Chick A's jalapeno peppers

Chick B's tomatoes, which have changed color overnight

After waking up in a cold sweat over the possibility that a squirrel might find my summer project, I went ahead and picked my first tomato to let it finish ripening on the window sill in the sun.  The kids thought it was a little too early for picking.  I didn’t care-I wasn’t going to chance it and suffer the devastation that would have followed a tomato kidnapping.

First tomato ever for Chick B

I am hoping to pluck the rest of the beauties from the vine before any of those pesky squirrels or chipmunks realize what is happening right in their own back yard.  Things are looking up for tomato pie, tomato sandwiches, and BLTs!

Chick B

While traipsing around St. Joseph’s Benedictine Abbey searching for Walker Percy’s headstone with Chick B, I suddenly realized what a truly “southern catholic” moment I was having.

For those of you who don’t know Walker Percy, here is a little bio info that may help explain why two Southern Catholic women would haul four kids 60 miles out of the way on a trip home from New Orleans to an abbey outside the small town of Covington, Louisiana.

Born May 28, 1916 in Birmingham, AL, Walker Alexander Percy was an American Southern author whose interests included philosophy and semiotics.  He is best known for his novels including The Moviegoer, The Last Gentleman, Love in the Ruins, and The Second Coming among others.  His work displays a unique combination of existential questioning, Southern sensibility and deep Catholic faith.  Not only was he a prolific writer but he was instrumental in getting John Kennedy Toole’s Pulitzer Prize- winning novel  A Confederacy of Dunces published after Toole’s death.  He also was a great encourager of his fellow Southern writers and along with 21 other authors founded the Fellowship of Southern Writers.  In 1989 the University of Notre Dame awarded Percy its Laetare Medal, which is awarded annually to a Catholic “whose genius has ennobled the arts and sciences, illustrated the ideals of the Church and enriched the heritage of humanity.”

Both Chick B and I share a love for reading books by Southern writers.  And, I had been a Walker Percy fan back in my Protestant days.  So, imagine my delight when we discovered that Walker Percy was a Catholic convert as well.  (This explains the trip to a remote abbey outside Covington, Louisiana.)

Chick B finally located the simple headstone. We paid our respects to the great Southern writer and loaded up back in the car for the 8 hour drive home — a little richer from the “southern catholic moment” we had just had.

Chick A

Sunday, June 6, 9:00 am: excitement building when we load the kids in the car for a 6 hour ride on the first day of the road trip.

Noon: First stop on the way to L.A. (Lower Alabama) is the Cracker Barrel just south of Montgomery.  Our Cracker Barrel national map shows it to be the only one in the area.  Kids are buying candy, sniffing candles, and waiting to be seated.  Vegetable plates and biscuits- this is some kind of good.  Next stop- the Marriott Grand in Point Clear for a few days of swimming and beach fun.  Wondering if we will see tar balls in the sand.

Tuesday: in search of old-fashioned soda shop that Chick B had visited on previous trip to the area.  While driving, shocked to see large, relatively new Catholic church on side of the road- St. Margaret’s of Scotland- near Foley, AL.

Late Tuesday, 9:00 pm: Chick A’s daughter bumps chin on giant pool slide.  On ambulance ride to nearest medical facility to get stitches, driver tells Chick A that there is a rather large population of Catholics along the road stretching from Foley to Gulf Shores.  Who knew?

Wednesday, 11:00 am: Arrive at the Bayou!  Pick up husbands at New Orleans airport and head into New Orleans, Catholic capital of the South.

Wednesday, 2:00 pm: visit the international shrine of St. Jude to pray for sick family members.  Multi-tasking stop- trying to light candles and pray, give a donation to a homeless couple who needed bus fare, and learn about St. Jude.  Wondering what that tuft of hair (or something) is on top of St. Jude’s head.

Wednesday, 5:00 pm: Visit St. Louis Cathedral on Jackson Square.  Light more candles, say more prayers, and try to figure out the life of Louis.  A true treasure of a site less than a few blocks from Bourbon Street.  One kid comments on the possibility of the confessional boxes being real busy in that part of town.

Thursday, 7:30 am: Chick B (early riser) makes it to 7:30 mass to receive unexpected blessing.   Father Maestri, celebrating the mass that morning, had spent a year in Atlanta at Chick B’s parish.  Former Protestant in her just loved and appreciated his homilies.  He nailed one again that morning.  Hung around to try to say hello, but never saw him.

9:00 am- Breakfast at Cafe du Monde with special entertainment from Hack Bartholomew whose calling is to “lift up the name of Jesus down in New Orleans.”

10:00 am: NOLA food hangover setting in.  Burning hot- not even noon.

11:00 am: Horse and buggy ride in the French Quarter pointing out all the beautiful sites, including the Old Ursuline Convent, once home to the first girls-only school in the United States.

