The Swing

I just wanted to share one of my fundamentally favorite paintings.  It is by Jean-Honore Fragonard in the Rococo period, I believe.  It's titled "The Swing" and was requested by the Baron. 

I absolutely love the soft colors and swirls of the foliage framing the picture.  The tone alone creates a very romantic and dramatic setting. 

Now, the reason I do not own a copy of this is because of the conotations and story behind it.  I just can't get on board with the scandulous nature behind it.  So, in case you were curious, here's the scoop.

Like I mentioned earlier, this painting was commissioned by the Baron.  The young lady on the swing was to represent his mistress and the man pushing her was a bishop.  The bishop was later replaced with the woman's husband, who is unknowing of the Baron himself sneaking a peek up the woman's dress.  The shoe flying off her foot represents loosing her innocence as she permits the Baron to gaze at her womanhood. The cherub in the garden has a finger placed over his lips as to reference the secret affair taking place.  There are more hidden conotations that I will not explain for the blushing that has already overtaken my face.

Lazy Chile Rellenos

I made Lazy Chile Rellenos for dinner last night, even though they are suited better for breakfast.  I had them again for breakfast this morning and it was the perfect way to start my day.  If you have a picky eater in the house, like my husband who won't eat peppers, half the recipe so you don't have so much left over.  Here's it is:

Ingredients

8 whole peeled green chiles (I get mine at WalMart in a can)

1-1/2 cups Montery Jack cheese, grated (more as needed)

5 eggs

2 cups whole milk

salt and pepper to taste

1/2 tsp. paprika

1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.  Mix together eggs, milk, salt, pepper, paprika and cayenne.

Cut chilies in half and remove the seeds.  Add a single layer of chilies on the bottom of a 9 x 13-inch baking dish.Top chilies with half the grated cheese. Repeat with another layer of chilies and another layer of cheese.

Pour egg mixture all over the top.  Place into a larger baking dish or rimmed baking sheet. Pour in 1/2 inch of water and bake for 35 to 45 minutes, or until completely set.

Cut into squares and serve with warm corn tortillas!

Triple Homicide

Okay, so this dream I had last night is very distrubing, at least the parts I can remember.  It's mostly a jumbled mess in my head still.  If you don't want to hear a gruesome story, don't read this.

It was around the 4th of July and I was at a retreat with several people I had never met before.  There were four of us girls and two guys. We were all staying in a cabin together that had a couple of rooms.  One of the girls, a very pretty blonde, was dating one of the guys, he had dark curly hair and golden tanned skin.  While at this retreat, though, they were fighting like crazy.  They just couldn't seem to get along.  One night, the boyfriend came into the room I was staying in and asked to stay with me.  I told him that I just didn't think it was a good idea.  He said that he needed another room to stay in.  Although I didn't understand why he couldn't stay in the room with her, I agreed to let him sleep on the floor. 

The next morning, his girlfriend was nowhere to be found.  It sent a shiver up my spine as the police were questioning us all.  The boyfriend swore he had left her in bed, alive, when he came into my room.  They had just had a fight and wanted to crash somewhere else.  The police continued to investigate, but made no arrests.

A couple of days later, we were watching fireworks in the woods when the other man and one of the other girls slipped away to talk privately.  The rest of us ended up leaving them to go back to the cabin and back to bed.  When we went to wake her up in the morning, she was not in bed and the guy she had been with had no idea where she was, that she had come back to the cabin with him.

This was starting to get extremely creepy.  Of course, I left.  I packed my bags immediately and hightailed it out of that eerie little cabin without a word to one person.  It was only a matter of days before I heard that the last girl that had been with us came up missing, as well.  I was very saddened and heartbroken, but I was just glad I got out of there when I could. 

Several weeks later I was at a livestock show helping some kids prepare their lambs for the competition.  I ran out to our trailer to grab some wood shavings and I saw a large white canvas bag. There was definitely something in it, something that was not right, not to mention the strong odor coming from the tack room.  I inched closer to the bag and slowly opened it.  There, inside this white bag, were the mutilated body parts of all three young women who vanished from the retreat. 

