West Texas Mama

When Number One Son was about four, he asked me to go on a date with him.  To say I was pleasantly surprised would be an understatement.  I thought he was perhaps the most handsome thing I had ever seen, the spitting image of his daddy.  As he looked up at me with those big brown eyes, I said, "Absolutely, I would be honored!"   He grinned and went back to playing. Date night came and his daddy helped him get all dressed up.  He was very concerned about how he was going to pay and insisted I give him the money.  So, I did.  I asked if he was going to drive, and he enthusiastically agreed.  I had to then inform him that the State of Texas might frown upon that, but he could open my door like a gentleman.  His daddy helped strap him into his carseat, and my date and I got on the road.  Having recently discovered Olive Garden spaghetti, he decided we should go there.  We entered the restaurant and he went to the hostess stand ...

I know I keep promising I am going to post more frequently.  I try, I really, really do.  But life gets away from me.  What with chasing kids, pigs, and dogs, making sure we get to karate, basketball practice, and oh yeah, work, this blog tends to fall by the wayside. But, I've been toying with an idea - I get a lot of requests from friends for recipes.  I am thinking maybe I will turn West Texas Mama into a pseudo-recipe site.  Maybe I will struggle less with coming up with things I can share at moments I am too exhausted to share them. That said, I made Pork Street Tacos tonight.  I can't take complete credit- a very dear friend name Christy J. told me she had used El Hubbo's smoked pulled pork and come up with something like this.  I didn't have her exact recipe, but here is what I threw together.  And Y'all.  I mean Y'all, y'all, y'all.  (That's West Texas Mama for DADGUMIT THAT IS GOOD.) Oh, and I should probably clarify my st...

Recently, there was a little holiday wherein the common practice is to exchange gifts.  I usually take on the role of my dad's elf during these times, and this year was no exception.  After I solemnly promised to act incredibly surprised by his thoughtfulness and generosity in the selection of my gift, I proceeded to purchase myself on his behalf a gift card to DSW Shoe Warehouse.  The holiday came and I opened my gift and exclaimed with glee, "Dad!  You shouldn't have!  I LOVE IT!"  And he smiled with self-satisfied pleasure and asked, "Great!  I am so glad!  What did I get you?" A couple days later I showered and prepared to reenter general society.  I applied makeup, kind of blowdried my hair and grabbed my gift card.  Off to DSW I went! I am not generally much of a shopper.  I am a buyer.  I know what I want, I walk into the store, I go directly to the target item, I pick it up, I walk to the register, I pay for the i...