Noon: second meal in less than 2 hours, ignoring onset of food hangover.  Great conversation with business colleague on Catholic culture in the Big Easy.

2:00 pm: Trolley ride to Loyola.  Church of the Holy Name closed for renovation.  This place gives hot new meaning – sweating hot, that is.

Thursday, 7:30 pm: in total denial of food hangover.  Dinner at another one of the Brennan family restaurants.  After dinner, begin planning a water and fruit juice fast once we get home.

Friday, 11:00 am: Husbands back at the airport.  Put kids in car and head across the Lake Ponchartrain bridge to Covington, LA to see Walker Percy’s grave at St. Joseph’s Abbey.
More on Walker Percy later.

Friday night, somewhere along I-65 North: one last meal at the Cracker Barrel on the way home.  All is right with the world.

Chicks A and B

My first foray into gardening ended in complete failure as I killed every plant in my cut flower and vegetable garden.  This was largely due to my inconsistent watering and lack of proper soil preparation.  Several years later, I got up the courage to make another attempt.  The perennial garden met with much more success than the first effort due to the involvement of my husband from the beginning.

However, my desire to plant and grow a vegetable wasn’t satisfied with beautiful perennials.  While recently visiting with Chick B and her family, she began bragging that she was now growing tomatoes!  Hearing this brought back the repressed gardening desire so of course, I became green with envy.   And, I immediately ran off to the local nursery to purchase MY tomato plant!  When I confided all of my gardening insecurities to the nursery employee, (he seemed a little overwhelmed by all of this) he suggested that I also plant herbs in case the tomatoes don’t work out.

Chick B called me a showoff for adding herbs to my garden – I call it insurance.  At least I will have SOMETHING to show for my hard work.  I even bought a jalapeño pepper plant – salsa anyone?

Well, the plants are in the ground . . . watering has been consistent thus far . . . no bugs yet I am happy to report  . . . we will see what happens!

Chick A

Just last month I took my new-found determination to the local nursery and ran into a cheerful woman named Elizabeth Higgenbotham.  I told her my problem, and she had an immediate solution.  “Get a big container,” she said.  “Just plant one tomato plant,” she suggested.  “Don’t worry about fertilizing,” she mentioned.  “Add some basil alongside,” she offered.  Why, she had done all of this and it had worked out fine.  For someone like me with no experience, this was music to my ears.  I took her advice, and home I went.  With occasional watering and no fertilizing, I am doing pretty well so far.

Chick B's lone tomato plant with basil taking over alongside

My husband is in on the act now, apparently.  I caught him watering the lone plant just this afternoon.  I think he wants credit if we actually keep the squirrels away and land a big one.  Chick A also has gotten in on the act over at her house and is trying to steal some of my thunder by planting an herb garden, mint, a jalapeno plant, AND a tomato plant.  Showoff.  We’ll see who harvests what (can’t wait to see if she actually gets jalapeno).

Chick A's tomato plant

Chick A's mint

Chick A's herb garden, including jalapeno

I need to look up the patron saint of gardening and adjust my prayer life accordingly, just to stay in the hunt.  I’ll be waiting and watching – and keeping you posted.

Chick B

The month of May will always be the time that we reflect on our reception into the Church, and what a blessing our reception has been!  From the relief of our first general confession to the on-going graces that the sacramental Catholic life provides, Chick A and I keep pinching ourselves.  Will we ever stop being astonished at the way Christ blesses his followers by giving them the guidance, authority, and rest that comes from becoming a member of the Universal Church?  I hope not.

A few things stand out from our Catholic confirmation several years ago.  First, I’ll never forget the sweet smell and feel of the anointing oil that the priest used to mark our foreheads when we were confirmed and hoisted onto the “Barque of Peter.” I just didn’t want to wash it off- I wished it could stay on forever.  (similar to when someone has shaken the hand of a celebrity and doesn’t want to ever wash that hand…..only better).  The day after the confirmation, I ran into a Catholic friend of mine who commented, “Wow, your face has such a glow and peace about it.”  The first response that came to me was,”The Holy Spirit…..He’s better than Botox!”

I hear that the effectiveness of Botox eventually wears off, and you have to keep going back for more.  While I’m not discounting the possibility of ever having Botox, I think I’ll start with this goal – keep my wrinkles in perspective, save some money, and try to stay in step with the Spirit.  Our Lady of Perpetual Help, pray for me!

Chick “B”

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.  Proverbs 31:30

Flipping through my recipe file the other day, I ran across a recipe card penned in my mother’s hand entitled “Bereavement Casserole.”  I had to chuckle – it got me thinking about how down here in the south . . . food is a part of everything!  When there is an occasion to celebrate – birthdays, baptisms, weddings, baby showers – we throw a party!  Other events in life also require a meal delivered to the doorstep of a friend in need – surgery, illness and a death in the family.

