the Pale Moonlight

Yes.  I do have a photograph of me dressed as a dead cheerleader dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight.

I know you are shocked.  😉

Many years ago when my sons were teenagers in the early 1990s, my ex-husband and I went to a Halloween party sponsored by his workplace.  Here are some of the photos that I have scanned.  I didn't know any of these people very well, so I don't really remember any of their names, but I do remember having a good time at the party.  It was held in Shelby, North Carolina, but I honestly don't remember exactly where.  This was a long time ago.

This party is one of the things I always think about at Halloween time.  Fun!!! 

Dancing with the Devil.

Black-Eyed Ps

The Flasher

A lovely spider couple

Me dressed as a dead cheerleader.
(My son, Marcus, did my make-up. I had a bullet-hole in my head. It really looked very real.)

By the way, for those of you who are wondering, my ex-husband went to this party dressed as a dead football player. No. He is not in these pictures.

Jack-O-Lantern Fundraiser - Halloween 1993

My life has been blessed in so very many ways, but I'd have to say my sons are my biggest blessing.  They have given me so very many happy days to remember in my old age.  They are my heart.

When I think of Halloween, one of the Halloweens that always pops to mind is Halloween 1993 when my son, Dave, was in college at North Carolina School of the Arts in Winston Salem, NC, and my sons Marcus and Eric were still at home.

On that particular Halloween, my son, Marcus was a senior in high school and his class was doing fund raisers so they could go on a senior trip to New York City in Spring 1994.  Marcus didn't like the things they were selling, so he decided to do his own fundraiser.

Now, you should know that my son, Marcus is a charming creative sort.  Since it was Halloween he decided to sell Jack-O-Lanterns for his fundraiser, so we went to a local pumpkin farm in Kings Mountain, NC and Marcus charmed them into selling him pumpkins for a dollar each.  He then carved those pumpkins and sold them for $10.00 each, as they were all unique and remarkable.  Well worth the price.

Marcus ended up selling over 50 Jack-O-Lanterns that year.  I will never forget it.  He earned enough money for his senior trip as well as pocket money to spend in New York.  He brought us all back presents because that is the kind of person he is.  Generous to a fault.

Here are a few of the pumpkins he carved.  I have other photographs, but I'd have to find and scan them.  That is a project for after I retire.  I'm going to have to live to be 200 years old in order to complete all the projects I need to do after retirement, but I'm thinking I will enjoy each of them that I do get completed.

My favorite of Marcus's creations was a design of his own where the Jack-o-Lantern's smiling teeth spelled out Happy Halloween.  I really need to find that photograph.  It is on my to-do list.  But here are the ones I have already scanned.

Enjoy!

Booger Jim, Cherokee Falls, SC - A True Story (As Told to Me)

If you have ever lived anywhere near Cherokee Falls, South Carolina, you know about Booger Jim.  My Daddy, who was born in December 1900 and lived many years of his life in Cherokee Falls, said he saw Booger Jim the first time when he was about six years old.  He said Booger Jim was standing at the edge of the woods, taller than a normal man and black as soot.

Daddy ran home quick when he saw Booger Jim.  I don't much blame him.

There are all kinds of stories floating around about Booger Jim.  I've heard a few about Booger Jim living under the Cherokee Falls bridge, but I've never really known that to be true.  I did hear a truthful sounding tale of Booger Jim when I was small though.  That is the tale I will tell you now.  The woman who told me swears it is true.

First off, for those of you not fortunate enough to have been born in the Upstate of South Carolina, I'll tell you about Cherokee Falls.

No.  There is not an actual waterfall there that I've ever known, but the Broad River flows through Cherokee Falls, so there may have been a little falls thereabouts probably before they built the cotton mill.

Cherokee Falls was a mill town that grew around the Cherokee Manufacturing Company that was built there on the Broad River.  The people who worked in that mill for the most part lived in mill housing on the "Mill Hill" above the mill. Poverty was rampant there, as the cotton mill did not pay very much money even though the hours were long. The men, women, and children of that little community oftentimes were working in the mill from dawn to dusk. Yes, they used child labor in that mill until it was outlawed, but that is another story.

