Happy Cinco de Mayo.

Don’t celebrate with this.

Celebrate with Chocolate.  The Mexicans gave us that too.

Here’s a recipe from Vegan Cookies Invade Your Cookie Jar…I know, I know, I don’t do vegan, but GOOD cookies are GOOD Cookies no matter how you make ‘em.

Mexican Hot Chocolate Snickerdoodles

Makes 2 dozen Cookies

A beautiful crackle topped chocolate cookie with a spicy cayenne kick and a sugary cinnamon coating. Sold?

For the topping:
1/3 cup sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

For the cookies:
1/2 cup canola oil
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup pure maple syrup (you can use molasses) 
3 tablespoons almond milk (Or your preferred non-dairy milk or if you’re non Vegan, use MILK!)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon chocolate extract (or more vanilla extract if you have no chocolate)
1 2/3 cups flour
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cayenne (I’d try a 1/4 first batch!! Caliente!)

Preheat oven to 350 F. Line 2 large baking sheets with parchment paper.

Mix the topping ingredients together on a flat plate. Set aside.

In a medium mixing bowl, use a fork to vigorously mix together oil,  sugar, syrup, and milk. Mix in extracts.

Sift in remaining ingredients, stirring as you add them. Once all ingredients are added mix until you’ve got a pliable dough.

Roll dough into walnut sized balls. Pat into the sugar topping to flatten into roughly 2 inch discs. Transfer to baking sheet, sugar side up, at least 2 inches apart (they do spread). This should be easy as the the bottom of the cookies should just stick to your fingers so you can just flip them over onto the baking sheet.  Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, they should be a bit spread and crackly on top. Remove from oven and let cool for 5 minutes, then transfer to a cooling rack to cool completely.

From Vegan Cookies Invade Your Cookie Jar

And, just remember, Cinco de Mayo is NOT Mexican Independence Day, that’s September 16…just in case you need a reason to celebrate in the Fall.

Have a happy one, no matter how you celebrate it.

Today is an interesting day in history.  Just a few facts it you will.

In 1415 – Religious reformers John Wycliffe and Jan Hus were condemned as heretics at the Council of Constance.  In 1626 Dutch explorer Peter Minuit arrived in New Netherland, which would be come Manhattan.   Rhode Island became the first American to tell King George to shove off in 1776 when the tiniest colony renounced its allegiance to him.  That horny little Emperor Napoleon started his life of solitude on the Island of Elba in 1814.   And King Ferdinand VII of Espana signed the Decree of the 4th of May, which returned Spain to absolutism.  The Battle of Chancellorsville ended with a Union retreat, but cost the Confederacy its greatest General, Stonewall Jackson in 1863.   In 1871, The National Association, the first professional baseball league, opened its first season in good old Fort Wayne, Indiana. The shit hit the fan in 1886 when the Haymarket Square Riot started.  The United States began construction on the Panama Canal in 1904, no one knew then that Jimmy Carter would give it UP years later.  Also in 1904, Rolls met Royce!  Gangland’s Al Capone began serving his eleven year sentence in Atlanta’s Federal Prison in 1932.  In 1945, The North German Army surrender to Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery.  And in 1953, Ernest Hemingway won the Pulitzer Price for The Old Man and The Sea.  In 1957, Diane Elaine Mohler was born.  Two years later, the 1^st Grammys are held, no correlation, I’m sure.   1961 brought us the Freedom Riders and the American civil rights movement gained speed with their bus trip through the American South. The Kent State Shootings happened in 1970, my college plans changed. 1972 Greenpeace Foundation was born after changing its name from “The Don’t Make A Wave Committee”.  1979 – The Iron Lady, Margaret Thatcher, became the first female Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, and London got its first mayor in 2000, when Ken Livingstone was elected.

All in all, a pretty important day, don’t you think?

Oh, yeah, Happy Birthday!

I hated going to Church Camp as a kid.  It was our annual vacation.

Oh, the place was nice, beautiful actually.  Camp Easter Seal was lovely, nestled in the mountains some where near New Castle, Virginia.  A group of preachers and churches rented it for the last two weeks of the Summer each year, and after the Easter Seal people were done with it, we took over.

But, alas, we went to church camp every Summer.  It was a long, arduous trip through Southern Ohio, West Virginia – all of it – and then into Virginia.  Most of this was pre-Interstate.  US 60 over mountain after mountain, with pit stops along the way.

There were puke stops too!

So many people,  so much carsickness!

We usually stopped near St. Albans, WVA to have lunch, which our mothers had packed for us - mayonnaise and all. There was a park there, and it was about 1/2 way.  Later on, after the church acquired an old school bus, we went by bus.

That, quite frankly, was even more unpleasant.  We still stopped at the park.

And, when we got there, to camp, that is, – exhausted, tired, dirty, smelly, and quite grouchy – it was usually dinner time, and then a ’service’ after that, in the Rec Hall.

