What happened to all the cornbread?

We here at the Cornbread blog appreciate the inquiries concerning our whereabouts.  Allow us to reassure you:  we are still here at the farm and we are still eating cornbread.  Because we spend most of our time here these days, we are merrily working everyday toward getting the Internet strung up by Mr. Haney to our very own telephone pole eleminating the costly trip to Sam Drucker's store to file our blog entry.  Stay tuned for the relaunch real soon.

Lady Gaga's Birthday Today

Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta better known by her stage name Lady Gaga, is 25 years old today.  

Daisy Mae of Green Acres also known as Lady Gaga is celebrating, too, in honor of her namesake.

How about those fabulous blonde bangs? 

"just put your *hooves* up,

 cause baby you were born this way"

Indoor Gardening

3 weeks

6 weeks

8 weeks

The gardening catalogues make it sound so easy.  “Start your own organic garden indoors”- quite an effective marketing strategy aimed directly ‘dirt daubers’ like me in the winter of our discontent.  Now, eight weeks in let it be known that while one may start a garden indoors, it is hard to imagine transitioning crops to the outdoor plot.  The almanac suggests April 22 as the ideal day for planting the vegetable garden.  Three weeks!  Three weeks isn’t going to make a difference in the girth of the feeble stems on the tomatoes started indoors. Any ideas about the latest possible ideal planting day for pale undersized pampered organic tomatoes? 

"Sleeping in Paris" and the Art of Songwriting

This entry is reposted because it was saved as a draft instead of  published to the site in October as intended by beved.  Needless to say, we feel it is worth a watch.




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2y9SLs2oSA&feature=player_embedded#!

I'll send the angels to watch over you tonight
And you send them right back to me
A lonely road is a bodyguard
If we really want it to be

There's fascination behind every window
But I know you really care for me
And soon we'll be sleeping in Paris
And we can set those angels free

No one sees behind the mask
No one knows I'm sinking fast
But soon we'll be sleeping in Paris
And we can set those angels free

Love is just a lunar slave
It's tied to the ebb and flow
Generations get glued to the waves
Just to see which way they'll go

There's desperation on wild street corners
But I think you're just waiting for me
And soon we'll be sleeping in Paris
And we can set those wild ones free

No one sees behind the door
But every day it's one step forward
And soon we'll be sleeping in Paris
And we can set those wild ones free

All those nights I laid with my eyes closed
But not sleeping at all, those nights
I thought I knew which way the wind blows
But now it's blowing me back to you
And the wind speaks French too

No one sees and no one knows
But every day I'm letting go
And soon we'll be sleeping in Paris
Soon we'll be sleeping in Paris
And we can set those angels free

By Popular Demand...Cornbread Recipe

It has come to our attention, some cyberspace cadets out there are accessing this blog because it turns up when "Google"-ing recipes for home baked cornbread. Imagine the disappointment:  no recipes here -only  pictures of hawks and an almost stalker worthy devotion to Rosanne Cash. Congratulations on that Grammy nomination, Mrs. L.

By way of explanation to the baffled bakers, some philosophy behind our blog title.

Cornbread itself is an ordinary, homey, tasty carbohydrate.  At the onset, we envisioned our blog that way:  simple, readable not pretentious.  Also, we actually bake cornbread often, if not every day.  This is where the blog/bread analogy gets half-baked.  We have failed in our effort to post daily or often. 

I baked cornbread for dinner last night in a cast iron skillet that belonged to my grandmother.  Here is my half-baked attempt at a recipe post.


SOUTHERN EVERYDAY CORNBREAD

Ingredients:  3 TBLS vegetable oil  (Grandma used lard; I use Canola)
                     1 c. self-rising cornmeal  (Martha White with Hot Rize*)
                     3/4 c. buttermilk (non-fat)
                     1 egg (I use pasteurized eggs.  Paranoid? maybe.)
     
Directions:  1.  Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.  In a well seasoned 8 inch iron skillet (preferably one
                         your Grandma used) heat oil.
 
                    2.  In a medium bowl, mix together cornmeal, buttermilk & egg.  Stir in hot oil.
                         Spoon mixture into hot skillet.

                    3.  Bake for 20 minutes or until brown on top.  Serve hot!

Cook's note:  Adding sugar, honey or molasses to this recipe changes Southern Cornbread into 'Yankee' Cornbread thus making it unfit for human consumption.

Composed: A Memoir

“Someone once told me to perform to the six percent of the audience who are poets. I often have to find that six percent by looking past those who are yawning, glazed over, distracted, unsettled; those who come to try to look through me to see my dad.”

Groucho, Rosanne & A Blue Bird of Happiness

Joining a club is one thing I rarely fall victim to. The few times I've ventured into an organized group dynamic resulted in canceled memberships and ill feelings. Groucho Marx nailed my philosophy: "I don't care to belong to a club that accepts people like me as members". What would Groucho think of these social networks luring me into their clutches with promises of virtual anonymity? Facebook snagged me last year. Now, every day I dutifully check in with my 200 'friends'. In a bout of cabin fever last winter, beved started this blog. We post at least twice a year. (BTW, thanks to all who check regularly for new posts. Stay the course. Winter is coming around again. ) Recently, I discovered Twitter. Here’s endorsement that hooked me: "If Jane Austen had a Twitter feed, she would be known as Rosanne Cash". Reel me in! How could I resist? Especially when I found out Twitter allows one to ‘follow’ microblogs without ‘joining’ the feed. HEAVEN!!! Call me a lurker if you must, but I enjoy the sound of the Twitter notification when Rosanne Cash literally chimes in on my iphone. Averaging 10 ‘tweets’ a day, she regales her "Tweeps" from the recording studio, limos, The Waldorf, The Plaza Hotel & the kitchen table. She is the master of the 140-character count. Her regular feature, “Fun with Diacritics”, is home schooling at it’s best. Umlauts, anyone? Last Friday night when I had the pleasure of meeting Ms Cash in Birmingham, I introduced myself as a “tweep”. She asked my Twitter name. I told her I was a ‘follower’ & a name not required for laconic lurkers. While she admired my alliteration, she went on to childe me about not being a ‘joiner’. Have I heard that before? From almost every teacher I ever had? Yes, but never so graciously…in 140 characters.

ReTweet of the week
Rosannecash: In taxi on Madison. In four blocks saw 12 dresses I desperately need. Thank god will totally forget about them by noon. #Hormones