A word from my Sponsor

It appears that this is something like my 251st post...I need to have a giveaway. Sometime tomorrow I'm going to pick something to give to a winner. I'll post it on Saturday night, I swear...in the meantime, more words of wisdom from Maxine never hurt anybody. Right girls?

The Dead of Winter

It's 8 in the morning. I have over an hour before I have to get the suitcase I laughingly call my pillbox down and start gulping. And it's raining. Picture me doing a touchdown dance in the end zone. Okay, so that was not a pretty sight...picture me lifting my eyes heavenward, saying thank you. If it would do this all day for about two more weeks (light gentle rain, not the gully washers that others are getting) we might catch up the 18 inches of rain we didn't get this summer. You know, Spring 2007 started out so promising. The mornings were cold, but the afternoons were coolish. Now when I say cold, I mean South Carolina cold, the forties. Afternoon highs were in the high fifties, low sixties. Flower buds were on all the trees, the apple and pear trees, the plum trees and blueberry bushes were all getting ready to set fruit. March was a fond memory April was a dazzler. Right up to the killing frost, or that Cold Snap as the old folk called it. Now, the first night of killing freeze wasn't bad enough, it was the second night and third night that really did us in. Mac and I covered as much as we could with sheets, trying to protect the tender buds. Little did we know that the forty knot winds would come along in the middle of the night of the third day and take every spare sheet I owned to Timbuktu. Short of walking through the garden with a heater, we did all that we could. We listened to the weather man, (you know the one they pay to tell us what we already know...they don't have a clue) looked longingly out at the gardens and hoped for the best. Then the cold and cool went away. Just up and left us in the middle of May and it became hot. And dry. We dragged hoses from the well to the garden to try to save the tomatoes and okra and peas. Our plum trees produced a miracle of two plums. I ate them quickly before Mac could even get a taste. The apple tree that had been so carefully pruned and winter washed the year before bore one apple. One apple. Just enough to get Eve into a hot spot. The blueberries that we were so carefully watering now, no fruit. The Catalpa trees had not one blossom and only a few leaves. I fear they have died. The peach trees grew because we became slaves to them, carrying buckets of water daily to quench their growing thirst. The garden produced squat. Everything sat in the blazing sun and baked. And now we have rain. It's not really the dead of winter, just winter getting started. We've only had a few days of freezing weather so far. I begin to worry about this Global Warming that they're really just now talking about at length. But I seem to remember rumblings of trouble on the horizon when I was a preteen. But no one was listening. Well, we're hoping for a future spring and longing for the drought to end. And now, it's raining. It's been raining for two days. Ah bliss, ah heaven. I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. I just hope it's not the headlight of the train.

Tipping like It's 1969

I learned about tipping at an early age. I learned who was tipped and why. I also learned in what amount you tipped. Service Workers, which includes Waitresses, Hairdressers and yes folks, even your Postman (Postie to my British friends) are Service Workers. I know I know, they get paid 92 dollars an hour and why in heck should I give them a tip? Well, for one thing they don't get paid $92 an hour (except in their dreams) , maybe if they're lucky they get $19 an hour. Out of this the Rural Route Delivery persons pay for gas and upkeep of their car. But I'm not here to haul a banner up for the Post Office, but for the Public Service workers in general. When I had my hair done, I worked out fifteen percent of the total in my head (and the Magic Miranda either made out pretty well, or she got cheated...math was never my long suit). When I paid her I included this "gratuity" in to the total. I did this because I was happy with the result. If I had been unhappy I would simply tell her why and if she couldn't fix the problem then I would never darken her door again. A very simple fix for a simple problem. The ones who seem to get the short end of the stick are Food Servers, or Waitresses...different restaurants call them different things, but they are never paid what they are worth. Most restaurants pay about $2.00 an hour (ask any Server) and depend on their patrons to pick up the slack. That's all well and good if you were taught by your parents (or Oprah if etiquette was not included in your upbringing) the proper amount to leave your Waitress. It is 15 percent, people(or more)...of today's money, not the last century's money. I know, I know you only ever left but $2.00 before...but that was in 1969 and dish prices change. I'm not saying you have to tip the people at McDonald's or Burger King, I'm talking real restaurants here. You know, FishFare, The Smokehouse, Gold Nugget, Plyler's , Fatz and the rest of them. Where you sit down to eat and a nice lady or fellow comes and keeps your coffee cup or tea glass filled and takes plates away or brings your food to you. The ones who ask "is everything all right? What can I bring you?" Their work day started on their feet and ends on their feet. It's a grueling job with no benefits and very little pay. So be a sport...work it out in your head how much to tip on a thirty dollar tab and leave 15 percent of it for your Server. Be generous, make it 20 percent if the service was you could dream of. You can be sure she or he will be all smiles when you next see her (or him). People tend to remember kindness. Oh, and the tip in this case would be $4.50...little enough, don't you think? So, make it a fiver.

