All righty. The Super Bowl is on, and since we rarely watch the NFL in our house, I’m not really involved in the game. I mean, I want for the guys who played for Mississippi State to do well, and I’m glad that they’re having successful pro careers, but truth be told I’m pretty much just counting down the minutes until it’s time for Downton Abbey.

(By the way, I’m typing this post while wearing my pajamas and sitting on my circa-1965 gold sofa with a blanket wrapped around my legs. So it strikes me as somewhat fitting that I’m biding my time for my “story” to come on PBS. Maybe I can find a couple of re-runs of Barnaby Jones to watch in the meantime.)

(WHICH REMINDS ME: last weekend I was flipping channels when I ran across an episode of Charlie’s Angels. It was from the Kelly / Sabrina / Kris years. And I have to say that the plot wasn’t quite as riveting as it was when I was in elementary school and stayed up to watch Charlie’s Angels re-runs on WGN.)

(Also, they obviously weren’t anticipating a day when viewers would be able to pause their DVRs and clearly see that HEY, THAT STUNT DRIVER REALLY ISN’T KELLY NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT.)

(I was also troubled by how frequently the angels wound up in car chases with shady men who were driving large Ford sedans.)

Anyway.

We had really nice weekend, which was a welcome shift from All The Emotion of our week (and I cannot thank you enough for all of your sweet comments about Ally…I couldn’t get over how many of you also had to say good-bye to animals last week, so I hope you had better weekends, too). Friday night I went with my friend Leslie to hear Kelly Minter teach at a women’s conference in here in Birmingham, and it was so, so good. We went back for the second session Saturday morning, and then I came home so that my people and I could spend the rest of the day together.

After lunch we went to look at washing machines since our house is apparently in the throes of a mid-life crisis (it recently turned 40) and is demanding ALL NEW EVERYTHING. I’m almost scared to recount everything that has had to be replaced in the last year for fear that the dishwasher will read this over my shoulder and decide OKAY! I’M DONE!, so suffice it to say that our washing machine is the most recent home appliance casualty. We can’t really complain, though, because we’ve had our current washing machine for fifteen years, and D has rescued it from certain peril at least twice. So it was time. And the new one gets delivered tomorrow, oh hallelujah.

Saturday I also found out that my friend Elise’s son led his soccer team to the 6A State Championship in Mississippi, and y’all, it has tickled me to no end. His team won 3-0, and I’ll have you know that G scored all three of those goals – WITH HEADERS, NO LESS. I am so proud of him (and of all of Elise’s boys – they are hard-working and funny and handsome and funny and respectful and did I mention that they are really funny?).

OH! OH! Saturday afternoon we went to LifeWay after we looked at washing machines, and MELANIE’S. BOOK. WAS. THERE. In an actual bookstore. I jumped a little and then I took a picture and then I checked on it one more time before we left. Just to see if it needed anything. Like maybe a light snack or a bottle of water.

Make no mistake. I was annoyingly excited.

Saturday night I watched three or maybe even four episodes of Chef Wanted on Food Network. It is FASCINATING. I even got a little teary-eyed at the end of the episodes when someone would walk away with a real-live job, and clearly the first part of this sentence is a strong indicator that I may still be registering on the high end of the emotional sensitivity scale.

After church and Chuy’s and a trip to the grocery store that I could not avoid, I spent most of this afternoon in the kitchen while the boy and one of his friends played outside when they weren’t running back inside for a glass of water or a piece of candy or a different sword or two sheets of paper or grocery bags. It was gorgeous here today, and they had a blast. I made potato skins (in the spirit of the game that I’m not watching) and salad for dinner, and while the potato skins were absolutely delicious – seriously. SO tasty. – they were definitely not a make-in-a-hurry meal. They were more like a make-over-the-course-of-four-hours meal. But they were such a hit that I will probably make them again.

Okay. Now it is time for the Downton. So I’m going to stop talking / writing now. And yes, I realize that this was probably the most boring post in the history of ever, but it was a low-key weekend.

My very favorite kind.

Yesterday we had to say good-bye to a member of our little family.

