The Deviled Egg Debacle of 2011

By Charmin Foth

For those of you who know me, housewifery is not my strong suit.

Don’t get me wrong, I can clean and do laundry with the best of them, but when it comes to all things kitchen, it’s scary. I’m not saying I can’t cook. I can, and generally the things I make are edible, even tasty. I would say I’m better at baking, but that’s not entirely true either. And sharp objects, don’t even get me started. They banned me from the kitchen of the church where I used to attend, because of a little accident cutting apples at a church sleepover. Let’s just say, life with me is never boring.

The church where we attend was having a church picnic and someone suggested that I make deviled eggs. Since we have chickens and usually an abundance of eggs, I thought, “cool, I can do that, no problem.” Ha, I should have known better.

My wonderful hubby, helped me out by boiling the eggs and putting them in the fridge for me. That way I could make the deviled eggs at my convenience after I got home from work. (I really think he is afraid for me to use the stove.)

Well, after a day of crazy work and errands, I open the door and see the pesky boiled eggs staring at me when I open the refrigerator door. So I sigh, and set myself about the task of making deviled eggs. I get all my ingredients out, a mixing bowl, a big wooden spoon and then I spy a long forgotten gadget hiding in the drawer with the mixer, my cookie gun. Yes, I said, cookie gun.

I thought, “Oh! That will make fancy work of these eggs, I’ll be done in no time.” Ha, again.

I prep the eggs, mix all the ingredients and I’m ready to fill the cookie gun with the yummy egg filling. There are several different options for how I want the mix to fill the eggs. there is an attachment for making Christmas tree cookies, stars and all sorts of cookie shapes and then there are attachments for cake decorating, like rose petals and ribbons and such. So I thought, “Hmmm, egg filling is kind of thick so lets go with the one that has a wide star shaped opening.”

 Sounds easy enough, so I set it up, and load the egg filling into the gun. Here’s where it gets interesting…
The first few eggs looked beautiful, and then nothing so I keep pressing the trigger on the gun. Rapid fire, is never a good idea.

Before I knew it, so much pressure had built up in the cookie gun, that it exploded deviled egg filling across the kitchen counter top and it ricocheted all over me. I was covered in deviled eggs. I looked like I had been spackling a very colored ugly room.

Not all of the egg concoction fit into the gun, I still had enough to fill the eggs I had, so I thought, “all is not lost, I can still make this work.” So I wiped the egg off the counter and me. For some reason, I still thought the cookie gun was a good idea. All I can say, looking back, is duh. Anyway, I changed the decorating tip on the cookie gun to different tip, thinking the star pattern was the problem.

It wasn’t. The problem is that pickle relish gets stuck in the little prongs of the decorating tips and causes a huge back up in the gun. And it has serious repercussions to the one wielding the weapon. I don’t know if I will ever get all the egg out of my spiky hair. It is now brown, silver and yolk colored.

Ah, but alas, I am not one to give up. I must have a persistence gene that just won’t allow me to give up on things. I think it has plagued me all of my life, now that I think about it. At any rate, I still had egg goo left and I was determined I was going to get the gun to work or die trying.

I did get the gun to work. I took the decorator tip off all together and it worked like a charm, and I had just enough egg filling left to fill all the eggs. However, there was a drawback to this methodology, without the pretty decorator edges, my eggs looked like little yellow piles of dog poop. Yumm! How appetizing is that?!

So I’m home all alone, looking at these eggs, and laughing my butt off. I have truly lost it. I can’t serve dog poop eggs to the people at church, or can I? Hummmm. So I got a little spoon and smashed all the little piles down and swirled them around and covered them with paprika. Maybe, maybe not, I can’t decide, take them don’t take them? I’m the only one who knows they looked like dog poop for a short time in their lives. Andy may get to eat a lot of deviled eggs, and then he’s going to have to sleep in the barn.

The moral of the story is, use a spoon, unless you are authorized to use the gun.

Thanks for reading.

This Roller Coaster Life…

Well, I must apologize for being slack in my blogging for the past few months. The only excuse I can give is life. It seems that lately I have had an over abundance of life coming at me from all directions. I know I am not the only person in the world that feels this way. But sometimes don’t you just want to scream, “hey, slow this planet down, I want to get off now.” As if life were a ride at an amusement park, and you had too much funnel cake for your own good.

This week life has been just like that. A roller coaster of ups and downs so severe they take your breath away and knock you back in your seat. My work life is always hectic, but when our office manager quit, work became more intense. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, I am a public relations and marketing manager for a manufacturer of specialized therapy equipment for people with mobility issues. It is an amazing piece of technology called the Quadriciser Motorized Therapy System. My job is multi-faceted, I get to travel and meet some truly amazing people in my work, I get the opportunity to be creative and steer our marketing into the 21st century, but when you work for a small company, you wear many hats and sometimes it can be overwhelming.

If work were the only part of my struggle, there would be some stress but I could deal with it. I was a military wife for years, and as long as no one is shooting at my husband, I’ve always felt I could roll with just about anything. So work stress would be the kiddie version of the roller coaster. It looks intimidating when you 5, not when your 8. Do you know what I mean?

But then, you add the stress of an aging mother, (who I love greatly, but is as stubborn as the day is long, and no matter how you explain it, she still won’t take the medication she is suppose to, like it’s prescribed), the stress of your own health scare and a need to get healthy before things get out of control, the stress of a leaky roof, (that will have to be completely replaced), a lawn mower that decided it wanted to be separated from its gas tank, so it just fell apart, (and we really need a tractor to cut the grass on a farm not a mower) and as of tonight, a refrigerator that just went kaput, all those things in very close proximity to each other, and none of the money to do anything about any of it…well that has put me on the Big Daddy of Roller Coasters this week. All those downs make me want to get off this ride and run screaming from the park. Not to mention, they are exhausting. I need a nap just writing about it.