The Daily Dose

Yesterday while I was getting away from election junk (you know, the promises, the attacks, the lies) I came in to do my post. I went in to Brenda's quickly because she told me that she had an award for me and I was so touched by this. If you haven't met Brenda, you must go to http://www.countryromance.blogspot.com/. The Daily Dose...I wish I had the back ground on it, but I'm going to guess that you pass it on to those who may ease your day with either common sense or humor. I hope that my humor is not too blunt, if it's the humor. Since no one ever accused me of having common sense, (or even the sense God promised a goose, as Mama said) I'm going to go with the humor. Brenda and I have a lot in common, actually. We love our families, we love the history of "things" and collecting tea cups and china pieces...our granddaughters are our world...altho she is mighty young to be a grandmother...but just as most of my blogging friends do, she is like a dose of fresh air. She works hard does our Brenda, and gives of herself to those in her care. If I had to have someone go in to care for my Father, I hope I would be able to find someone with Brenda's compassion and ability to lift the spirit, as she does. So, now I'm going to have to decide just who I'm passing this on to. I won't repeat the ones Brenda has chosen. Most definitely Teresa at Living the Life (http://www.tpmom4ever.blogspot.com/ , and Kathy at Just a Beach Kat (http://www.justabeachkat.blogspot.com/ ). I think I'll have to say Jeanne at Life or Something like it (http://www.jeanne-lifeorsomethinglikeit.blogspot.com/ and my heavens, Jenn and Jacqui at http://www.thebowerbirdsnest.blogspot.com/ and Sue at http://www.rabbitruncottage.blogspot.com/. And I really can't pass up this chance to honor Vee at http://www.ahavenforvee.blogspot.com/ . I honor all of you, you are all a wonderful daily dose of comfort for me...I think I may do this once a week so I can honor you all...so get prepared ladies...my prescription is open and I'm getting ready to write on it.

The Birthday Post

"MY LIVING WILL

Last night Evil Sister and I were sitting in the den and I said to her, "I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine and fluids from a bottle to keep me alive. That would be no quality of life at all. If that ever happens, just pull the plug." So she got up, unplugged the computer, and threw out my wine. She's such a witch."

