My Unforgettable BFF For Life: The Stig Ren Experience

My Friday blog entries are usually about a movie I've seen or some sort of date night related activity but this one is about a person that's an experience to know. He and I share a love/hate relationship that will last until the day we both die. This is my pre-birthday gift to him.

I love talking about the things that bring joy into my life—whether it's the people I've known, the places I've been, or the unique items I've cherished over the years. Lately, I've been paying tribute to my favorite television show, GLOW: Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling. From the wrestlers to the devoted fans, the world of GLOW has been a significant source of inspiration for me. Over the holidays, I've shared many family stories, but I've come to realize that it's not just my family who are fascinating. Every person and every experience in my life holds its own intrigue.

Today, I want to focus on someone who has constantly reminded me that "Everything's content." He might just be the best source of content I've ever known. If you browse through my blog, you might stumble upon an account of his first time at Clutterer's Anonymous, a perfect example of the quirky adventures we share.

So, let me formally introduce you to my best friend since childhood, Stig Ren. No, that's not his real name—it's his chosen name for online purposes. Stig is more than a friend; he's a part of my story, a character in the tapestry of my life, and someone whose adventures and antics provide endless material to talk about.

Growing up, we all have that one friend who sticks by us through thick and thin. For me, that friend is Stig Ren. He’s been my lifelong best friend, an alter-ego of sorts, exhibiting the same quirky traits as me, though he's more outgoing and a bit crazy, I am crazy and more of an introvert and he is the extrovert. We met shortly after I moved to Florida after the 2nd grade, and our friendship has been a whirlwind of unique experiences ever since.

At first, Stig and I weren't exactly friends—we were more like playmates thrown together by circumstance. We often clashed and even considered each other enemies at times. Stig was the kind of person who craved attention from everyone, even dirty old men, whereas I preferred to stay under the radar. Despite our differences and initial animosity, we found common ground in our love for adventure and making money. Stig was incredibly money-driven, always looking for ways to earn a buck. He would charge residents to cut their grass at his granny's trailer park (even though it was his job and they didn’t seem to realize his granny already paid him to do so). Stig was always hustling.

Though he wasn't part of my story as a hustler at 16, my hustling days continued after Stig and I were reunited at 18. We both ended up in Vegas together in the mid-1990s, sharing a place and getting into all sorts of adventures. While I eventually left Vegas, Stig stayed, always finding new ways to thrive. In my book, I mention Stig during a few of the stories, even though he wasn’t present at the time. I simply use his name because Stig’s personality is so similar to another person I worked closely with for a short while, creating a composite character of sorts because they were so very similar. That's probably why we were friends in the first place.

Stig has always had an uncanny ability to make friends wherever he goes, despite his phobia of people. His life has been a series of moves, from Florida to Las Vegas to Los Angeles, Europe, and New York, changing locations as effortlessly as changing clothes. We've had our fair share of clashes, even fighting over guys we wanted as boyfriends, knowing full well that neither of us had much of a chance or that they were bad for each of us. There was even a time in Vegas when Stig stole my boyfriend, only to dump him back to me when he realized the guy wasn't into what Stig was into compared to what I offered. I quickly dumped that guy when I realized he was just starstruck and sort of stalkerish. Stig and I could always count on each other to sort things out, no matter how complicated.

Stig's parents were quite distant, leaving his granny to raise him. His granny was a trip, she would buy us cigarettes, Boones Farm “wine” and potato chips with bean dip and let us spend hours hanging out by her little swimming pool if we promised to keep watch for the county authorities who occasionally came snooping around the property. Interestingly, while Stig’s parents loved me, my parents couldn't stand him. I got countless butt whoopings (a spanking with my dad’s belt) because of some of the things Stig and I would get into. His granny was more lax, and we enjoyed spending time together in the vacant trailers in her park, especially the campers that she intended to begin renting out after she got them fixed up, I don’t think any of them got fixed up, which is why the county was always trying to fine her and have her removed them because they really were an eyesore, we found a few snakes in them. Stig claims to have had numerous girlfriends, he's most definitely not a ladies man. As far as boyfriends, I doubt he'll ever be in a serious relationship, especially considering that he’s a Gray Ace and just never has been interested in anything that wasn't already in front of him. We are both similar in that respect; that and being gay are in our genes. He struggles with commitment, even when it comes to choosing pizza toppings. However, Stig can commit to shopping and collecting unnecessary items just to have them. While "hoarder" could be a term for him, he’s not the type who collects and refuses to throw things away. He uses everything he owns and keeps everything well organized.