The woman who told me today's story lived on that Mill Hill in the early days of the 20th century.  This story haunted her even as she spoke it, wide eyed and horrified decades after it happened.  Here's what she said:

I just got supper on the table when my ol' man come running up the hill a'yellin', "OPEN THE DOOR!!! FOR GOD'S SAKE, WOMAN, OPEN THE DOOR!!!" 

I told the children to sit on down for supper, as I hurried to open the front door. 

He was around the bend in the road down the hill when I first went to the porch, but soon I could see him comin'.  He come runnin' faster'n I'd a'thought possible.  He never slowed a bit coming up those porch steps and through that door pushing me inside as he slammed it, bolted it, and pushed a chair under the knob a'fore running for the shotgun.

That thing a'chasin him hit that door so hard the door groaned under the weight, 'bout the time my ol' man got the shotgun loaded.  He shot both barrels point blank at that door.  Blowed a hole in it big enough for me to push my fist through, if I'd been so a'mind. 

Whatever that was on our porch screamed like a Banshee.  High like. Made my blood run cold, that scream.  We heard that thing bolt off the porch and leave, but we never went outside that night, and I didn't sleep much at all.  Took forever to get the children settled. 

The next morning we went out and there were claw marks a inch deep on our front door, and a dark trail going into the wood.  We followed that trail a'ways, but it trickled and ended like the thing was healin' quick as it run.  Darnedest think I ever did see.  Didn't leave narry'a footprint.  Like it was a ghost or somethin' worse.

After that we'd hear it now and then a'screamin' out in the wood.  Always at night.  High pitched like a woman screamin'.  Give you cold chills to hear it.

My ol' man said it was Booger Jim chased him.  He said that thing was near eight feet tall and black as soot. It could put its hands on the ground and run like a beast or walk on two legs like a man. 

They give him an awful hard time about it at work.  They said it were a bear or a panther, but if my ol' man said it was Booger Jim, then it was Booger Jim.  That's all I got to say about it.  That shotgun would'a killed a bear or a panther. 

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That's the best of my Booger Jim stories.  It was told to me as true.  You decide.

Cherokee Falls, South Carolina

Cherokee Falls, South Carolina

Cherokee Falls, South Carolina

Broad River in Cherokee Falls, South Carolina

Southern Ghost Story Videos from SCETV, ETVRoadShow, and Scarey Videos - Enjoy!

I'm still in ghost story mode, and probably will be until after Halloween, so I though I'd share these local hauntings videos with you.

Enjoy!

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Whig Hill Cemetery, Gaffney, South Carolina is Haunted: A True Story

The Revolutionary War in the Upstate of South Carolina was more of a Civil War than you think.  The Battle of Kings Mountain, fought in Blacksburg, SC, was mostly Whigs against Tories, neighbor against neighbor, brother against brother.  It was an ugly heartbreaking time that left marks deep enough to span generations.

That war left its ghosts scattered all across the colonies.  They say some still reside in Cherokee County, South Carolina in a place called Whig Hill.

Whig Hill is a graveyard in Cherokee County, SC about 12 miles or so south of Gaffney on Hwy 18 (n34 57.633 , w81 39.317).  There are only about 35 or so graves there (give or take a few), but all of them are old graves and many of the people buried there died violent deaths of betrayal, as you can imagine. 

Back around 1970 my brother, Gene, decided he was interested in tombstone rubbings.  I found that a fine idea, so one bright and beautiful October Saturday morning we headed to Whig Hill with our charcoal and pencils and rubbing paper. 

Oh...we had heard the stories of course, but it was bright daylight, so we thought we were safe from haints.  Besides, we took some other people with us and there is safety in numbers.  Right?  Well...

We drove out to Whig Hill, which was not all that easy to find.  It was way down a dirt road in the absolute middle of nowhere.  There was not even a major highway anywhere around back then. 

We parked the car and walked up the hill to the graves.  What we found was horrifying in itself.  Someone had broken the tombstones.  Desecrated the graves.  The hair stood up on the back of my neck when I saw it.  Every single grave had been disturbed.  There were some above-ground crypts with their heavy cement lids askew.  Grave markers scattered everywhere and even some of the graves themselves disturbed.  If I were Catholic, I would have crossed myself and run! 