Just a quote from long ago to prove that the Maxine in me is alive and well! I had such a great birthday party last night and it was like Christmas all over again. I don't think I've had a birthday party since I was sixteen. I have Evil Sister to thank for that. Her hubby was busy taking pictures and I was sure we were going to be posting them today when he called to talk to his buddy (Mac) and explained that his computer had kicked the bucket. He says it was when he was downloading my pictures that it just up and died. Okay, now I 've known my face to stop trains and a clock or two, but never a computer. I suppose the stress of such beauty was just to much for it to bear. So, his computer now resides in Mac's office where he is busily trying to repair it. When he plugged it in, he called me in to the office and asked if I could tell where the odd noise was coming from. I looked at the big silver box with it's skirt tail up and pointed..."from the computer?" I asked. He gave me one of those "sorry I asked" looks. I really couldn't tell what part of the computer it was coming from and therefore felt no need to complicate things. I was on my way to my computer so I could post the picture of my goodies. ES had prepared her famous "heart attack in a pieplate" (spinach quiche) a lovely seafood dip and artichoke dip. There were several types of crackers and then the cake. The cake had five candles on it and one the guests, Lenore, asked if it was for each decade and was I fifty today. In case you've forgotten Lenore, I adore you! So, I blew out the candles without having to take a second breath...it's wonderful what quitting smoking can do for your breathing. Didn't know I smoked? I once smoked like a chimney but it's amazing what an incentive having your chest cracked open can be. I haven't smoked, wanted to smoke, or missed smoking since December 2003, when I had my heart attack followed by triple bypass... (Oddly enough, other peoples smoke now chokes me.) So anyway, I blew out my candles and had a slice of the most divine cake, surrounded by the people I love. Thank you all for a lovely birthday memory. It's one I'll treasure. And I do mean all, my local family and friends and my Blogging Friends.

The Magic of Miranda

My friends, her name is Miranda and if she were to run for President....I probably wouldn't vote for her unless it was President of the Mini Spas of the World....because this girl is truly magic, which you shall all see...I found out today that she marries on December 13th and thank Heaven she is not leaving the area, but building a house next door to her mother. It's a Southern Thing. Here are a couple of pictures that Mac took, and please note the eyebrows...also disregard the surgery scars on my neck...I tend to pretend they aren't there. When I had repair done to my vertebrae (three fractured) they went in through the front of my throat...I couldn't sing for over two years...I can sort of sing now, but not the way I could. But, I can walk...walking and croaking like a frog, great things in my estimation. Anyway, I wanted to show you the results, this is the shortest I've had my hair since my working days...but I have to say, I love it!!!

See you all tomorrow, have to go mediate the debates that are going on and keep Mac (WTHF new blogging buddies, that stands for WALLACE TO HIS FAMILY) from kicking in my brand new TV screen....

hugs to all

The Arrival of Winter

It's Saturday morning, not quite 9 a.m. and I have an appointment with Miranda at noon. I should have been able to take care of the make over yesterday were it not for Miranda's trip to the Chiropractor. Well, we don't want her in pain while she is working on me, no distractions must come between the magic of her scissors, the waxing station, and the oh so subtle coloring. I am really looking forward to this. It's almost like going to a spa. I've never been to a spa, but I imagine it's much the same thing except there will be no mud baths or massage therapy. That would be nice, too...I loved playing in mud as a child, little did I know it was theraputic. I thought it was just getting dirty for absolutely no reason. The temperatures in Jefferson have finally plummeted out of the 80's to a more reasonable 25. You don't call 25 degrees reasonable? Well, how about seasonable. It is, after all, winter. Right after the rains came, the fireants made a new appearance. My dear friend Jacqui said she thought they were supposed to go deep for the winter. This was of course before the temperatures of winter had at long last hit us. I told her they were coming up for the moisture. I can only hope that while they were collecting rain water, the temperatures dropped and took care to freeze dry them for the benefit of the birds. It is so frosty out that the air hitting my lungs is painful. So, after a walkabout checking on the birds seed and corn situation, it's back inside to do a bit of housework before I have to leave for Pageland. I am so thankful that winter is finally here. Now, if we could just get some more rain.