We’re not really sure how old Ally was – she found us about fourteen years ago when she decided that our street looked like a fine place to stop and rest awhile – so we always pretended like she was an ageless angel dog. She was gentle, patient, loyal, funny (oh yes ma’am was she ever), and as sweet as she could be.

My husband would tell you that she’s one of the best friends he’s ever had.

And our little guy would tell you the exact same thing.

Ally loved chasing a laser pointer, treeing cats (but only in her sleep), curling up on a Costco dog bed, waiting to see what might fall from the kitchen table, riding to school with Alex, indulging in an occasional plain McDonald’s cheeseburger, and sleeping in our foyer so that she could keep an eye on the whole house. She also cultivated an impressive appreciation for white bread.

She was the best dog. And from the time she found us until the time she left us, she brought us so much joy.

We will miss her like crazy.

Here’s a collection of stuff I’ve loved reading / looking at / pinning / etc. and so on and so forth.

– The Day I Went To A Brothel by Debra Parker – If your heart has been craving some words that are full of grace and conviction and hope, here they are.

– one thing we’re waiting for (and why it’s time to stop) by Emily Freeman – There’s such a gentleness to Emily’s writing, and I especially love the way she handles our tendency to compare and feel left out.

– One my struggles with politics and some of our current social issues is that more often than not it seems like no one ever takes time to listen – really, deeply listen – to the other side. Plus, I get tired (just being honest) of hearing what and who people are against as opposed to what and who they’re for. It seems like somewhere along the way we’ve gotten so consumed with our agendas that we’ve decided that it’s no longer necessary to be kind – and we’ve forgotten that we can love people even if we disagree with them.

(I’m totally talking to myself in that last sentence, by the way.)

(Maybe that’s one reason the tone of some of our national discussions makes me so crazy – because I see parts of myself that I CANNOT STAND.)

Last night on Facebook my friend Jennifer linked to an article about a gay activist’s unexpected friendship with Dan Cathy, the COO of Chick-fil-A. And y’all? I cried when I read it. Can’t stop thinking about it, in fact.

– Because I am very academic and fancy, I wrote a post about this season of The Bachelor over at Ree’s blog (and listen, it was my great joy to spend some time focusing on The Bachelor after the emotional trauma of Downton Abbey on Sunday night). Anyway, if you have some amaaaaaazing thoughts about this group of amaaaaaaazing girls, feel free to chime in.

– Ten grown men have been playing a game of tag for 23 years, and IT. SOUNDS. AWESOME. And mildly terrifying. But mostly awesome. (via)

– Melanie’s book, the very, very funny Sparkly Green Earrings, releases next Friday. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that. :-)

– Sometimes I act like I’ve forgotten this (available on Etsy):

It’s good to remember.

When I was nine or ten years old, I watched a made-for-TV movie called Champions: A Love Story. It starred Jimmy McNichol and Joy LeDuc, and even though I have never seen any other performance by Joy LeDuc in the thirty-plus years since Champions: A Love Story, her name is forever etched in my memory because that movie marked me. It was the first time that I wept uncontrollably while watching TV. And honestly? I think I grieved that movie for a solid week. I just couldn’t get past it – it was too much sadness for my fourth grade heart to take.

(And listen. I have no idea why I was watching a made-for-TV movie when I was nine years old.)

(I also watched Dallas and Knots Landing.)

(All I can say is that I was the youngest child by ten years. My parents must have been exhausted.)

Anyway, I have always thought that Champions was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen on TV. Well, that and the time Laura died on Knots Landing, which happened when I was in high school and somewhat more capable of dealing with TV tragedy. And even now, if you were to lock me away in a room and force me to watch an endless loop of Champions, Laura’s death scene, and Terms of Endearment, I’m pretty sure that I would cry until I fainted or at the very least hyperventilated in a most unflattering fashion.

But as of last night, we can add one more contender to the aforementioned list.

Because last night? The fourth episode of Downton Abbey season three looked Champions: A Love Story straight in the eyes, motioned for it to come a little closer, then pointed its finger and said, “Have a seat, amateurs. And watch THIS, Joy LeDuc.”

Oh, people.

