The. Best. Cornbread. Ever.

On Thanksgiving I was given the delightful treat of homemade cornbread. 
Now I'd had cornbread several times in my childhood.  I don't recall it being a common occurrence; I don't recall anyone in my family particularly fond of it.  I was only interested in any type of honey butter (with my sweet addiction)....and was always disappointed that the bread (which suspiciously resembled a yellow cake when baked) proved to be nonsweet.

Imagine my surprise when I bit into this cornbread.....I never knew cornbread could have REAL CORN in it.  I absolutely love corn but seldom have it, knowing it processes as a sugar.

Still, I will be making this for my birthday instead of cake.  It is THAT good!
Deb gave me the recipe but you can see it is rather skeletal. 

 

DEB'S CORNBREAD

 

1 can whole corn, drained

1 can creamed corn

1 Jiffy box  corn muffin mix

1/2 stick butter

1 cup sour cream

 

350 degrees oven

Mix all, bake 45 minutes, last five minutes add shredded cheese, melt, serve!

 

I'm going to try mine in a 9x9 glass pan, buttered.

Deb doubles this recipe for family gatherings or potlucks.  She gets requests for it all the time.   

Two Decades

Happy Birthday, Dear Daughter.
Many happy returns of the day----I wish you well.

To a Safe Place

     I am flying high------after an amazing morning.  I did a ton of errands and was on my way to the hospital (lab tests).  I needed to get gas first so went to my credit union for the ATM.
     As I was putting in my code I heard a "whoosh" sort of like the sound of a waterfall...then looked up and saw that my engine was smokin' something fierce.  I turned the car off and tried to end the transaction----in my panic I think I determined that wasn't possible so I finished the transaction and noticed a vehicle behind me.
     I turned the car back on and drove about 20 feet to the back of the parking lot.  I turned it off and fought tears...pretty much, without fail, I have had car trouble in safe places.  I realized I was fifteen minutes away from having been on a state road in the middle of nowhere. 
     I called my mechanic from my cellphone and left a message.  I then took everything with me that I was going to take to the hospital and went into the credit union.  A lovely perk of a small town is that I know a lot of people in businesses; the manager drove me the mile home.  By the time I got into the apartment I was downright giddy.  If I could have, I would have fallen to the floor and kissed the carpet (ewww).  I was so happy to be in my own home, happy dog to greet me, my bills in the mail and safe and snug.
     I often think about how far-reaching God's love is.  I am more than content with how protective of my safety He is...and will rest there.

POST SCRIPT:
My mechanic and his wife went to the credit union, IN A LIGHTNING STORM, and checked out the car.  When they'd come to my place first I gave him some cash for antifreeze, which is what I lost in the ATM line.
When they returned with my car the wife handed me the change----"just a hose that came loose, all it needed was antifreeze....."
So I wanted to kiss the carpet again.  The God I serve-----is amazing!!

POST POST SCRIPT:
I spoke with my friend (mechanic's wife) the next morning, thanking them again for their incredible help. She chuckled and said, "well I have a story that made my family's hair stand on end.  When I went to give you the change back, and you said keep it,
when I got back in the car I counted it.
Earlier in the week my husband and I found some great deals on little things for the girls for Christmas.  We are leaving for a trip as a family, and I told the Lord that I was dipping into the travel money to buy these little things, and that I would have to rely on Him to replace the money.
When I counted the cash you gave me it was the same amount I had spend."

God is the ultimate economist.  Yowza.

Starting Over

     I've just ripped out half a knitted sock.  It was a very hard decision for me; I know the hours it took to knit as far as I did.  However, it became clear that the sock would be looser than I like.  So I took a deep breath and ripped it out.
     Now I am happy; I've started over and feel like I set things aright. In my early decades this would have been torture for me.  In my perfectionism I would have groused and grumbled until I was passed the point from which I had to  originally rip out. 
    I am content with starting over, knowing that the choice to fix it was good.  Not worrying that the original choice had been off.
    I wish I'd learned this earlier in life in regards to relationships.  The chance to start over in any area of life, profound or inconsequential, is a gift indeed.