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an everyday life

Tag Archives: College Sports

Savory Baked Chicken

02 Friday Oct 2009

Posted by Janell in In the Kitchen, Life at Home

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Chicken, College Sports, Cooking, Easy Meals, Family Humor, In the Kitchen, Raising Children, Savory Baked Chicken

To my eternal good, my husband’s first wife discarded her marriage vows for greener pastures.  But liking my husband’s last name so much, Cathy wore her first married name through two subsequent marriages and divorces.  While I don’t know what subsequent husbands thought about her last name souvenir, I can report that husband number one simply shrugs his shoulders and laughs;  Mr. West is glad she found something about him worth keeping.

Thankfully, when wife number one vacated my husband’s life, she left behind a few recipes worth keeping.  This baked chicken recipe is one.  It takes less than an hour to prepare from start to finish, which makes it a perfect meal to whip up after a day at work or school.  We keep it just as simple with the sides — a package of Lipton’s Butter Noodles and maybe some green beans or English peas.

All our kids enjoyed this meal. My husband began preparing it in our early days of marriage, before the boys came along.  Since hubby beat me home from work by an hour, he’d have supper on the table when I walked in the door.  Ohhhh, the memories.  It was a fine arrangement but for the girls; they were use to my cooking, such at it then was.  And being kids stuck in their comfortable groove, there was much gnashing of teeth about their new step-dad’s exotic style of cooking.  To their way of thinking, it was a scary world of Crab Quiche and dishes with ucky mushrooms compared to Mom’s kid friendly fried bologna sandwiches and fried potatoes.  So it’s saying a lot that my girls love this baked chicken recipe from their first bite — well, once my man got smart and ditched the mushrooms.

The meal grew to become our oldest son Bryan’s favorite meal — and when O.U. housing asked all the parents of  incoming freshman for their child’s favorite taste from home, this is the recipe they got from us.  With a grin, I think I called it “Bryan’s Savory Chicken.”  I figured the first Mrs. West wouldn’t mind since she’d taken the same liberties herself, when she wrote the recipe out for her own use way back when.  Our copy of the recipe still lives in a little home-made green binder that my husband received as his parting gift; in Cathy’s long hand written on notebook paper, there at the top of the page, bigger than Dallas, it says:  Cathy’s Savory Baked Chicken.  In parenthesis underneath Chicken, is the name (Brenda C——-.).  In Cathy’s life, it looks like some names were ditched while others are forever hitched.

And who knows but maybe you’ll want to hitch your own name to this recipe.  From my life — in a leftover sort of way — to yours.

Savory Baked Chicken

Serves 3 to 4      Preheat Oven to 400 degrees
 
1 pkg of chicken breasts ( three halves), sliced in half, leaving six thin cutlets
1/2 cup flour
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp paprika
1/4 tsp black pepper
1 tsp basil
6 Tbsp butter
 

Melt butter and add to 9×13 pan.  Combine dry ingredients in a bag or sack, and one cutlet at a time, coat chicken by shaking it until well coated.  Lay chicken in pan, than turn butter-side up for baking.  Bake for 30 mins at 400 degrees.

 
Meanwhile, make a sauce to cover chicken, for final 20 minutes of baking time:
 
4 Tbsp butter
4 Tbsp flour
2 cups hot water with 4 tsp. chicken bullion (can use chicken broth and add salt to taste)
Optional:  Cooked sliced mushrooms, fresh chopped tomatoes and green onions)

In a skillet, melt butter over medium heat.  Stir in flour until bubbly.  Add hot chicken broth and cook until thickened.  After 30 minutes of baking, remove chicken from oven to cover with sauce.  Add vegetables if desired and return to oven for final 2o minutes of baking.   Can serve over rice.

Lake Wanderings

23 Thursday Jul 2009

Posted by Janell in Life at Home, Soul Care

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College Sports, Death, Everyday Life, Raising Children, Soul Care, Travel, Writing

My husband is on his way to Lake Eufala.  I wish I was heading east too.  But  someone has to stay behind to keep our canines corralled, to prevent ‘The  Wild West Show’ from galloping across Mesta Park.  And this time around, that someone is me, though Annie Oakley I am not.  

It’s never easy to say goodbye to Don.  Even for today’s overnight visit.  One might think I would be quite practiced at this art of well-wishing and putting on a brave front at the point of departure.  But maybe saying good-bye is less a fine art than it is a science, for Lord knows, I was never good at science.

The poodles could teach me a thing or two about their science of saying good-bye.  It’s the same formula every time, as Max and Maddie–letting their love hang out for all the world to see–run around in aggitated circles until they finally come to terms with the sad news of impending departure.  Then, in acceptance, they stand up on their hind legs to catch that final glimpse of their departing loved one, as the car backs  out of the driveway.   Just like children, the poodles don’t worry about keeping their true feelings on ice.  Nor do they mind making the dearly departed feel a little like a heel for leaving them behind. 