My brother, Gene, said the graveyard was full of English sympathizers loyal to the crown (Whigs), and the Patriots' (Tories) descendants obviously still remembered how they killed their kin.  They couldn't take revenge on dead people, so they took their revenge out on their graves. 

I shuddered and wanted to leave, but Gene talked us all into doing just a couple of rubbings before we left, so we started making rubbings of the pieces of the tombstones we could find that still had readable words.

That's when we heard it.  At first it sounded like a car driving too fast down a highway.  I said, "Is there a road behind those trees?" and pointed to the rear of the cemetery.  Gene said, "There's not a road like that for miles."  I started gathering my things.

That's when the sound changed.  It sounded like it was coming from the woods where I pointed, and it sounded like a wolf or a bear growling low and vicious.  It was terrifying!  I screamed, "Back to the car!!!" and I ran as fast as I could, dodging broken pieces of tombstones, as my brother jumped between me and the noise. 

That's when the noise moved to one of the above-ground crypts near Gene.  I stopped and turned and went back for Gene then, just as the lid of that crypt began to shake.  I grabbed Gene's hand and we ran down the hill.  The others already had the car started and turned around.  We jumped inside and raced down that bumpy dirt road as fast as we could.

We kept looking back and one of the people with us said he saw something running in the dust, but I never saw it.  All I know is I never intend to go there again.  Daylight or not.

Now.  We told our story around town back then.  The people laughed and laughed.  They said it was just bootleggers had the place booby trapped to keep people away.  We didn't see how bootleggers could have done that given there was no electricity anywhere around that graveyard, but we let them laugh and talk. 

It was a couple of years before we heard a similar story from some other people, but we did hear it...the car on a highway...the growling in the woods...the shaking above-ground crypt. 

I still am not sure what was down that dirt road or how it got inside that crypt, but I do know it was something.  I heard it with my own ears and saw it with my own eyes. 

In more recent years than 1970, I heard that Whig Hill Cemetery has been restored.  I sure hope that is true.  Maybe now the ghosts can rest.

This is not Whig Hill, but it would look similar to this with the old tombstones restored.
I will never go there again, so I couldn't take a picture of it for you.

Limestone College Ghost, Gaffney, South Carolina: A True Story

Many years ago when I was attending Limestone College in Gaffney, South Carolina, I did work-study in the Admissions Office in the Curtis Administration Building for about a year. 

The Curtis Administration Building and Cooper Hall are really one building.  Cooper Hall is one of ten buildings on the Limestone College campus listed on the National Register of Historic Places.  It was originally constructed around 1835 as the Limestone Springs Hotel and is the oldest building on campus.

When Limestone College was established about ten years later in 1845, the old Limestone Springs Hotel became Cooper Hall, a residence hall.

Some say it is also the most haunted building on campus, but that statement is often argued, as the Winnie Davis Hall of History has its own ghost stories, but I never saw those ghosts as that building was closed during my time at Limestone.

Today's story takes place around 1870 after the War Between the States, during the time Cooper Hall was a residence hall.  Back then Limestone was an all girls Christian high school.  The young ladies would arrive on campus with their servants to care for them.  It wouldn't be proper for a lady of that age or station in life to be left unattended.  Her reputation could be ruined!

I learned all these things and more while I was working in that admissions office.  During that time I also oftentimes had to go into the old Cooper Hall building to get supplies.  

You see, back when I was in college, Cooper Hall was used for storage, and, let me tell you, that building was spooky!  You'd walk down those long door-lined halls with your footsteps echoing behind you each time you took a step on that old dusty wooden floor.  Random creeks and pops would jump out here and there to startle you. I nearly jumped out of my skin many-a-time as I'd make my way down to the admissions office storage room.

Oh yes.  That place scared the liver outta me.  I wish you could have seen it.  The paint on those old walls was peeling in places and there was never enough light to quite see well, so I'd either have to stop and squint to make sure I was at the right place, or I'd have to count the doors as I'd go along.  

That building was built with huge and beautiful windows in the rooms behind all those doors.  It was meant for those windows to be opened for ventilation, as the outside air was fresh and clean back in 1835, but those windows had long since been painted or nailed shut to keep students from finding mischief in the storage rooms, so the air was always a little too warm making it stale and hard to breathe in there.  Even so, you'd pass through cold spots as you walked past some of the doors.  Those cold spots often made the hair stand up on the back of my neck and my arms break out in goosebumps.  