HERE COME ALL THE SPOILERS HERE COME ALL THE SPOILERS HERE COME ALL THE SPOILERS

ONE MORE WARNING ABOUT THE SPOILERS

I should’ve known, really, as soon as the doctor said that Sybil was doing great and everything looked normal and her body was doing exactly what it was supposed to do. I SHOULD’VE KNOWN. But it wasn’t until the two doctors got into a shouting match – with Lord and Lady Grantham taking different sides – when the part of my brain that has seen way too much episodic television started to think, Oh. I fear that this is not going to end well.

And that scene? With Tom bawling his eyes out on one side of the bed while Lady Grantham begged her baby girl to live? BRUTAL. All I could do was just shake my head and cry. Because who’s kinder than Sybil? Who’s more gentle and more loving than she is? I can’t remember what Mrs. Hughes’ exact words were, but she said something along the lines of “She was the sweetest spirit of anyone in this house.” AND SHE WAS, Y’ALL.

(Yes, I know that she’s fictional character. But just indulge me because clearly I’m having a bit of a moment.)

So anyway. I just needed to share in my TV sufferings a little bit this morning. Because no kidding: my feet had barely hit the floor this morning when I thought about what happened in last night’s episode, and I pretty much wanted to crawl right back between my covers.

And though it wasn’t at all intentional, I just realized that I’m wearing lots of black today.

Have mercy.

I had only been married a year or two, I think, when Oprah started doing a segment called “Remembering Your Spirit” at the end of her shows. I actually have pretty vivid memories of that particular season of “Oprah” because we’d just bought our first house, and whenever I’d sit in my very own living room and watch an episode of “Oprah” on my very own television set, I felt a little bit like I thought grown-ups were supposed to feel. Granted, a lot of the “Remembering Your Spirit” stuff struck me as kind of New Age-y, but every once in awhile there would be an idea or a story that would strike a chord with me.

One afternoon Oprah used that last segment of the show to talk about the importance of creating a “personal space” in your home, and she featured a woman who carved out a space for reading in the corner of her bedroom. There was a beautiful chair, a pretty lamp, a few favorite books, a good candle, and a blanket. It was nothing fancy, but the woman alluded to the fact that after the push and pull of a busy day, that little space had become her sanctuary, a place where she could wind down and read and recharge.

When the show was over that day, I thought something along the lines of Well, that sounds very fancy. Even still, I’d think about that little space when I’d rearrange a room or shop for a new piece of furniture. At the time, though, I just didn’t see a need for a place in my house where I could sit and read and journal and drink my coffee. I wasn’t exactly in a routine with my quiet time back then, and if I wanted to read, I’d just pile up in the bed and read. Or pile up on the couch and read. Or pile up in the guest room and read.

It was a simpler time.

Once I became a mama, though, I started to identify with that need for a “space” – just one little area of our house that I could claim as my own. I tried making an office area in our bonus room, but the chair up there was really uncomfortable, and I had to turn my back on the room in order to sit there (a terrible idea when there’s a toddler running around). Once we moved in this house, I tried the office thing again, thinking it would be a great place for reading and devotion times – but I realized that I didn’t like being confined to a desk. I moved a chair into the room off of our kitchen, but it was really low and kind of awkward for coffee drinking and Bible study. I finally piled all my books and Bibles on the breakfast room table, and I’d just shove it all in a chair when I was finished.

Sometime last spring, though, I started sitting on the little gold sofa in the room off of our kitchen when I’d do my Bible study homework. I bought the sofa at an estate sale in my hometown, and it’s probably my favorite piece of furniture in our house, mainly because it makes me feel connected to the place where I grew up. Eventually I started sitting there in the mornings – in those sacred 30 minutes when I am the only one who’s awake – and I found a little table that’s just big enough for a stack of books and a cup of coffee. I sit there most Saturday mornings, too, when I have the luxury of extra time to read or study or catch up on various Interweb shenanigans, and I sit there late at night, when everybody else is asleep and I want to get a little writing done.

I haven’t really thought about it very much, but early yesterday morning, when I made my way to my corner of that sofa (with coffee in hand, of course), it dawned on me that that little spot is my sanctuary.

I didn’t plan it that way, but oh, do I ever love it. Even when I’m greeted by a Nerf hatchet that someone forgot to put away.