A New Look for the New Year

I've been talking about going to the Salon for weeks now and finally, here in a whole new year all together, I'm finally actually going to make it in. I spoke to Miranda today (after sending her an e-mail begging her to answer her phone) to tell her that there had to be some changes. I'm tired of hair hanging in my eyes causing temporary blindness, tired of hair hanging down my neck causing tickling sensations to move up and down my neck. I'm tired of the unibrow that has gathered forces and is threatening to take over my face. I want a new hip look, I want spiky hair that needs lots of mousse and can be done in under three minutes and still look fabulous. I want highlights put in that don't call attention to the gray that has suddenly decided to make an appearance. I want to do this before my birthday next Monday. I'm going to Evil Sister's on Sunday where I will be toasted and cheered and I want to look toastable and cheery. I know I will feel cheery, since it's the first time anyone other than me, has remembered I have a birthday in oh, I'd say about 15 years. Maybe more. Does Mac (WTHF) remember my birthday? Well, no. He sort of wads my birthday in there with Christmas and then if I should say something about it I get "well it was just Christmas". I heard that a lot as a child, too. I didn't understand then and I don't understand now why my birthday should be lumped in with Jesus's birthday. He should be able to have His own birthday and Christmas as well, is my point. And so I jolly well should, too. I know that my birthday present from Mac (WTHF) is going to be terrific this year. Evil Sister has sort of shamed him into it. The best birthday present I got last year was her arrival from New Jersey to live nearby. It's sort of a long lasting birthday present, you know? If I pick up the phone to call her, it's not long distance. If I want to go see her, I don't have to pack a bag or put animals in kennels. If I want to gripe about how I think the world is mistreating me, she doesn't have so far to travel to whip me into shape. Come to think of it, I don't really need anything for my birthday. Just having the people I love know that they are loved is enough. That and a cup of tea. And a new hair style and two eyebrows independent of each other. And highlights in my hair. Yes, it's going to be a pretty pleasant birthday!

The Hero Artist

Okay, now we're in a new year and everyone, I'm assuming, has made their New Years Resolutions and broken at least four of them already. That is because it is now January the 2nd and it's expected of you. Mama always told us to make at least twenty, so that if we had at least one not broken by years end, we could consider ourselves successful. I bet everyone has made the old "lose 50 pounds by years end" resolution. That's all very well and good providing you can lose fifty pounds in the four days before December 31st of 2008. I read my darling niece's post(Kari at Livin' Large www.grannyskywalker.blogspot.com) and nearly lost it. She is to kind to say what I thought, and since she was, I guess I won't. (Suffice it to say, the youngster to whom I refer has some serious character flaws which could be corrected with the aid of a belt.) But anyway, I know that we all love art and my favorite of all is Titian. Titian or Tiziano Vecellio was born in a small alpine village of Pieve di Cadore, now not far from the Austrian border, where his family lived for many years. He was sent to Venice to learn to paint (not houses). I have here some examples of his work. He painted the beauties of his day, most of them flaming redheads, all of them robust and dare I say, busty...earthy lovlies that everyone emulated. And no one dared call them fat! Their very wealthy papas and husband would no doubt have had a few tongues cut out if they had. So, for your viewing pleasure, I present you with real beauty. Do you see anyone who looks as though they live on lettuce and carrots? Do any of them look as though they suffer from a bad case of worms? Maybe we just need to learn how to dress...Titian...my hero!

She Has my Vote in 2008 Can I count on You to be in Compliance?

Very eloquently put ... don't you think?

Maxine on 'Driver Safety'. 'I can't use the cell phone in the car. I have to keep my hands free for making gestures.'...

Maxine on 'Housework' 'I do my housework in the nude. It gives me an incentive to clean the mirrors as quickly as possible.'

Maxine on 'Lawn Care' 'The key to a nice-looking

lawn is a good mower. I recommend one who is muscular and shirtless.'

Maxine on 'The Perfect Man' 'All I'm looking for is a guy who'll do what I want, when I want, for as long as I want, and then go away. Or wait nearby, like a Dust Buster, charged up and ready when needed.'

Maxine on 'Technology Revolution' 'My idea of rebooting is kicking somebody in the butt twice.'

Maxine on 'Aging' 'Take every birthday with a grain of salt. This works much better if the salt accompanies a Margarita.'

'I'm telling you ... she's the perfect candidate.'