It just didn't feel or look "right" in there.

There was no electricity in the original building, and it seemed like what was added later was just an afterthought.  Bare bulbs here and there on long wires hanging down and old turn switches whose safety was questionable. 

 One day as I was going to the storage room, I noticed someone had left one of the doors open to a room that only contained a rocking chair.  I thought that odd, as all the doors were usually locked, so I walked over to the room intending to close and lock the door with the skeleton key all the doors used, when that rocking chair suddenly started rocking.

I kid you not.

It just started rocking!  

I thought earthquake?  But the dangling light bulbs on their wires were not moving.  Then I thought maybe a loose board I had stepped on made the chair rock, so I retraced my steps as the rocking slowed and stopped.  Nope.  I couldn't make it rock again, so I just decided it was a prank, retrieved my things from storage and went back to work.  

The next day I started asking around about the rocking chair.  Turns out the reason the door was open was some students from Duke University were doing some paranormal  research and had placed the rocker in that room because of a ghost story!!!  They were going to set up more equipment to measure paranormal activity in there.  I was fascinated.

The ghost was supposedly a young girl who came to school there with her nanny around 1870.  One day the girl took sick with a very high fever.  She was fitful.  Tossing and turning and wearing herself out.  She just couldn't sleep.  She couldn't rest.  The only thing her nanny could think to do to comfort her was rock her, so that's what she did.

The girl's nanny held her on her lap in that old wooden rocking chair and rocked her all night that night to comfort her.  On towards morning, as the night faded, in that early morning twilight before dawn, the girl quieted, and still the nanny rocked and sang sweet childhood songs to comfort her, even as her body stiffened. You see, the young beloved girl had died in her nanny's arms. 

This is the legend. There are conflicting stories as to exactly where she did die on campus, but all the stories say she did indeed die on campus. It is a fact that the room I saw that day with the rocking chair was her dorm room where her nanny rocked her when she was so sick. That much is definitely true.
 
Now they say when the air turns cool and the leaves are not long off the trees, if you put a rocking chair anywhere in that particular room, it will rock of its own accord.

I believe it.

I've seen it with my own eyes.

Three Recipes I Do NOT Want to Lose! I want to make these soon.

Today's post is just three recipes that I want to make and I don't want to lose. I thought you might like them too. Enjoy!

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Chocolate Magic Flan Cake

CHOCOLATE MAGIC FLAN CAKE INGREDIENTS

Non-stick baking spray with flour
½ cup salted caramel sauce

Cake

1 – 15.25 ounce box Devil’s Food cake mix
1 cup water
½ cup vegetable oil
3 large eggs, room temperature

Flan

4 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
4 large eggs, room temperature
1 – 14 ounce can sweetened condensed milk
1 – 12 ounce can evaporated milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

DIRECTIONS

• Preheat the oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Set a kettle of water on to boil, and ready a deep roasting pan or baking dish large enough to hold a 12-cup Bundt pan along with space all around the sides for water.
• Coat a 12-cup Bundt pan with non-stick baking spray with flour.
• Pour the caramel sauce into the prepared Bundt pan.
• Prepare the cake batter by adding the water, vegetable oil, and 3 eggs to the cake mix and mixing until well-combined.
• Pour the cake batter into the Bundt pan evenly over the caramel sauce.
• In a large blender, prepare the flan by combining the cream cheese, 4 eggs, sweetened condensed milk, evaporated milk and vanilla. Process until smooth.
• Slowly pour the egg mixture into the Bundt pan over the cake batter.
• Coat a piece of foil with non-stick cooking spray, then cover the pan tightly with the foil.
• Place the large roasting pan or baking dish on the middle rack in the preheated oven. Carefully pour in the boiling water until it is about 2 inches high. Place the Bundt pan into the middle of the roasting pan, and carefully slide the rack back into place so you don’t splash hot water on yourself. Be careful.
• Bake for 1 ¾ to 2 hours, until a toothpick stuck into the center still has a few moist cake crumbs and the edges have started to pull away from the sides of the pan.
• Remove from the oven and take the Bundt pan out of the water bath. Remove the foil and cool for 1 hour at room temperature. Chill overnight.
• After the overnight chilling, unmold the cake and serve!

