from my kitchen - home made pizza

To think last week end we were walking around Washington DC and the weather was beautiful, spring like even! Today one week later it is cool and nasty out, last night it dipped down into the thirties here. In some parts of Northern Virginia today they say...SNOW! wow.

So what to do?

I say make home made dough, fire up the kitchen's oven, break out the pizza stone and make some pizza!

There is NOTHING better then the aroma of fresh dough rising in the kitchen on a cold rainy day, let me tell you! It brings back wonderful memories of my grandparents. Have I every mentioned that my Popa was a baker and that Nana loved to bake pies and bread after he passed?

It is one of my fondest memories of childhood. Mmmm, I can close my eyes and just conjure up that smell in my brain and the feel of the dough  and my grandmothers hands in mine teaching me how to kneed and work the dough.

But now things have changed. I have my trusty Kitchen-aid mixer with dough hook to do most of my work for me! All I have to do is choose the right flour ( King Arthur Flour- my personal preference and I have not been compensated for the shout out to the King ) and make sure I add the right amount of water, yeast and salt and in the right order. The amount of flour when it comes down to it really is a feel thing I might add...

"swim charlie swim" - when dogs pee to much

Do you have funny stories from your childhood that just make you laugh? I have tons of them actually, most from my days on the beach and my friends on the block. We had some good times during the summers of my childhood. Maybe you missed the story of my friend Mary and I as we watched the neighbor boys tie their Nanny up in the yard and cut her hair off in a friendly game of cowboys and Indians? You can read it here if you missed it girls-and-indians.

I was thinking today of another story this one had to do with a bunch of dogs who liked to pee on the fence A LOT!

My dogs names were Major and Smokey and my Aunt and Uncle's dog was named Duke; they were all Shepherds.My friend Mary lived right next door and there was a chain linked fence separating our yards, her much smaller dog was named Charlie Brown. The dogs, all male would wile away the hours rotating peeing on the fence, one after another like a ballet.

One night Mary and I were sitting at the curb directly in front of the gate to her yard. And there to our right was the four male dogs having their nightly pee fest. Then we heard a noise to the left, the neighbor on the other side had company, oh their company had a dog. OH SHIT it was a big dog a Great Dane.

We watched as if in slow motion as little Charlie Brown made his way over to the fence and started to lift his leg. The giant Great Dane did the same and poor Charlie Brown didn't know what hit him as pee rained down all over his little brown little body.

Then as if out of the blue from the doorway behind us we heard Mary's mother in a soft voice dripping with disgust say calmly but with humor that was hard to miss, " swim Charlie swim, swim Charlie swim." 

We sat on the curb and just giggled and giggled; I'm not sure what was funnier that Charlie was soaked with pee or that Mary's mother thought that the whole thing was so darn funny. We were maybe thirteen at the time and Mom's were not funny EVER then!

How about you; cute memories of childhood or favorite pet stories that you remember and would like to share?

girls and indians

We want to know what, from your childhood, do you still know by heart? Is it a story? A jump-roping song? The number of rungs on the ladder to your tree house? How much money you had to save to buy something you really wanted?

Mary and I giggled as we crouched down and peeked to see the goings on in the yard across the street. We had a bird's eye view from the second floor porch of my parent's house at the beach. As we popped our heads over the edge of the porch we could see over the fence where Francis, Michael and Patrick were playing cowboys and Indians with their nanny, she was the lone cowboy. 


I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was about to witness something naughty; and I was right. The nanny complied as the boys tied her to the flag pole in the middle of the yard. We really wanted to yell out to her," Margaret, don't let them do it," but we didn't want to give away our hiding place on the porch overlooking the yard. 

Then one of the boys ran into the house and returned to the yard with a pair of scissors. To our horror we watched as they cut off her long pony tail; snip! Then they attached her hair to another much smaller pole waving it wildly whooping and hollering as they danced Indian style around her. 


"Do you believe what we just saw?" "I can't believe they just did that," we exclaimed to one another. We hid behind the concrete wall of that porch and covered our faces as the feeling of disbelief washed over us.


What was going to happen if the grown-ups found out we didn't stop them, we were older after all; maybe we should have told. Then self-preservation set in; we shared a knowing look then we bolted down the stairs as fast as our tanned legs could carry us away from the scene of the crime.

Running was easier then telling at least in the minds of two twelve year old girls.


Mary and I have been friends for 45 years, her brother Steve my brother Gerard and Francis (the oldest Indian) are still great friends as well. When we all are together we tell this story; it is part of our repertoire of our childhood antics stories. 


And Margaret? She went back to Ireland and was replaced by Mary a more seasoned Nanny who was better equipped to deal with the Indians boys!