Despite my having other best friends throughout my life—like Jon Lawrence until the 6th grade, TK who was my best friend with benefits from the 7th grade till the 10th grade when I left home at 16, Charlie who I ran a pirate radio show with in high school, and Ernie who I've known since I was 17 and am still ride-or-die best friends with—Stig has always been a constant in my life. Each of these friends deserves their own stories, maybe in the future, but Stig remains a cornerstone of my friendships.

Professionally, Stig is a fixer. He helps people navigate legal troubles using his education and extensive network of personal connections. His ability to manipulate situations and influence outcomes is remarkable, and calling him a smooth talker would be an understatement.

What does he look like, you ask? Stig stands at 6'5", stocky, with wavy brown hair and gray eyes. He has wolf-like features and much like me, he loves wearing glittery shirts, eyeliner, and Doc Marten boots, whether he's in a suit or his signature kilt. If we hadn't known each other since childhood and weren't turned off by each other's kinks and interests, we might have dated in our younger years, though we did do things that boys do when they are experimenting, which probably contributed to our abilities to make money later on in our lives. Too bad we didn’t get our hands on a proper video camera, though one of the residents that was evicted from his granny’s trailer park did leave behind a video camera made by Fisher-Price, of all companies. I think it was called the Pixelvision or PXL2000 or something like that, and it recorded on actual cassette tapes rather than video tapes, in black and white and not very good quality. We would record ourselves doing dance routines or playing around like we were dogs and did a few little videos we thought of sending to America’s Funniest Home Videos, but also our filmmaking turned into something that would have made us more infamous than famous, like Tracy Lords, if you know what I mean. We loved that little camera, and I remember always buying Panasonic AA batteries from the hardware store called Scotties because they were the cheapest around. I wish we kept those cassettes, though I’m pretty sure the only way they could be seen is through the same system. Chances are, we recorded over them, him to sell copies of his ill gotten Columbia House tapes at the flea market and me, for the radio show I was doing with Charlie. Do you have a PXL2000 or Pixelvision you don’t have a use for? If so, send it my way. I think it might be fun to play around with.

Years ago, Stig turned over all of his social media pages to me while he was “away” and asked me to keep up with them as if he were in jail or rehab or just imaginary. I can’t disclose where he was at the time, but I did my best. Now that he’s back, he prefers real life than the life some have made for themselves on social media, and though we’ve both lost access to his previous social media pages and due to the state of the social media climate, you can only find Stig at his new BlueSky account is @ryanbeechman.bsky.social.

Though we no longer live close to each other, Stig remains my ride-or-die friend. His birthday is in February, close to mine, and no matter what gift I get him, he always says the card is his favorite. He's a genuinely nice guy, and I love him dearly, even if we can never quite explain our bond. I usually get him gifts from joke shops, places like Richard's Variety Store, or random things from eBay related to vintage stuff. Recently, he asked for a retro magic kit for some reason. I know he doesn’t really need it, though I do suspect he would probably just make me do the tricks on a video so he can watch. So typical of him. He did it with a few electronic lab kits from eBay which I’ve not gotten around to doing for him. Our birthdays are coming up soon, and while he might be a bit lonely, he has a love for quirky stuff and I will most likely send him a care package, if anyone’s interested in contributing. He's also quite the singer, despite being untrained. Perhaps he and I may even record a few duets together from wherever we are, in the future, just for fun. It's the kind of friendship where thoughtfulness and generosity thrive, making every gesture, no matter how small, feel truly special.

Do you have a friend like Stig, someone who stays with you through all of life's ups and downs?

Glamazon Queen Kong: My Life of Glitter, Guts, and Glory by Deanna Booher Book Review

Many years ago, I downloaded "Glamazon Queen Kong: My Life of Glitter, Guts, and Glory" by Deanna Booher to my Kindle, intending to read it once my life returned to normal after starting a new job. Despite juggling various activities like knitting and writing, I finally found the time to dive into this book.