TIP

We highly recommend using a non-stick spray that contains flour. We tested this recipe several times, using both regular non-stick spray and unsalted butter to grease the Bundt pan, but in both tests, some of the cake batter refused to rise to the top. The result? A flan cake with a marbled top. While that version is fine to eat, if you really want the visual appeal of the two-toned cake, use non-stick baking spray that contains flour to prep your Bundt pan.

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Cinnamon Roll Waffles With Cream Cheese Glaze

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Slow Cooker Potato Soup



Slow Cooker Potato Soup - Yield: 8-10 servings

This Slow Cooker Potato Soup recipe is thick and creamy (without using heavy cream), wonderfully flavorful, and made extra easy in the slow cooker!

Prep Time: 10 mins

Cook Time: 4 hours 10 mins

Total Time: 4 hours 20 mins
Ingredients:

6 slices cooked bacon*, diced
3-4 cups good-quality chicken or vegetable stock
2 pounds Yukon gold potatoes**, peeled (if desired) and diced
1 medium white or yellow onion, peeled and diced
4 tablespoons bacon grease* (or butter)
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 (12-ounce) can 2% evaporated milk
1 cup shredded reduced-fat sharp cheddar cheese
1/2 cup plain low-fat Greek yogurt or low-fat sour cream
1 teaspoon Kosher salt, or more to taste
1/2 teaspoon freshly-cracked black pepper
optional toppings: thinly-sliced green onions or chives, extra shredded cheese, extra bacon, sour cream

Directions:

Add bacon, 3 cups chicken stock, potatoes and onion to the bowl of a large slow cooker, and stir to combine. Cook on low for 6-8 hours or on high for 3-4 hours, or until the potatoes are completely tender and cooked through.

Once the soup has slow cooked and is about ready to serve, cook the butter in a small saucepan on the stove over medium-high heat until it has melted. Whisk in the flour until it is completely combined, and then cook for 1 minute, stirring occasionally. Gradually add in the evaporated milk while whisking it together with the flour mixture, and continue whisking until the mixture is completely smooth. Let the mixture continue cooking until it reaches a simmer, stirring occasionally, and then it should get really thick.

Immediately pour the milk mixture into the slow cooker with the potatoes, and stir until combined. Add in the cheddar cheese, Greek yogurt (or sour cream), salt and pepper, and stir until combined. If you would like the soup to be even thicker, you can use a potato masher or a large spoon to mash about half of the potatoes (while the soup is still in the slow cooker) to thicken the soup up. If you would like the soup to be thinner, add in an extra 1-2 cups of warmed chicken or vegetable stock. Stir to combine, then taste and add more salt and pepper if needed.

Serve warm, garnished with desired toppings. Or transfer to a sealed container and refrigerate for up to 3 days. (This recipe will not freeze well.)

*You can either fry the bacon, cook it in the microwave, or buy pre-cooked bacon. If frying or microwaving, I recommend dicing the bacon before cooking it. And if you are frying it, I highly recommend saving the bacon grease for later and then using it to make your roux (instead of butter).

**I highly recommend using Yukon gold potatoes, which have the perfect texture and buttery taste for this soup. But Russet potatoes or red potatoes would also work just fine in this recipe.

***If you would like to make this recipe vegetarian, use vegetable stock, omit the bacon, and I would recommend adding in 2-3 teaspoons of Old Bay seasoning for extra flavor.

Searching for Sugar Man (Probably NOT What You Think)

Searching for Sugar Man is a documentary.  The story is so incredible that this film won an Oscar for Best Documentary in 2013.  It is about the 1970s singer/songwriter, Sixto Rodriguez. Known merely as Rodriguez.  

To view all the film's awards click HERE and be prepared to scroll a long way down before getting to the end of that list.  It is a remarkable film - a modern day rags to riches story - a story of a life that should have been. 

I personally believe every human on this planet should see it, so I'm sharing the trailer with you today. 



After seeing the movie in the theater back in 2012, I bought the DVD of it as soon as it released in 2013.  If you want one too (or a Blu Ray), you can buy it HERE.  You can also rent and stream it on Amazon, or you may be able to find it in your local library.  Streaming it on Netflix is unavailable, but you can get the DVD on Netflix if you have that plan.