'The only two things we do with greater frequency in middle age are urinate and attend funerals .'

'The trouble with bucket seats is that not everybody has the same size bucket.'

'To err is human; to forgive, highly unlikely.'

'Do you realize that in about 40 years, we'll have millions of old ladies running around with tattoos and pierced navels?? (Now that's scary!)'

'Money can't buy happiness--but somehow it's more comfortable to cry in a Porsche than a Kia.'

'After a certain age, if you don't wake up aching somewhere . you may be dead.'

Okay, a little levity on the New Year and now on to something much more important...who's bringing the rum to the party? I have the Champagne covered...

Happy New Year Everyone...

Hoppin' John and Collard Greens or Ringing in the New Year

(For Joan, who asked)
You know it wasn't just yesterday that I discovered that I really love Southern cooking. I've known it ever since I was big enough to sit up at the table with a chicken leg in one hand and one of Mammy's biscuits in the other. No one can quite make biscuits like our grandmothers, can they, Belles? No matter how much I watched her with that bowl of flour, from step one to step oven, I could never match her for tenderness, flakiness, or just plain goodness. They always came out of the oven exactly the same golden brown every time, the steam rising off them carrying with it the faint sour smell of buttermilk. I was having a discussion with my neighbor, Joanne, about buttermilk. She likes to eat cornbread in buttermilk, just like Mac does (and he loves saltine crackers mixed up in it, too.) I don't like the taste of buttermilk in the raw. I like it in my pancakes or buckwheat cakes. I like it in my biscuits or as a dressing in my slaw...but I don't want a big icy glass of buttermilk with chunks of bread floating in it so you had to eat it with a spoon. No ma'am, I want to cook with it. Anyway, it's the Southern cook that gets the blame for high cholesterol and hardened arteries, for the most part. What made my grandmother's (we called her Mammy) biscuits so doggoned good, you ask? You didn't ask? Well I'm sure you intended to, so here's the answer. It was the lard. It was the soft wheat self rising flour. It was the buttermilk. And it was her hands. She always told me that I overworked the dough, that you just wanted to work it till it held together nicely when you "petted" it into a round. The imprint of her knuckles would always be in that finished product. I can't remember a time when we were children that she wasn't up with the roosters, making a pan of biscuits, frying sidemeat (fat back or streak a lean) a pot of grits on the back of the stove and those wonderful scrambled eggs, soft white swirls of eggwhite like marbling throughout them. My sister Toni was the only one I know of that managed to learn her method of scrambling eggs. Now, here we are coming onto the New Year and we have a custom. We eat Hoppin' John and Collard Greens...Hopping John is simply black eyed peas cooked till they're nicely soft and served over a big fluffy bed of rice, pot likker and all. (Pot likker is the water your food is cooking in.) Some folk like to serve a healthy dollop of chopped onions on top, too. I used to ask Mammy why they called it Hoppin' John and the only answer I ever got was because someone had kicked John in the shin. That was her way of saying she didn't have a clue. I have read about eight or nine theories as to how it got the name, but so far no one really seems to know. If you go by one of the many that Hoppin' John is a Louisiana Patois, an odd adaptation of the Creole French "pois pigeons" or 'pigeon peas', pronounced pwah peeJON. I suppose its not too far from that to "hoppin' John" ...I guess you'd say that where Hoppin' John got it's name is still a mystery. Then there are Collard greens. They're much like cabbage, but not at all like cabbage. They're similar to turnips, but very dissimilar to mustard greens. They have body to them. They are really the only green leafy vegetable I know that requires chewing. And the heads aren't ready to pull till it's had one good frost on it. Freezing sweetens them. Now, the reason we especially eat them on New Years day is for wealth and prosperity. The tradition being that if you eat the Hoppin' john you'll have plenty of coins pass through your fingers, and if you eat collards you'll have folding money in your pocket all the time. It's a wonderful tradition in that if you have Hoppin' John and Collards on your table, you're richer than an awful lot of people who have nothing on their table. And so, once again we will be rich this year. The collards are in the freezer and a bag of dried black eyed peas is always in my cupboard. You never know when a little wealth will come in handy.

