In which I talk about football and church and stuff

I'm doing this post piecemeal. I'm making tea for tomorrow, so I have to keep running back and forth to the kitchen. I know that has no bearing on your reading experience, but it makes for an interesting writing process so I thought I'd bring it up. If you haven't already been bored to tears and clicked off somewhere else, keep reading. It won't be much longer before you bail on me, I'm sure.

The UFFL Draft took place this evening. The league is geared up now for our 17th season of fantasy football. 1992 was the first year we played together and there were nine owners running ten teams (one guy ran two teams). 17 years later there are 14 teams, and seven of the original nine owners are still in the league. I think that's pretty remarkable.

I didn't actually take part in the draft. It was started at 6:00 and we were in church at that time. I sent my draft preferences to the Commish though, so my team still participated even if I didn't. We run what is usually called a dynasty league, which means we carry over our entire roster from year to year. The draft then, is made up of rookies and players who were not on rosters at the end of the previous season.

I exchanged three players. I cut QB John Beck, RB Adrian Peterson (the one from the Bears, not the Vikings), and WR Deion Branch. I picked up QB Chad Henne, RB Jason Snelling, and RB Steve Slaton. Henne is the QB of the future for the Dolphins and Slaton stands to get good playing time in Houston. I just had a feeling about Snelling, who plays for the Falcons.

(The tea is done. I made some Kool-Aid too, for the kids. Pink lemonade.)

So after the draft, here is the roster for Sandy Springs FFC:

QB - Tom Brady, Chad Henne, Jon Kitna
RB - Maurice Jones-Drew, Steve Slaton, Jason Snelling, Leon Washington
WR - Nate Burleson, Plexiglas Burress, Jerricho Cotchery, Wes Welker
TE - Alge Crumpler, Marcedes Lewis
K - Ryan Longwell, Neil Rackers

I like it. I'm going to have issues in Week Four of the season as all three of my QB's and three of my four WR's will be on bye. We'll see what happens when the time comes. It's going to be interesting. Watch this space for SSFFC updates as the season progresses!

Church was cool tonight. Steven helped out playing the drums during the musical portion of the service. The usual drummer was not in church tonight, so Steven and Tyler (the 11-year old son of the music minister) teamed up on the drums. One would play the snare, high-hat, splash cymbal, and handle the tom rolls, and the other played the floor tom and the ride cymbal. They switched out positions several times during the service and did a fantastic job. Steven has come a long way with his drumming and we are really proud of him.

The girls got to take part too. The pastor invited all the kids to come up and help out with the singing so Jewel, Jessica, and Sage got to go up and hold microphones and sing with their friends. It was great. Sage didn't know as many of the songs as the twins did, but she really belted out the chorus of "I'll Fly Away" and the twins were doing their thing as well. It was really cool seeing all the kids on stage enjoying themselves and taking part in the service.

I start my new job Tuesday. Cross your fingers, say a prayer, send good thoughts, do whatever it is that you do to send good luck to me. I'm so thankful to finally get back to work and get the opportunity to take care of my family again. I was drawing unemployment this summer, but that wasn't a patch on what my paychecks bring in. It'll be good to have that security again.

That's all for now. I didn't get much sleep last night and I need to be sure to get a good night sleep tomorrow so I'm going to sign off, have a quick snack (PBJ, most likely) then go to bed. My lovely bride is sleeping in the living room chair with the remote control, so I'll have to wake her up and get her off to bed. She'll fuss at me for it, but I'm going to do it. I love you baby! You have a sexy butt!

That's it. I'm out. Happy Labor Day. Support your local bloggers.

In which I got soul (food, that is)

We had "Soul Food Day" at work today. Each month, someone in my department chooses a theme and we all bring in a dish that matches the theme and we all eat and enjoy. Last month was the first month we tried it, and we did hot dogs. This month, the theme was more challenging: soul food. The menu was wonderful--smoked turkey, collard greens with pear relish, macaroni and cheese, yams, potato salad, cornbread, and banana pudding for dessert. My contribution was...meatloaf.

That's right. Meatloaf.

I made meatloaf.

All by myself.

Shut up, Ben.

I have never done anything this ambitious in the kitchen before (Marcel I am not (although I would love to have hair like that)). Yes, it's only meatloaf, but when your previous masterpieces are taquitas and Hamburger Helper, you take your ambition where it leads you.