What’s your favorite place in your house?

Yesterday we celebrated my husband’s birthday (which also happens to be his brother’s birthday *and* my friend Bubba’s birthday, so I always feel like I have lots to celebrate on January 23rd), and as we finished our traditional birthday meal of country fried steak, rice and gravy, baby lima beans and tres leches cake (oh, it’ll raise your cholesterol by a solid fifteen points by the time the sun rises the next morning), it occurred to me that I have never shared my favorite country fried steak recipe with you.

I do hope you can forgive this grievous omission.

I mean, I don’t know if country fried steak speaks to you the way it speaks to the people in my family, but in my opinion it is right behind fried chicken in terms of FRIED MEAT TREATS. It’s not the kind of thing that I want to eat every week, but two or three times a year? OH, YES MA’AM.

So here’s how I make country fried steak, which is also called chicken fried steak in some places. However, I think of chicken fried steak as being dipped in a batter, and that’s not really what you do with this country fried steak recipe. Only now I’m over-explaining. And when I start over-explaining, I inevitably start screaming “SIMMER DOWN, MAMAW” in my head. So let me take a few deep breaths and see if I can get through this recipe without burdening you with all the subpoints of my meat-selection process when I’m standing at the butcher’s case.

(SIMMER DOWN, MAMAW.)

All righty. Here you go. And unfortunately I don’t have any pictures of the process, mainly because posting pictures with a recipe requires “planning” and “foresight” and “thoroughness.”

Country Fried Steak (modified from about four different recipes)

First of all, you’re going to need a large-ish non-stick skillet and a couple of pie plates. It’s good to know that in advance if you like to get all your utensil ducks in a row before you start cooking.

Ingredients:

6 pieces cube steak
2 eggs, beaten
1/2 cup whole milk
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 sleeve Saltine crackers, crushed
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon chili powder
1/8 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 cup Canola oil
2 tablespoons butter
salt and pepper to taste

Lightly salt and pepper each piece of cube steak. Set aside. Mix eggs and milk together, then pour into one of the pie plates. In the second pie plate, combine flour, crushed crackers, black pepper, salt, chili powder, and garlic powder.

Heat skillet to medium heat, then add oil and butter. Once the butter has melted, reduce heat a little bit (so that the butter doesn’t brown or burn), and get ready to fry up some meat.

Put a piece of cube steak in flour mixture, making sure to press the mixture into the meat so that the cracker crumbs attach. Do this for each side of the steak, then dip in egg mixture, and then give the meat one more dredge in the flour mixture. Shake off excess and then put meat in the skillet. Repeat with two more cube steaks (I cook three steaks at a time in my skillet, but you want to make sure that the meat isn’t crowded). After about six minutes, flip the steaks, and allow them to cook for six more minutes. Depending on your stove, you may need to adjust the heat one way or another. The oil in the skillet should be sizzling but not smoking.

Once the first three steaks are done, place them on a paper towel to drain and repeat the dredging process with the other three. You may need to add a little bit more oil and butter to your pan, so make sure that any new oil is hot before adding the next round of steaks.

After all the meat is done, you can reserve a couple of tablespoons of the grease (I know. It’s kind of gross to think about it, but OH, IT IS TASTY.) and make homemade gravy. With two tablespoons of leftover oil and butter in your skillet and the heat turned to the low end of medium, sprinkle flour (about two or three tablespoons) in the skillet and stir to combine. Make sure that you don’t have any lumps. The mixture will bubble a little bit, and once it becomes a light caramel color, stir in about a cup and a half of whole milk, along with salt to taste and a fair amount of freshly ground black pepper.

The gravy will start to thicken in a minute or so, and once it’s close to the consistency that you like, remove the skillet from the heat and set it aside. It will continue to cook and thicken a little bit. Most importantly, taste it again and season accordingly – because there is nothing worse than some bland gravy. Nobody wants gravy that tastes like paste on top of their country fried steak and rice, you know?

So there you have it. A recipe and no small amount of rambling.

I really need to work on that rambling thing.

I’ll think about that tonight when we’re having leftover country fried steak for supper.

Enjoy, y’all!