And A New Year is in the Works

I can't believe that Christmas is over. It seems like just a few minutes ago that I was still frantically wrapping gifts and cooking and wondering what I had forgotten to do...and it's over. In a way it's like getting a reprieve, because now I can start planning for next Christmas. In less than a week we will be celebrating a new year...2008. I'm certain I was still writing 2006 on my checks way into the fifth month of 2007. And now, I'll be doing the same thing with 2007. I know I'm not alone in that. I read somewhere that the idea of celebrating the New Year started in Babylonia about 4000 years ago. But if I remember correctly the New Year began on the first day of Spring, something about the Vernal Equinox and a crescent moon, or new moon...and that the use of a baby was a Greek thing having to do with wine and the grapes...oh, and New Year Resolutions, that's a Babylonian thing, too...you're supposed to resolve to return your neighbor's farm tools? Well, something like that. Now of course we make a long list of things to do, like lose weight, quit smoking, stop what ever bad habit we've picked up over the past few years. I don't think the return of a tractor or plow has been on any one's list in a long time. That being said, James, if you're reading this don't forget where you got that socket wrench set. Okay, so while I'm not sure of it's origin or exactly what it means, I do know that I will have to prepare collards and hopping john for New Years day dinner. The collards will bring green folding money, the black eyed peas (cooked in rice) will bring coins. Now, I've been eating collards and hopping john for as long as I can remember on New Year's day, and to what end? While its taste is mighty fine, the only wealth it's brought can not be put in the bank. I have not become rich in the eating of these traditional foods. However, I am rich in the friendships that have come my way, in fact, that is probably more important to me than money. So, Happy New Year greetings will be coming your way...and soon, very very soon!

Merry Christmas....

Taking this opportunity to wish all my friends and family the most tremendous of Holidays...Christmas is upon us and the year is coming to an end. All our mistakes are in the past and we have nothing but good fortunes awaiting us in the New Year...So, I offer you my fondest regards and kindest thoughts for the Season...

Christmas is coming

It's the best part of the day right now. It's not quite six, I'm having my first cup of hot steaming coffee (heavy on the cream, leave off the sugar), I'm the only one up (well, except for Pyewackit, the big fat Siamese cat) and it's still dark out. It's later than 0 dark 30 but earlier than anyone who doesn't have to be up normally is. Like I said, my favorite time of the day. Early. I've addressed and stamped the last of my Christmas cards ready to put in the mail box, wiped down the cabinets and prepared the table for wrapping gifts. I said yesterday that we are absolutely positively and thankfully finished the shopping for the year. I've gone over the list of who I must buy for and I have achieved success. I can't think of a single thing that I have to get and the tree is now ready to receive her packages. Today, I'm making my fudge (and if I hear one more person question the deliciousness of Velveeta fudge, I'm personally bringing you a piece and use it as a gobstop...the divinity has to be made, the Christmas Birthday cake I'll do on Monday...I've bought the eldest son his own personal fruitcake...and I can't help but think that I have forgotten someone. The Granddaugther of course has made out like a bandit again...if Grandpa thinks she should have it, she gets it...I'm pretty sure I have the kids covered...my sisters, (all of them, blood sister, then Good Sister and Evil Sister) all have a little something under the tree, Daddy's gift is wrapped and under there...there's vacuuming to do ,chicken to be cooked (for the Chicken and Dumplings) and still it nags. I have forgotten something. One more cup of coffee may help loosen up the thought. I'm not sure, but I think it may be the actual busy-ness of the season that makes our blood flow with excitement. It seems that the closer the day gets, the faster this sled of time hurls itself down the mountainside til WHAM, it hits that barrier of Christmas morning and begins to slow down to a more normal speed. And thus the end of the year is upon us. Just like that. Umm, the second cup of coffee is better than the first. Now I have time to taste it and let it soothe jangled nerves...and there it is. I haven't gotten Mac anything. Well, we bought our usual "big gift for each other" but I usually give him something extra. I know, I know, he has me...but that's more or less the gag gift, so I guess I'll be out and about after all, today. Wish me luck. I want to find just the right thing for the man who beat out Cary Grant in my affections!
Velveeta Fudge for a loved one....