I immediately woke up from this dream panicking.  I was so glad to realize it was just a dream, but I was still pretty creeped out since it was still dark in my room and Tate had left for work two hours earlier. And one question keeps circling my mind, how did they keep the bag so white if the body parts were covered in blood?  That's so disgusting, I'm sorry.  And I swear I have no idea what triggered that dream.

Chicken Parmigiana Recipe

A couple of days ago I wrote about the dream with my favorite dish, chicken parmigiana. Just for kicks, I thought I'd share the recipe. The mere thought of this meal makes me, and my husband, salivate and I'm sure once you make it, you will understand why. Here we go:

Ingredients:

4 to 6 boneless, skinless chicken breasts

1/2 cup All-Purpose flour

Salt & pepper to taste

1/2 cup Olive Oil

2 tbsp. butter

1 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese

1 pkg. spaghetti

Start by placing chicken breasts in large Ziploc bag and pounding them out with the flat side of a meat mallot to about 1/4 to 1/8 in. thick. Next, mix flour, salt, and pepper together on a large plate. Dredge the flattened chicken breasts in flour mixture and set aside.

At this time, you can start a pot of water for your pasta. Cook spaghetti until al dente.

Heat olive oil and butter together in a large skillet over medium heat. When butter is melted and oil/butter mixture is hot, fry chicken breasts until nice and golden brown on each side, about 2 to 3 minutes per side. Remove chicken breasts from the skillet and keep warm.

Now, you can make your own spaghetti sauce in this same pan, or you can be lazy and use jarred spaghetti sauce. I use Lovera's, which is made locally and sold at Wal-Mart, but you can use your favorite sauce and it will still be wonderful! Just pour sauce into the drained pan that you fried the chicken in. Carefully lay chicken breasts on top of the sauce and completely cover them in grated parmesan. I once substituted the parmesan for cheddar and it was still wonderful! So, if you don't have the suggested cheese on hand, feel free to use whatever kind of cheese you have available.

Place lid on skillet and reduce heat to low. Allow to simmer until cheese is melted and chicken is thoroughly heated.

Place cooked noodles on a plate and place chicken breast on top, but to the side of the pasta (if that makes any sense). Top off the spaghetti with the extra sauce and sprinkle the entire dish with parsley. Serve immediately and brace yourself for some serious compliments!

Last Night

Last night's dream wasn't very interesting.  Mostly about an interview gone south.  So, in lieu of that dream, I'll write about a previous dream.  Now I just have to figure out which one .  .  .

Okay, I think I'll write about the donut dream.  Pretty short, not scary, but kind of hopeful.

So, in this dream I was cooking a lot (kind of like I do in real life) and I created the most amazing donuts I had ever tasted.  The recipe was developed all by happenchance, but one bite of the crispy melt-in-your-mouth goodness would send anyone over the edge into blissful delight.  I had discovered the groundbreaking secret of the most awesome donut baking ever! 

I decided to approach my family about opening a bakery.  In addition to the heavenly donuts, I would also bake and sale cakes and pastries of all sorts.  I was so excited about this new business endeavor.  However, my family was not on the bandwagon just yet.  They were less than enthusiastic and little more than supportive.  No one believed that I could make it in a bakery.

Regardless of my family's hesitation, I opened my own bakery.  It started out very slowly, working horribly late hours and dripping countless buckets of sweat (not into the donuts).  Eventually, my donuts became world renowned and they were indeed named the Best Donuts in the World. 

Take that Mom and Dad!  Haha.  The funny thing is, I don't even like donuts. 

This is kind of what the donuts in my dream looked like.  Only way more tantilizing!

Bits & Pieces

Last night I had several dreams and I only remember bits and pieces of each. 

For dinner last night I made chicken parmigiana, my favorite dish to cook, for us and our two guests.  So, my first dream was that I cooked enough chicken parm for six people and one of my guests invited over some of her friends without even asking so there was not enough food for me.  I started crying and Tate hugged me close and asked what was wrong.