However you decide to see it, I'd recommend that you do see it.

Below is Rodriguez as he appears today, singing his hit song, Sugar Man.  I admit.  I just love this man and his music.



The reason I'm thinking about Rodriguez today is I drove to North Carolina recently and listened to his music all the way there and all the way back.  I just can't get enough of it. 

Truth be told, I love that he finally is receiving the recognition he deserves.  

Rodriguez is a rock star you never knew you loved.

To purchase his music, click HERE.  Enjoy and you're welcome!

Windows 10 Anniversary Update Is NOT My Friend: How to UNDO the Update

A few weeks ago, my computer decided to suddenly update itself to the new Windows 10 Anniversary Update.  I clicked the NO!!! DO NOT DO THIS!!! (or equivalent) button, but the stupid PC did it anyway.  -sigh-

I decided to go ahead and try it.  I really loved some of the features and really hated some of the features, as was expected. 

The very MOST HATED "feature" of all was the freezing of my computer causing me to have to hard boot constantly by holding down the power button or removing the battery of my laptop.  

After my computer freezing constantly for at least two weeks, I decided enough is enough. 

I looked for a solution to the problem.  Nope.  Microsoft does not have a solution.  Yup.  Microsoft is fully aware of the problem. They are calling it a "freeze-inducing bug" that is affecting thousands of users.  No patch though...no workaround.  (Makes me crazy.)  Ugh.  Their suggestion?  Roll back your computer to an earlier build of Windows 10.

How many of you just know how to roll back your computer from the Anniversary Update to a previous version of Windows 10?  Really?  That many? 

It is NOT intuitive. Just in case you are like me and weren't born knowing such things, here's how to do it:

Restart your computer if it is completely frozen (as was my case) and then do this OR just do this if you're already in your computer:

On the screen that comes next select Troubleshoot. Then choose Advanced Options.

The Advanced Options screen will look like this:

When you get to this screen click Go back to the previous build and wait.

This will reset your computer to your original Windows 10 software.  You will not lose any files, so don't worry about that. 

There are other fixes you can try if you'd rather stick with the new Anniversary Update, but, if you are like me and don't have time to troubleshoot right now, this will fix it.  You can always research the problem and reinstall the update when you find a real solution.  

At present, I'm too irritated at Windows to care about keeping the update.  

I am irritated at computers a lot.  -sigh- 

I'm pretty sure that Bill Gates is the anti-Christ.  (jk)

Wedding Good Luck Charms

I'm still thinking about weddings today, of course.  This weekend is all about my nephew's wedding and family festivities.  This made me think of all the things people do to to bring good luck to the happy couple, so I thought I'd share.

My Favorite Traditional Good Luck Wedding Charm

Something old
Something new
Something borrowed
Something blue and
A sixpence in your shoe

This is an old English custom. Something old represents continuity; something new is for optimism for the future; something borrowed brings happiness; something blue insures purity, love, and fidelity; and a sixpence in your shoe is a wish for good fortune and prosperity.

For more excellent wedding superstitions and explanations click HERE.

Click HERE for even more wedding traditions, superstitions, and other cool stuff.

Enjoy!

Today is my nephew's wedding day!

What a special day!  Today, my nephew, Chris, is marrying his love, Debbie.  I'm so happy for them.  They are perfect together. 

All I can think about today is getting to the wedding on time, since I have no clue where I'm going and am relying on my decidedly unreliable GPS system to get me there.

This reminded me, of course of the My Fair Lady song, Get Me to the Church On Time, so I thought I would share.

Enjoy!  And many congratulations to Chris and Debbie, his beautiful bride!

Summerville, South Carolina: Observations

Many years ago now I knew an elderly Summerville, South Carolina gentleman who was experiencing memory loss.  He spent the last few years of his life looking for Summerville.

Yes.  You read that correctly.  He actually LIVED in Summerville at the time.  He was born and raised there, and did indeed spend most of his life there, but in the end he couldn't find it.  He would step outside his Summerville home, look around, and say, "Where is Summerville?"

A few days ago I experienced that same feeling. 