I Scream You Scream We All Scream for....fudge?

You know this time of year that the magic takes place and calories disappear, fat grams don't go to your hips, and sugar is just sweet...not fattening. No, really. My sons call it "Mommy Magic". Mommy says it's not there, therefore it IS NOT THERE! Anyway, Evil Sister and I were discussing the cookie exchange from the past weekend (the one I didn't get to attend) and the subject of Velveeta cheese fudge came up. One of the girls had gotten it from a Paula Deen cook book and made it for the CEX. I started laughing because I know this fudge well, as probably does nearly every Southern Girl breathing. Yes people, I have capitalized Southern Girl. We are Proper Ladies. I have already demanded that everyone down here give Evil Sister (ES) the proper respect, for she is after all from...wait for it...South Jersey. So, once I mentioned Velveeta Fudge in the blog rooms, at least one person (to whom I have already forwarded the recipes) has already asked "what is Velveeta Fudge?" Pardon me while I wipe the drool off the keyboard, but just the mere mention of it sets me to salivating. I can no longer enjoy it until I figure out how to make it from Splenda...that pesky Diabetes II, you know. But I still enjoy making things for the rest of the family, if I can't stand over the finished (and sometimes unfinished) product like Paula does, sampling and smacking and ohhhing and just p*ssing me off in general. (Because I can't do that anymore...) So, I am prepared to do what we do in these rooms, I'm prepared to share the recipe. I won't even take credit for it, because my Mama got the recipe off the back of a Velveeta box about thirty years ago, I guess. So, it's easy, it's good and because I know a certain pal in here who is fond of peanut butter fudge, why I even have a recipe for Velveeta PEANUT BUTTER FUDGE! How good is that? Okay, get ready to highlight the heck out of these pages and copy down the recipe that will make you Queen of the Party Scene. (Has anybody ever noticed that when I talk about cooking my Southern accent can be cut with a knife?) That's spelled nyffe...



Velveeta Fudge:

3/4 lb. (12 oz.) VELVEETA Pasteurized Prepared Cheese Product or VELVEETA Made With 2% Milk Reduced Fat Pasteurized Prepared Cheese Product, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1 cup (2 sticks) butter


6 squares BAKER'S Unsweetened Baking Chocolate
2 Tbsp. light corn syrup
2 pkg. (16 oz. each) powdered sugar (about 8 cups)
1-1/2 cups chopped PLANTERS Pecans (optional)
1 tsp. vanilla




PLACE VELVEETA, butter, chocolate and corn syrup in large microwaveable bowl. Microwave on HIGH 2 min.; stir. Microwave an additional minute; stir until well blended.
ADD chocolate mixture, in batches, to sugar in large bowl, beating with electric mixer on medium speed until well blended after each addition. Stir in pecans and vanilla.
POUR into greased 13x9-inch pan. Smooth top with spatula; cover. Refrigerate several hours or until firm before cutting into 1-inch squares to serve. (For longer storage, wrap tightly and freeze up to 2 months. Thaw in refrigerator overnight before serving.)



Okay, now for the Peanut Butter Velveeta Fudge...



1/2 lb Velveeta cheese

2 lbs powdered sugar

3/4 cup butter

1 tablespoon vanilla

1 cup peanut butter


Melt first 3 ingredients together in microwave. Add remaining ingredients. Knead like bread dough until you can no longer see the sugar. Roll candy with a glass. Spread into greased pan. Refrigerate until set. Cut and enjoy!