There were some highlights along the way.  US 60 offered beautiful vistas.  We saw Hawk’s Nest, and Gauley Bridge.  We took the West Virginia Turnpike back when it was a death strip.  We begged the driver to hit the horn in the the tunnels on the pike, stop at the Glass House, and we waved at the old lady selling Chenille bed spreads.  There were moon pies, RC Colas, and brand new exciting Mountain Dew, stuff like that.

There were events as well.  Mother’s brakes failed on the Lion Bridge in Franklin, and she rear-ended Helen Wooddell’s 58 Mercury with her (Mom’s) 57 Chevy.  Margaret Steinmetz passed out.  Someone accidentally used Barb Pelfrey’s lunch bag as a trash bag – which I might add, did not go over well at all.  Zola, Cookie, and many, many others barfed on every curve. Truckers gave us the finger.  Things were thrown out the window.  I’ll admit, there was some fun.

Oh yes, It was just a wonderland vaycay with a pixie dust ending!

Of course, the purpose of church camp was to bring kids closer to the LORD.  And that often times did happen.

We had Bible Study in the morning, activities and naps in the afternoon, and a church like service at night.  It was a little more relaxed than a regular church service – oh, who am I kidding – it was a lot more relaxed.  We sang choruses before it was in to sing them, no one wore a tie – not even Daddy!

And we made new friends every Summer, some of whom we still hear from once in a while!  And every once in a while, some couple fell in love.

I remember the food being pretty good, and the dishes were Hull pottery.  Had I known then, what I know now, I’d have had to repent each year as I added to my collection!  And at least, the dining hall was nice…deer heads and all!

There was a formal at the end of the week, called the Banquet.  It was quite the big deal, and every one worked all week long to get a date for the banquet.  Really, five days of speed dating before speed dating was ever invented.

Of course, those weren’t real dates.  There was no PDA – AT ALL!

Mrs. Brodsky saw to that.

But, my memories of church camp aren’t speed dating and banquet ones, they are nightmare ones.

We all stayed in cabins, which was a lot better than having to stay in tents.

It was hardly camping at all.

But, there were issues.

Toothpaste in my hair at night – yes, I had hair.  Snakes, frogs, and other fauna in my bed.  Short sheeting, buckets of water over the door – yeah, it was a blast.

Oh, such memories – 40 years of therapy, and they’re still there.  My only hero in the mix was Dan Burns, ever the pacifist,  who usually made the other kids leave me alone.

And, I’ll admit it, I was a target.

So, this Spring when I heard the youth group at my church – Yellow River Baptist Church – was trying to raise money to go to church camp, I thought, “If they wanna go that bad, I’ll help them out.”  And since they were offering to work for it, it was a win-win.

Last Saturday, five of them came over and ‘cleaned UP’ my yard.  Really, it looked like a Delta Jet landed back there, and frankly, between the trips to NC, the work schedule, and the total lack of interest in yard work due to an over abundance of Copperheads, it was just OUT OF CONTROL!

So, over they came, work they did, and check I sent!

I always sent my kids to church camp, if they wanted to go, but I never made them go.  And frankly, if these kids want to go, everyone should help.

So, I did.

But, I won’t be going!

Ever!

Seriously, ever!

I was so distraught about the piano drop yesterday, that I missed the Birthday of Mr. Potato Head!

Alas, my bad.

Mr. Potato Head turned the big 6-0 yesterday!

Yes, he’s a dragon too.

The first toy advertised on Television, Mr. PH came ’sans’ potato; you had to buy your own.  But, as time went on, and moms around the nation started carping about rotting potatoes and ’swallowing hazards’, Mr. PH eventually came with a plastic potato.

Frankly, I think they should have kept a closer eye on the kids.

He, like Barbie – who came later – would eventually come with a wife, a car, and a boat.

Mrs. Potato Head got the boat in the divorce.

There was a TV show too.  The “Mr. Potato Head Show” lasted one season, I mean really, there’s only so much one can do with a live potato.  And dicing, ricing, and cooking him on air would have been a tad traumatic for the kiddos.

Plus, he was on opposite Miss Frances’ Ding Dong School, and she kicked some TV rating butt back in the day.

PH has appeared in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.  Ironic I know, since most of us had a bowl full of him on the table while we were watching it.  His claim to fame was of course in Pixar’s Toy Story, with the awesome scene of him removing his lips and kissing his own butt.

Quite frankly, I think it’s one of the best moments in movie history.

At the onset of his life, he came with a pipe.  But in 1985, he became the spokes spud for the Great American Smokeout, and laid his pipes at the feet of the Surgeon General.  Yes, Mr. PH became Mr. PC.

Sadly, Mr. Potato Head, or just potato head, has become a derisive term.  ”What a potato head!”, really folks, it’s not a compliment, but it should be!

I’ll have to say, as children’s toys go, Mr. Potato Head has always been my fave and rave.  I have one…I don’t play with it any more, but I still have it!