Having a Halloween Party? You simply MUST serve Kitty Litter Cake!

OK, I know the idea seems outrageous, but I found the recipe in the paper several years ago and passed it around at work. Everybody got a big bang out of it. So, at the risk of offending someone, here is the recipe:

KITTY LITTER CAKE

1 Box spice cake mix
1 Box white cake mix
2 small pkg instant vanilla pudding
1 12-oz pkg vanilla wafer cookies, crushed
6 to 10 regular-size Tootsie Rolls
Powdered sugar
Green food coloring
Method:
Prepare 2 cakes and pudding according to package directions. When cooled, crumble cakes into a brand new kitty litter pan. Then add the pudding and mix. Take 1 cup of the cookie crumbs and add a few drops of green food coloring and set aside. Mix the remaining cookie crumbs into the pan. Next, soften the Tootsie Rolls in the microwave for 10 seconds and shape to resemble droppings. Arrange them on top of the litter pan and sprinkle with the green cookie crumbs. Then sprinkle on a little powdered sugar. Serve with a brand new pooper scooper.
Serves 20 to 24.

(I've never made this myself, but with all that good stuff in it, how could it be bad!)

About having gray hair

This happy bunch appear to be enjoying a cruise on the Thames (note London Bridge in background). They are all having a good time in spite of being old. This might be a shock to many younger folks.

The only things I really don't like about being older are less stamina, achy parts and gray hair. Of course, the only thing I have the power to change is the color of my hair. I stopped coloring my hair a few years ago after having used tints and dyes since my 20's.

I was blond as a child, but after my kids were born, my hair darkened to "dishwater blond". I felt like it wasn't really me--it seemed like I was actually deceiving people by not being blond. So I went through the bi-monthly ritual of coloring my hair. After forty-plus years, I really got burnt-out and let it go gray.

But I'm still not sure about it. Every once in a while, I still get a notion to color my hair again. (Maybe an outrageous color, even.) The funny thing about it is about that time, someone will compliment me on my hair color. This always astonishes me--it's only run-of-the mill gray (or mostly white) hair!

Nevertheless, this weakens my resolve and I decide not to go to the bother. So I keep carrying around this head of colorless hair. I'm not crazy about it but I guess it suits me.

Another fall season

It's not only Harvest season and Leaf-raking season, it's also deer hunting season. I love this picture of contentment. Much as I hate the idea of deer being slaughtered, there are an awful lot of deer around. We sometimes have them wandering around the place and enjoy watching them.
But, sooner or later, somebody's going to lower the boom. When they do, I don't want to know about it!

No chip off the old block!

This is my lovely, talented granddaughter playing basketball. She got a scholarship to play for St Catherine's this year where she's in the pre-pharmacy program. I find it truly amazing that she is descended from short, chunky me.

I was never athletic but didn't find out why until I was 50. After suffering for ages with hip pain, I was finally diagnosed with hip dysplasia--a congenital deformity. The doctor said I'd need a hip replacement but I should try to wait until I was 60 because the replacements only last ten years. I hobbled around in pain until I was 56 when the orthopedic surgeon said it couldn't wait any longer. The surgery worked great and I had no more pain in that hip. However, after all the years of favoring the "bad" hip, I had worn out the "good" hip. So, two years later, I had the other hip replacement done (twice, but that's another story).

It has now been 13 years since the first hip was done and 11 years for the other. I trying to get as much milage out them as I can. I'm still not athletic after all these years, of course, but I stay on the go.

Anybody know of others with longer-lasting hip replacements?

Granny profiling

Dag-nab it! I do so! (Hmmph, snotty kids.)

Haying season

Back in 1948, I spent some time with my cousin on the farm in western Minnesota. It was haying time and her dad and older brother were busy in the field (although they had a tractor instead of oxen).

Obert and Virgil were working in a field not very far away from the house so my Aunt Gusta had us two girls take lunch out to them. My cousin had a darling new puppy that she had named Bitsy. Bitsy followed us out into the field, but apparently didn't follow us back.

Later, when the guys came in from the field, Virgil told us that Bitsy was run over by the haywagon and badly hurt so he had to kill the puppy with a pitchfork. My nine-year-old cousin shed a few tears at the time. But, it seems that I was more bothered about it than she was.

At our family reunion in August, I mentioned the incident to her. She didn't remember Bitsy. Even though I was only eight, the memory has stayed with me all these years.

I wonder if that's because kids raised on a farm see animals from a different perspective. The cousins had cats, but they were "barn cats" and not allowed in the house. They had batches of kittens up in the hay mow and never cared if they survived. The cats that showed up at milking time were given milk in a big dirty pan but otherwise had to fend for themselves.

I remember every pet we've had since childhood. I guess animals played a bigger part in my life than they did in my cousin's. She now lives in a condo and has no pets, while I live in a condo and have my four kitties. I feel kinda sorry for her.

My 200th Post & 1st Anniversary!

I'm humbly basking in this minor accomplishment today.

Have a lovely, peaceful Sunday, everyone.