I've been a huge fan of Deanna's portrayal of Matilda the Hun from GLOW: The Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling, as well as her many appearances in various films, television shows, and music videos. Little did I know that this lady, whose mainstream work in the entertainment business seemed to revolve around her image as a big bad lady wrestler with a playful and sexy flair, had much more going for her than just beating on people. In fact, my friend Beastie, yes, the same Beastie from GLOW, had been friends with "Queenie" for many years. Beastie told me there was more to Queenie than what we knew from her GLOW days. Within the first two chapters, I realized Beastie's statement was an understatement. Having flown through the book in just three days, I discovered that Deanna aka Dee aka Queenie aka Matilda aka Queen Kong is possibly one of the most fascinating people I've ever read about.

Deanna's writing style shows that every word she's written comes straight from the heart. Open, honest—no, brutally honest—and unapologetic are just some of the impressions I felt as I read. Queenie's words kept me on the edge of my seat, wondering what she'd say next. I expected a bulk of this biography to feature wrestling, music videos, and the world of entertainment, but that doesn't come up until the last third of the book. I quickly realized this book is not about a wrestler; it's about the life of a woman who just fell into the world of wrestling.

Deanna's book starts off with her humble beginnings in Torrance, California, and follows her life in chronological order. Her dysfunctional family and childhood issues felt as if she had channeled many of my own situations within my own childhood. Her teen years, leading up to the birth of her son, are heartbreaking yet relatable to anyone who grew up with dreams of being something "extra special" and feeling the need to do whatever it took to please others. I commend her for her mention of her use of LSD, weed, and alcohol because most self-penned "tell-all" books skirt over drug use or candy-coat it, making it all sound glamorous. Queenie's no-holds-barred accounts of being violated, used, and broken down are as fascinating as they are sad.

Queenie's biggest supporter throughout her life was her amazing husband, Ken. The chapters featuring Ken & Queenie's years as swingers and their home-based phone sex and fantasy business made me blush, and I had to skim the pages quickly if I happened to be on the train or bus for fear of someone looking over my shoulder and seeing one of Queenie's photos featuring one of her Glamazon characters and assuming I was reading porn or looking at dirty pictures.

As I mentioned earlier, Queenie's mainstream entertainment career isn't covered until the last part of the book. Her accounts of GLOW, POWW, and the Bruce Willis bachelor party are worth the wait. Queenie puts to rest the untrue notion that Jacqueline Stallone was the creator of GLOW. The truth is that it was a joint venture between David McLane and Matt Cimber. Queenie dishes the dirt on many of her GLOW sisters and colleagues, both the good, the bad, and the ugly, including David McLane, Matt Cimber, Americana, Spanish Red, and even the owner of GLOW until her recent death, Ursula aka Babe the Farmer's Daughter. Beastie, Lightning, Hollywood, Daisy, Godiva, Roxy Astor, and even Mountain Fiji get super shoutouts within this amazing book.

Queenie's no-holds-barred mentions don't stop with GLOW. Be prepared for some spilled tea featuring the likes of Sylvester Stallone, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and many others.

As Beastie told me, there is more to Queenie than what we know from GLOW. Once you read this book, you'll not only be a fan of Matilda/Queen Kong, but you'll also fall in love with the woman behind those iconic personas, Deanna Booher. As mentioned previously, I purchased the e-book without knowing that I would ever meet her. I had the pleasure of meeting Queenie on a week-long cruise with other GLOW girls in 2016 and can attest that her book is as genuine as she was. Sadly, she didn't have any copies of her physical book to purchase on the cruise, but she did autograph another book she was featured in as well as my DVD of The Story of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling documentary.

Looking for a good read featuring one of the coolest, most honest, and fascinating people in the world? Do yourself a favor and buy this book!

Thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts on Deanna Booher's incredible life story. Have you read "Glamazon Queen Kong: My Life of Glitter, Guts, and Glory" or any other biographies that left a lasting impression on you? Share your experiences and recommendations in the comments below!

If you enjoyed this entry and would like to support my work, feel free to contribute. Your support helps keep the content coming and allows me to continue sharing my insights with you. Stay connected by following me for more stories and updates. Don’t forget to share if you enjoyed this post. Until next time, take care and keep exploring the world of fascinating stories.

Show and Tell: Spilling the Tea-My Beloved Mr. Coffee 3-Quart Tea Maker

Let me tell you about an appliance that has stood the test of time in my kitchen: my trusty Mr. Coffee 3-Quart Tea Maker. I’ve had this gem for over 20 years, and it’s still going strong. Purchased at Bed Bath and Beyond with a coupon, this tea maker has been a constant companion, used several times a week, consistently making the most amazing tea, no matter the brand.