Sending Don to the lake is my gift to Don and to his Mother.  Monday she called, to say that she and Don’s step-dad were taking Micalea to the lake.   Micaela is Janice’s only great-granddaughter, and as if that isn’t enough to make her special, Micaela is the living legacy of Janice’s favorite grandson Michael.  It’s not fair to have favorites, whether it be children or grandchildren.  But favorites sometimes exist, whether or not openly acknowledged.  And, quoting all moms everywhere: “who said life was fair?”  Or death, for that matter.  Especially the kind that took Mike in a horrible car crash four years ago this December.

The news of the crash made the AP wire, as Mike and his best friend Darrell–who then played for the Oakland Raiders–had played football together at USC.  The AP reporting and all the other articles that sprang up out of the crash created a big splash at first–but as with all concentric circles created by a big splash, the outward edges have grown faint with the passage of time.  But meanwhile, at the dark hole center that swallowed Mike’s life, where those closest to Mike remain to live and love, the wounds of his too early departure are still sharply felt.  By some the wounds of loss are endured silently.  By others not so.     

Yet healing awaits for those who wander away to the lake house, for memories of happier times continue to live at that modest place that sits on a grassy hill overlooking the water.  Most of the year it stands empty, waiting to offer a bit of healing to those who come, an innocent kind of magic born from the mixture of happy children and hot summer days.  The best childhood memories were born into my children at this place.  And I imagine the same was true for Mike, as I recall his happy ten year old face as he skied across the lake twenty-three summers ago.  And while she won’t be skiing, I hope Micaela’s ten year old face is also now glowing with happiness that will one day grow into the loveliest of memories.      

As my mind wanders back in time, I realize that this is Micaela’s second visit to the lake, though her first came courtesy of her mother’s womb.  Don was at the lake that summer too, as Janice was most anxious about Mike marrying at such a young age–for knowing Mike as she did, she feared his plans for a rushed marriage might stem from a sense of duty rather than love–so Don was there to offer his rock-steadying presence.  Of course, once the family met Micaela’s mom, and saw how well she fit in and how well she loved Mike, there was a whole lot less to worry about.   

A part of Mike’s love rests in Micaela.  And eleven years later, a remnant of those who loved Mike surround his daughter, to help her create her own special brand of memories.  Somehow, I hope Micaela’s memory-making will transcend the bounds of time to reach out to wherever her father now plays in eternity.  Maybe spirits of our past selves wander across the face of the lake and maybe our current selves do too, whether they rest in the now or in the forever more.  If so, then I believe Mike and I are gathered at the lake house too, cheering Micaela on as she mixes up a little summer magic, enough that makes us thank God we’re alive in the spirit.  

Blue Moon

30 Monday Mar 2009

Posted by Janell in Life at Home

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Tags

College Sports, Love, OU Sooners

I use to be a fan of college sports, but OU football broke me of the habit, after one too many nail-biting, bowl losing games.  But since my husband enjoys it, I go once in a blue moon.   It’s a sacrifice.  And I go in the biblical way, like a lamb to the slaughter. 

 

Last night was blue moon time—we grabbed an Irma’s burger and drove down to the Ford Center to catch the first two games of the NCAA Women’s Basketball Regional.  Personally, I’d rather have cleaned all forty windows or picked up the neighborhood dog hockey.   

 

The first game was a sleeper, and not in a good way.  More tortoise than the hare, Purdue and Rutgers dribbled the ball sluggishly up and down court as if immersed in chest-high water.  Within five minutes of play, I’d decided this sport was a kissing cousin to synchronized swimming or cross-country skiing, where I’d learned the flip side of athleticism can be hypnoses.  So don’t rely on me for highlights.  I can only report, without knowing when and how, that Purdue managed to pull away to lead Rutgers by as much as sixteen points; And with a few minutes of play remaining, Rutgers eventually whittled the lead within two points, to lose by five.  Or was it three?  Yawn. 

 

The second game began late, shortly before bedtime.  But I was wide awake as soon as OU hit the court; perhaps it was the electricity in the air, or the familiar sounds of the OU fight song or just the contagious excitement of the players themselves.  Whatever it was, I found myself actually caring about these girls and the game’s outcome.

 

There was no place for tortoise shells in this mad dash between two hares.  The girls and the ball ricocheted so quickly around the wood court that it reminded me of a vintage pinball game being played by experts.  It was exciting to watch and a privilege to be there.  To really be present …rather than off in the land of nod.

 

Before last night, I knew next to nothing about OU women’s basketball—I knew Sherri Coale liked to wear Jimmy Choo heels; I’d heard some talk about the ‘the twins’; and after some prompting, I recalled my husband once telling me a story about a new freshmen girl who’d bested a NBA professional in a 3-point shooting match.  After last night, I now know a little more than nothing:  Sherri’s pant hem covers her expensive high heels; the twins have names – Courtney and Ashley – and the pro-besting girl wears the #25 jersey.  I don’t know her name.

 

But who cares about such details?  What matters is that these women, and a few more like them, had me cheering like a real OU fan.  The delusion lasted only until I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.  Because there I was, wearing the wrong school’s colors…. a blue moon in a sea of crimson and cream.   

“Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? — every, every minute?”

-- Thornton Wilder, "Our Town"

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