Bereavement casserole is THE casserole that my mother and her sisters make and bring to everyone in need!  It is comfort food at its best.  It can be prepared in a jiffy.  And, it can be easily frozen, thawed and warmed by the recipient.  It goes well with a salad and rolls.

So, the next time you need to serve some comfort food to a friend in need, try “Bereavement Casserole.”

Chick “A”

Ingredients

1 (6 ounce) package long-grain and wild rice

2 ½ cups chicken broth

1 medium onion, chopped

½ cup chopped celery

Butter

4 cups chopped chicken

1 (10 ounce) can sliced water chestnuts, drained

1 (4 ounce) jar pimientos

1 (6 ounce) can mushrooms, drained

1 (10 ¾ ounce) can cream of celery soup, undiluted

1 cup mayonnaise

2/3 cup crushed potato chips

Paprika for garnish

Cook rice in chicken broth until done and set aside.  Sauté’ onion and celery in butter.  Mix chicken, rice, onion, celery, water chestnuts, pimientos, mushrooms, soup and mayonnaise in large casserole dish.  At this point the casserole can be refrigerated and baked later.  Sprinkle with potato chips and paprika.  Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.  Serves 8.

We didn’t set out to “name” our car – it just happened.  Actually, I guess you could say that he “earned” his name.  About two years ago, we were in South Georgia on a hunting trip with Chick B and her family.  The jeep they use for quail hunting broke down, so we had to be resourceful.  All eight of us piled into the Expedition with two dogs, guns and hunting gear.

After the hunt, a conversation ensued regarding how many trips we had taken together in that car since 1997.  (In our family, the official car policy is “Drive it until it dies.”)  The kids of course are opposed to this policy and have been ready for new and improved for some time now.  We were all joking about the fact that this Ford with 200,000 miles just keeps rolling despite the wear and tear.  Chick B’s husband quipped –“yeah that car just keeps rolling like Thunder!”  That day our 1997 Ford Expedition became Thunder.

Thunder has earned his name with nearly 203,000 miles, eleven years of vacations, road trips, errands, countless carpools to school and all with minimal repairs.  Even though it is sappy to say, Thunder is a part of our family.  While our kids are still lobbying for a new car, we have a sneaking suspicion they might be a little sad when Thunder goes to the junk yard.

But for now – Thunder just keeps on rolling . . .

Chick A

According to our kids (both Chicks A’s and B’s), it only takes two years for a tradition to develop.  Their rule in tradition setting goes something like this – you do something one year and it is just a fun event,  but if you continue it the next, it becomes tradition.  So, this year for the Easter Vigil Mass (which we have attended for the last three years with Chick B’s family) the decision had already been made regarding where would eat dinner.

It just so happens that three years ago, we selected Taxco, a small neighborhood restaurant that serves the most delicious Mexican fare.  We chose this establishment for two reasons – convenience,  and our husbands and kids like the food.  Unbeknownst to us at the time, a tradition was born.  So this year there was no need to figure out dinner plans.  We already knew we were going to Taxco.

As my daughter and I were getting ready to go, I mused (out loud) “Don’t you think it is rather odd that we go to a Mexican restaurant to celebrate Easter?”  She glared at me (like I might try and change the plan) and said rather firmly, “No mom – this is tradition.  Besides it all fits just perfectly.  Taxco is a Mexican restaurant; Mexico is a predominately Catholic country; and we are going to Mass to celebrate Easter!”

Follow the logic?  Yes – but a curious tradition no doubt!

Chick A

The day of the game, the atmosphere was electric.  The waiters at our hotel wore Duke shirts as a uniform, balloons decorated the lobby, and men worked furiously to set up large screen tvs before game time.  At one point, I was considering cheering for Duke until I caught a glimpse of a student walking through the restaurant wearing a “Go to Hell Carolina” t-shirt.  Suddenly, all the old feelings of hatred came rushing back.  Some people, who are better people than I, claim to always cheer for any ACC team that makes it to the title game.  Quite frankly, I think that is taking Christian charity a little too far.  I never pull for Duke, ever.  The t-shirt reminded me of the reason.

That night, the Blue Devils went on to beat the Butler Bulldogs by a mere 2 points, and Coach K won his fourth national title at Duke.  My husband went down to the lobby to watch the second half of the game and experience the jubilation of the Duke faithful.  I stayed in the room, pouted, and asked God why He wouldn’t let poor old small-school Butler win a national title, just once.

The next morning, I got up and went to mass to try and get my mind off of Jon Scheyer and onto the Risen Lord.  Pulling into the church parking lot, I had to pass by the Krzyzewski Family Life Center.  It was a stark reminder that I have alot to learn about loving my enemies and even my brothers and sisters in Christ.

Chick B