However, without the downs of my roller coaster ride, I could never truly appreciate the ups of my roller coaster ride. The ups are like soaring on eagle’s wings. Without the troubles, I would never appreciate the positive aspects of my life. I have a Father who loves me regardless of troubles and in spite of all I have done wrong in this world, I have a husband who is my best friend who cares what I think and appreciates me for who I am and loves me even when I am rotten, I have a mother who I get the privilege of embracing as she imparts her wisdom and love on me and I cherish these times because I know she won’t be here forever, I have a church family and friends who will pray with me when I’m scared, confused and when I cry out to God for guidance or grace, I have a good job and boss who appreciates the work I do, I have a home with a warm bed and food to eat. Wow, not a bad life. How many people have less than that at this very moment?

Without the perspective the of the Ups, the Downs look devastating with no end in site. We can’t always be on the Up, but we can know that when the Downs happen, an Up can’t be far behind. I hope my trials and tribulations this week can encourage you to know you are not alone in your daily struggles. We all are on this ride together. Some days its the kiddie roller coaster and others its the Big Daddy roller coaster. Whichever it is, appreciate it, throw your hands up and laugh, this ride goes by to fast.

Thanks for reading. HUGS!

O Christmas Tree…

By Charmin Foth

After two weeks of having my tree up with only lights on it, I have finally gone into the depths of the root cellar of this old house to carefully pull out the foot locker full of ornaments to adorn my tree.

The day after Thanksgiving marked the 26th Annual Fantasy of Trees, a fundraiser for the East Tennessee Children’s Hospital. It is a veritable winter wonderland of all things Christmas, especially the trees. With over 300 trees beautifully decorated by companies and designers from all over Knoxville up for adoption, it is enough to give any one tree envy. There are so many beautiful trees decorated with themes, and color coordinated to match any decor.

I know why they call it Fantasy of Trees. Every year I think, “Oh, look at that one, I would love that tree,” or, “Wouldn’t that be beautiful in our living room?”

But when I go home and start to set up the tree and begin to pull out all of my ornaments I look at my tree in a whole new light. My Christmas tree becomes a portal into the past. Each decoration reminds me of something or someone special.

I have photo ornaments of the first years of my relationship with my husband. When I hang those on the tree I remember the excitement of our relationship as it was just beginning to bud into something amazing.

I have ornaments from when we were stationed in Germany for three years, and all the places I had the opportunity to travel during that time. I have one of the bridge houses in Bad Kreuznach where we lived, one for each year we were there.

I have tiny wooden shoes from Holland, hand painted pottery bells from Poland, hand painted, hand blown glass ornaments from the Czech Republic, a tiny Eiffel Tower from Paris, France and a little 2000 from being there for the Millennium fireworks in Paris on New Year’s Eve. I have a miniature coo-coo clock from the Black Forest in Germany.

I also have ornaments from friends and they remind me that friends are precious things, never to be forgotten.

So I may not have the designer, color coordinated tree, with all the fancy matching ornaments and the perfect angel on top. My tree may not be a shining artistic example but I have a colorful kaleidescope of memories, carefully hung on branches amid twinkling lights that I would not trade for all the designer trees out there.

Each ornament has a memory that takes me back in time, and gives me the opportunity to reflect and give thanks for the blessings that have passed through my life so far.

I can’t wait to see what new memory I’ll hang on the tree next year.

Merry Christmas!

Hello Again Readers…

It’s been a while since I’ve written in the public forum. I am sure I am a little rusty, but hey, let’s see where this leads.

Since my exodus from the paper, I have had several people ask me to write again. It’s not like I actually stopped writing, I do it every day at work, it is just a little different. Now I am the one sending out the press releases instead of wading through them to see what is noteworthy.

For those of you who wanted me to blog, I hope I don’t disappoint you. I’m sure a lot of my ramblings will talk about my faith, if that bothers you, change the channel. For those of you who know me, I am who I am and I make no apologies for that. If you know me, you also know I’m not perfect and I don’t claim to be. I have done many, many things that I am not proud of but I can only hope that I have learned from them. I may share some of those lessons as we travel along this path, we’ll see.

Sometimes I have been called the Queen of Too Much Information so be aware that I will say things that may you may not want to know. I have tried to improve with age. I have been told that if you don’t want to know my opinion then don’t ask me. I don’t that was meant as a compliment, but I took it as one. In any case, I will do what my hubby, Andy, usually does when he meets someone new. I will apologize before-hand.

Here goes. Dear readers, I will at some point offend your sensibilities, for that I apologize now.

Just so you know my husband is the King of Too Much Information and the Duke of Inappropriate Conversation.  He has a good heart, but there is no stop between his brain and his mouth. I am sure he will be the topic of much conversation. He is a great source of material. I’m just glad he loves me and knows me well enough to understand my ramblings.

Many people say I am too nice and I always look at life with an optimistic attitude. To that I say, I am diplomatic, not necessarily nice but I try. Life is too short to spend it angry, I’d rather laugh. As for my outlook on life, I have an odd perspective, one that usually takes some explaining, and that can make things interesting.

Well, I hope I can share some laughter and enough strange perspective with this writing endeavor to keep you interested. Thanks for tuning in and not changing the channel, yet. I’ll post again soon.

Thanks for reading.