On my brother's recent birthday, I took the day off to drive up to Monck's Corner, where my brother lives, and spend the day with him.  As I approached the Summerville and Monck's Corner exits on I-26, I decided to drive through Summerville to see how much damage Hurricane Matthew left behind. 

Wow.

Hurricane Matthew did leave a good bit of leaves and limbs and rubbish everywhere, but the real shock was Summerville itself. 

Summerville has grown so much that it is unrecognizable.  Like my elderly friend finally came to accept, there are two Summervilles: the small town Summerville of his youth and today's Summerville.  It is a city now. 

It was near the middle of the day on a Wednesday, when I was there, and there was so much traffic that it was difficult to drive.  Amazing.  The small town charm seems to have been driven away by hundreds and hundreds of cars pulling out in front of me, suddenly slamming on brakes, and generally driving in my way.

I drove through "Old Summerville" and discovered that many of the old lovely houses anywhere near the main roads are up for sale.  It is possible that the people who owned them have passed away now, but it is also possible that the people living there may no longer want to live that close to that much traffic.

It made me sad. 

Many of the stores and restaurants I used to visit almost every week are no longer there.  Instead, there are brand new stores everywhere.  "Progress" some people would say, I guess.

Hurricane Matthew did his worst in Azalea Park.  There were a lot of limbs down everywhere and work crews were working to clean everything up.  I'm afraid some of the big azaleas in the park were pretty twisted and battered.  So sad.  Here is how I remember Azalea Park in Summerville, SC:

I sure hope Hurricane Matthew didn't destroy the lovely old foot bridges in the park. I used to love walking my dogs there.

Everything changes.  The only thing truly reliable and constant in this life is change.  That is true, I know, but I don't have to always like the changes. 

Hurricane Matthew's Destruction Images - Charleston, South Carolina

Someone mentioned to me yesterday how they were glad Charleston was not hit hard by Hurricane Matthew.  I beg to differ.  It was a bad storm.

Here is some photographic evidence for you:

5 Days Ago - nhpr.org

5 Days Ago - abcnews.go.com

4 Days Ago - fortune.com

4 Days Ago - rigorousintuition.ca

4 Days Ago - businessinsider.com

Information below from the Charleston City Paper.  To read the full article click HERE.

Comparing Matthew
Here's how Matthew sized up to the last two significant hurricanes to rock the Holy City.

	Hugo	Floyd	Matthew
Wind speed (mph)	135	81	69
Rainfall (inches)	5.9	3.99	9.4
People evacuated	264,000	410,000	355,000
Surge level	8.5 ft.	–	6 ft.
Days evacuated before storm	2	2	2

---

Happy Happy Birthday to My Brother, Tom!!

Tom is the eldest of our family.  There were six of us originally, three boys and three girls.  I am number five. (Number five is the BEST! -grin-)  Two of our brothers have passed away now, so spending time with Tom today is very special to me.

Yes.  I'm taking today off work to spend some time with the birthday boy.  His health is bad now and I don't get to spend as much time with him as I would like.  I sure hope he has a happy day today on this the luckiest of birthdays!!!  Double sevens!

Birthdays are magical things.  They mark the passage of time, true, but they are also full of wishes and hopes and dreams of the coming year.  If I were in charge of the universe, birthdays would be holidays for everyone.  No one should have to work on their birthday unless work is their happy place.

Last year for Tom's birthday I took the day off and took him out to lunch.  He had been craving lasagna, so I took him to The Red Pepper restaurant on Main Street in Summerville, SC.  The food was absolutely delicious.  

Tom said, "This lasagna is so good it'll make you want to slap your Mama."  -laughing-  I guess it's true.  Mama's lasagna never tasted like that.  In fact, I can't remember her ever making lasagna, come to think of it.

After the wonderful meal at The Red Pepper, Tom and I went to explore the nearby new Trader Joes that had just been built at the time.  It was a relaxing and wonderful day.  We talked and laughed and gossiped, as siblings will do, and generally had a good time.

Little did we know at the time that only a few days later Tom's life would totally change. A trip to the doctor and a bad health report changed everything. We truly never know what the future holds. This is why we need to cherish each and every day.  Share the stories.  Share your time and attention with those you love.  That is something money can never buy.  Love one another.  Say, "I love you," and mean it.  It matters.