Soul food was the theme, and my first thought was collards. Unfortunately, someone had already ganked collards, so I was in a quandary. I thought of meatloaf, my mouth began to water, and in a strangely lucid (yet not, considering my culinary history) moment I volunteered to make one.

I went home and e-mailed my mom for the recipe for her famous meatloaf, a staple in my childhood home, and did it up myself. Darlene was going to help, but she fell asleep on the couch watching Deal Or No Deal. I hung around until Tater Cake won his money, then I headed for the kitchen. I soaked bread in milk, cut up an onion (for the first time in my life, no lie), cracked eggs, measured other stuff, smushed it all up with my hands (a treasured childhood memory: watching my mom make meatloaf and smush it all together. I'd always thought it was so disgusting when she did that. Subconsciously that's probably why I wanted to make a meatloaf in the first place, so I could do that) and put the bowl of meatloaf-to-be in the fridge. This morning I woke up, turned the glob of meat paste into a loaf and baked it up. The morning house was filled with the delicate aroma of onions and lean ground beef. Mmmmm!

After it was done I covered the dish in aluminum foil and packed it up in the casserole sling thingy Walter gave us for our wedding last year (thanks, buddy) to keep it warm and headed out the door. Of course, on the way out the door I dropped the *&%#*$% thing!!! The whole thing turned over as it fell and landed right on its head. I started leaping up and down like a lunatic and cursing, scaring Steven to death, as tomato sauce leaked forlornly out onto the carpet. The loaf itself, though, was fine, having been trapped in the pan by the foil and the sling. All was well and my leaping about was for naught. Steven said, "I've never seen you like that." I was happy that he felt he could say that and mean it.

I added a layer to my burden, wrapping the dish in a towel before putting it back in the sling to keep the heat in (since lunch wasn't until 11:30), and headed to work. My boss told me my wife must have packed it for me, since apparently wrapping a towel to keep the heat in is a woman thang. I told her nope, it was me all the way. She was impressed. I figure I'm just in touch with my feminine side. I didn't tell Teresa that, though.

Lunchtime came, and the meatloaf, as well as the rest of the soul food menu, was a huge success. Everyone told me how much they enjoyed it (and some of them even managed to not sound surprised that I had successfully cooked meatloaf) and a couple of people even asked for my mom's recipe. That made me feel good. I had done it! Later, my mom told me I have to make meatloaf for them when they get back from Arizona. I can do that. I'm a meatloaf maker now.

Eat your heart out, Paula Deen

A career move in the making?

I'm inordinately proud of myself this morning. Sage (my four-year old daughter, for anyone not in the know) is here for the weekend, and for the first time in my life, I have successfully used a waffle iron.

I'm not usually much of a chef. Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, Sloppy Joes, Hamburger Helper, and the occasional tajita night (a combination of tacos and fajitas that I like to think I made up by myself, but that I'm pretty sure someone, somewhere, is making money off of) are about the limit of my culinary expertise. If it can be cooked by boiling water, I can cook it. When Sage is here, our breakfasts are usually confined to frozen waffles, Pop-Tarts, or cereal. When she's not here I generally don't eat breakfast at all. However, today I decided to be bold and experiment.

I inherited my mom's waffle iron (which is an ancestor of this one) when she and dad broke up housekeeping to start their gypsy life. It's been in my cabinet for two years. Sage and I were at the grocery store yesterday and on a whim I bought a box of Bisquick. If I'm going to make waffles for the first time, I'm certainly not going to make them from scratch. I don't need to be inviting that much potential for disaster.



I made up the mix this morning with little incident. I plugged in the waffle iron to get it preheated. My mom (and the instructions for the waffle iron itself, actually) had advised me to spray Pam® on the plates before I put in batter in. Of course, that's what I forgot to do. When I opened the iron, the waffle ripped in half, with half stuck to the top plate, the rest stuck to the bottom. Of course, Sage was all excited about getting to eat homemade waffles, so she was standing right there. It was pretty embarrassing. I unplugged the iron and cleaned off the plates, sprayed the Pam®, and tried again.

A waffle! In one piece, even! Success! Whoo hoo!

Three successfully cooked waffles later, Sage and I each ate a waffle and a half for breakfast. Sage declared them good, and me a pretty good waffle maker. I'm not too embarrassed to say that this was one of the proudest moments of my life. Fatherhood will lead you to proclamations like that one. Maybe next time I'll try French toast or pancakes. May as well strike while the (waffle) iron's hot, wot? Waffle House, here I come!