"I worked so hard on this meal and there's not enough!" I cried.  "And I'm hungry and tired and don't have the energy to cook anymore!"  I was so mad that she had invited over more people without even asking and it all just built up in me until I exploded.

After that, I dreamt that Tate sent me to Wal-Mart to get him some guns.  While there, I picked up a baby doll for a friend's little girl.  I went to the gun counter and the guy working was confusing me so bad that  I walked off with my phone to call Tate.  When we figured it all out, I went back to the counter, and my basket, and someone had replaced the baby doll with a real baby!

Of course, I freaked out.  Who dumped a baby on me?  That's as far as I can remember of that dream.

Then I dreamt that my frenemy from high school was getting married. Her name is Breezy and she actually did get married sometime in the past year (I wasn't invited).  I have seen pictures of her since then and, as horrible as this is, she had gotten quite portly since her star basketball days.  In this dream, though, she was back to the old Breezy I had always known.  I did get invited to the wedding in my dream and it was held outside on a fall afternoon.  It was absolutely perfect weather.  Breezy walked down the aisle in a corset top dress and a pearl tiara (ugh), but she had the expression of a dead fish on her face.  Maybe it was because she was marrying Chris? 
The next dream was just me pulling up to my Grandma Cookie's house where Tate was working on something.  I was in his truck and I had my dog, Patience, and an Australian shepherd puppy that I was surprising Tate with.  It was a black tri and the cutest little thing I had ever laid eyes on.  When I opened the door of the truck, Patience ran off and the puppy baled out.  We couldn't even enjoy the surprise because we had to go track Patience down.

So the dreams weren't full of excitement last night.  But, that's more than fine with me.

Nazis Take My Kids

The night before last I had a dream about WWI and the Germans.  This is nothing new, but the format was a little different.  Here it goes:

My family and I were all living in Germany when the war began and my father and husband had gone to fight for the cause.  My mother moved in right next door to help out with the garage that Tate owned.  Since he was away, I was working in the garage fixing various things and my two daugthers (I am only 22 and have no children in real life), 15 and eight years old, were helping me, as well.  I don't know the daughters' names, but I can still remember what they looked like and how they were dressed. 

Anyway, we were all working in the garage when a bus full of kids pulled up.  My eight-year-old came up to me and slipped me a palm-sized grenade.  It was gold with one tiny button that would cause the device to explode as soon as the button was released. 

"Throw it under the bus," she said.  "They are coming to take us."

"I can't," I replied.  "There are innocent children in there."

She pleaded, "Mom, do it, please."  Just then, a tall, dark haired, well dressed man and equally attractive woman got out of the van and walked into the garage.

"Hi, ma'am," the well spoken man began, "we are going to take these two young ladies to college.  They will be safe and in a learning environment until the war is over."  I began grillling him with 21 questions about this "college" my children were going to be taken to.  He answered them all suredly, but I knew what was really going on.  He answered the questions with words, but he gave me so much more information with his eyes.  I knew that he was going to take my daughters no matter what I said, and I knew it could end up in a deadly struggle.  I wanted to spare my daughters although I knew it was not a college they were being taken to, but a concentration camp.

My 15-year-old took my hand and said, "It's okay, Mom.  We will just be gone a little while." and smiled at me with the most sincere, innocent gaze in her hazel eyes.  I hesitatingly loaded my daughters on the bus never revealing the truth of the destination of the ride and praying this was not the last time I'd see my everythings. 

I kissed both of my angels on the forehead and tears were rolling down my face as I instructed them to be good, do what the people told them and to always stay smart and strong.  I bit my lip and hugged myself tightly as I watched the bus drive away.  As the bus was rolling out of sight, I ran into my mother's house only a few steps away and collapsed in one huge sobbing heap on the floor as I mourned the nearly inevitable loss of my children.

Nuts, huh?  Try explaining that one to me!