Happy Birthday to Tom!!!  I love you, Tom, so very much!  😍

Tom Batchelor

Post Hurricane Matthew: Day 3: No Power, Night 3: POWER!!!

Just before dark on the 3rd night after Hurricane Matthew hit Charleston, SC my power came on!!!

Okay.  I don't look exactly like He-Man, what with being female and all, and brunette and 61 years old and such, but I'm pretty sure this picture is exactly how I felt when my electricity finally came back on!!! 

I knew it was coming.  I took the dogs on our nearly longest walk around the neighborhood today.  I did the 2.5 mile version of our walk since the weather was so wonderful.  Well, truth be told, it was more of a 2.5 mile stroll, as the dogs and I stopped and talked to everyone along the way.  

Seriously, I have the BEST neighbors on this planet.  I really love my neighborhood and will miss them all when I move.  I won't miss Charleston summers at all though.

As I was walking one of the neighbors and I got into a discussion about whether or not the wire down on Ashley Hall Road was indeed a power line.  I insisted, "It is a power line." The man thought it was just a stabilizer line that holds the pole in place.  Another man had argued with me earlier that it was just a cable line.  I asked the neighbor to come look at the line with me and let me show him why I thought it was a power line.

When he really looked and saw what I saw, he agreed.  The actual power line was broken and laying on the ground on Ashley Hall Road.  Not good.

As we were standing there talking, SCE&G trucks came.  Yup.  The actual power line was down.  I walked across the street and talked with another neighbor who was equally excited to see SCE&G on the scene.  He told me he heard that transformer blow.  He said one of his neighbors called him because he thought his house had exploded it was so loud!  When that transformer blew it broke that power line all the way in two and knocked off all our power.

What happened was there was a tree limb that hit the lines and transformer.  No.  There was no tree over the power line there.  It looked exactly like the Jolly Green Giant somehow grabbed a big tree limb and plopped it down directly over the top of that pole on all the power lines and hitting the transformer.  I have no clue how that limb could have done that on its own.  It was the craziest thing I've ever seen, but there you have it.  Crazy.

The SCE&G workers fixed everything and I saw them leaving on my way back from walking through Lenevar Park with my dogs.  I walked all the way back to where the line was down to see if they really fixed it.  They did!

The dogs and I walked on home.  Still no power, but I expected that.  I knew they'd have to test the new line before turning everything back on.  Sure enough, just before dark...POWER!!!

I feel like singing and dancing!!  But, instead, I went straight for my fridge and threw away all my food.  Sad.  I know, but everything defrosted and I'm afraid to eat it.  Stouffer's good stuff.  Costco meatballs.  Hamburger.  Hotdogs.  Chicken.  Veggies.  All ruined.  I think the cheese and butter will be okay.  The milk was sour.  The juice seems fine.  Etc etc etc.  I then made a run to the grocery store.

Wow.

You would NOT believe the grocery store.  

On a Monday night there were about a gazillion people in there. Amazing. A good many of the shelves were still bare from the mad shopping before the storm.  The grocery store people had thrown out all their frozen stuff and only had a small portion of it restocked.  Plus, ALL the Chunky Soup was gone!  ALL of it!  I've never seen such a thing.  The employees looked haggard and tired like they had been running all day long, which they probably had.

I found everything I needed to buy right now, and am now home with my dirty feet up typing this blog post.  Do not worry.  I will wash before bed.

Now I'm thinking about how everything happens for a reason.

A couple of weeks ago, I came home from work one day to find that one of my flood lights in my backyard was arcing.  It had to be removed and replaced right away.  I made a trip to Lowe's and ended up buying a head flashlight so I could see to replace the light that night. 

That head flashlight was a godsend with the power off so long.  I looked like a dork wearing it, I'm sure, but I could see everything and had both my hands free.  It was great, and if my floodlight had not broken, I would not have had the head flashlight.  

Also, if we were going to have a hurricane, this was the very best possible time for it to happen for me.  It is October and in Hurricane Matthew's wake was such a blast of wonderful clear cool air that I was able to breathe with no power in my house for days.  

I am truly blessed and I know it and I am thankful.

I am also very happy because I presently have my coffeemaker set to make me coffee right before my alarm goes off in the morning.  Life is good! 😀