Making sweet tea for Terry and myself has never been easier or more enjoyable. We alternate between Red Diamond, Tetley, Luzianne, and sometimes Great Value, and the results are always fantastic. I used to use National Cup tea, the cheapest at Walmart, and it still made a great batch of tea with this reliable machine.

As a kid, my dad, sister, and I loved sweet tea, but my mom only ever made unsweetened tea because that's what she liked. She used the excuse that if she made it sweet, we would all just suck it down. Thanks, mom, for withholding, knowing we all hated unsweetened tea! Even though we could add sugar, it’s just not the same. The sugar doesn’t dissolve well in cold tea and doesn’t make a good glass of sweet tea like mixing it into hot tea and then letting it cool. My granny always made sweet tea, and try as I might, I’ve never been able to replicate the deliciousness of her tea. Though she did boil hers on the stove, even when I tried that, it was never as good.

During the period in my life when I was homeless, 1992-1993, I missed sweet tea terribly. While there were a few places in Atlanta that served it, no one made good sweet tea, so I usually just drank soda. After I left Atlanta and moved on to New York, there was no sweet tea to be found anywhere, thesame could be said when I was west in Las Vegas and Los Angeles and if you are a sweet tea person you would understand that comforting taste of home.

Here’s my tried-and-true recipe for the perfect batch of sweet tea, depending on the tea bag size:

• Gallon Bags: Just one is all you need.

• Family Size Bags (for a gallon of tea): 3 bags if you’re using Tetley or Luzianne, or 4 bags for any other brand.

• Individual Tea Bags: 12 bags, no matter the brand.

For the perfect sweetness, and though it sounds exessive and too much trust me, I use 1 and 3/4 cups of sugar. A pro tip: add the sugar to the pitcher first, then stir it up once enough tea has dripped into the pitcher. This ensures the sugar dissolves perfectly, creating a uniformly sweet brew.

Interestingly, going back to that thing my mom said, unsweetened tea and sweetened tea don’t really differ in how cold they get. It’s more about personal preference and how refreshing they feel. For some, sweet tea might feel heavier due to the sugar, while unsweetened tea might feel lighter and more thirst-quenching.

Despite the rise of K-Cup and other modern tea makers, the Mr. Coffee 3-Quart Tea Maker remains my favorite. Its reliability, durability, and ability to brew perfect tea for over two decades is a testament to its quality. I have seen it listed for over $200 on various websites, not a bad profit margin off an item that was originally $25. Here’s to many more years of delicious tea with my beloved tea maker!

Do you love tea as much as I do? If so, do you prefer it sweet or unsweet? Do you like it with lemon? I'm one of those weirdos that will send tea back if it has a lemon in it. Share your tea preferences and stories with me!

A Journey Back to 1986: The Power of Janet Jackson's "Control"

Picture it: 1986. Neon colors, big hair, and the unmistakable sound of the '80s in the air. It was a year of change, of breakthroughs, and for many, the year they first fell in love with Janet Jackson's groundbreaking album, Control.

Growing up, I always felt a special connection to music—it was my escape, my solace, my joy. The day I turned on WABB and heard the funky bassline and catchy lyrics to “Nasty,” I was instantly captivated. This was Janet Jackson, no longer just Michael Jackson's little sister, but a powerhouse in her own right.

By the time the album was officially released on February 4, 1986, "What Have You Done for Me Lately" had already been dominating the airwaves for three weeks. The song's infectious beat and empowering lyrics set the tone for the entire album. I wanted this album so badly, but my mom, ever the frugal woman, simply told me to “tape it off the radio!” How could I tape a whole album off the radio when they only played the top 40 singles?

During one of our shopping trips to K-Mart, my dad’s favorite among the discount department stores in the area, I managed to convince him to buy me the 7-inch single of the song “Control.” It was backed with a song from Janet’s previous album called “Fast Girls,” which I loved just as much. But having the single still didn’t satisfy my craving for the entire album.

The turning point came in an unexpected and heartbreaking way. My abuser, a few doors down from us, used "Control" as the soundtrack to one of his frottage sessions. As payment for his one-way pleasure, he let me have the album and told me not to tell my mom where it came from. When I got home, I knew I had to keep it a secret, so I decided to record the album onto a cassette tape using my sister’s big stereo. This way, I could listen to it in my mama's car or wherever I wanted.

From start to finish, the message of "Control" is clear: Janet had something to prove. This album is far from a cookie-cutter 1980s record. It stands out as one of the few albums from that era that doesn't show its age. The fresh sound, innovative production, and Janet's confident vocal delivery make Control timeless.

The album consists of nine tracks, seven of which became singles that stormed the charts. Alongside "What Have You Done for Me Lately," fans were treated to hits like "Nasty," "When I Think of You," "Control," "Let's Wait Awhile," "The Pleasure Principle," and the final track and single, "Funny How Time Flies (When You're Having Fun)." Each song tells a story of empowerment, independence, and resilience, themes that resonated with many and solidified Janet's place in music history.

For those looking to relive the 1980s without delving into the "oldies" genre, Control is the perfect throwback. It captures the essence of the decade while maintaining a fresh, modern feel. On a side note, a remix album titled Control: The Remixes (also known as "More Control") was released on January 26, 1987, in Europe and Japan. This album features various remixes of tracks from Control and serves as a great companion to the original album. There are three editions of the remix album, each offering a unique listening experience. For the best collection of remixes, I recommend the UK edition.

Janet's journey through Control is a testament to the power of music and the strength it can bring to our lives. Whether you have a similar story or simply want to share your thoughts on the album, I'd love to hear from you. Feel free to leave a comment and join the conversation. If this story resonated with you and you feel inspired to show support, know that every little bit helps in keeping these memories alive. Let's continue celebrating the music that shapes our lives! 🎶✨

A Stitch in Time: Learning to Sew with Mama and the Beloved Chair Cushion

AI version of me around the time this story happen. That bowl cut!

Yesterday was my mom's 80th birthday, and even though she's no longer with us, I wanted to share a fun little story about the time she helped me learn to use her beloved sewing machine. It's a tale of creativity, determination, and the special bond we shared. So, grab a cup of tea and let's journey back to my third grade year.

When I was in the third grade, my classmates and I often complained to Mrs. Kell about the hard plastic chairs we had to sit in. One day, she jokingly suggested that if we made our own cushions and they looked good, we could use them. Despite her jest, I saw this as a golden opportunity. Determined to take on the challenge, I went home and told my mom about the sewing project I needed help with. I had already planned the design: a perfectly square inch-and-a-half piece of foam, which I knew we already had, covered with navy blue denim fabric from my mom’s stash.

Mama was eager to help. She guided me through cutting out the fabric, pinning it up, and teaching me how to use her sewing machine. Together, we made straps and sewed the fabric to create a cover for the foam. Once it was ready, I proudly brought the cushion to school. Mrs. Kell didn’t believe I had made it at first and even looked for evidence of a tag. But when I explained that I had planned it out and my mom had helped me learn to sew, she realized her little joke had backfired and she couldn't retract the permission she had given. My DIY and craft skills were clearly in my blood, and I used that cushion the entire year. Unfortunately, my fourth-grade teacher was not as accepting of the idea of a seat cushion, and my days of hard plastic chairs resumed.

That cushion didn’t just serve me in third grade—it became a staple in our household. It transitioned to the desk chair for our typewriter, later our Radio Shack TSR-80 Color Computer, and eventually became my mom's sewing chair cushion. It’s funny how a simple project can create lasting memories and become a heavily utilized item in the home.

Looking back, I realize that this project was more than just a solution to an uncomfortable chair. It was a lesson in creativity, determination, and the value of learning new skills. It’s a reminder of how DIY projects can bring joy, practicality, and a sense of accomplishment.

I still cherish those moments with my mom and the memories we created together. The older I get, the more I appreciate the skills and values she passed on to me, just as I shared in yesterday's blog about how she would write letters. Her influence has undoubtedly shaped my love for crafting and creativity. Even now, I continue to find joy in DIY projects, and I always think of her when I embark on a new one.

I hope you enjoyed this heartfelt tribute to my mama and the beautiful legacy she left behind. If you have similar stories or memories of your loved ones, please share them in the comments below. Your feedback and shared memories help build a wonderful community. If you'd like to support this effort, your contributions are greatly appreciated. Even small gestures of support mean a lot as we continue this journey of storytelling and connection. Thank you! ❤️

From Pen to Paper: My Mama's Legacy of Letters

Today is my mama's birthday, she would have been 80. Ever since she and my dad passed, I find myself thinking of them more often, especially around holidays and milestones like birthdays—happier times filled with cherished memories.

My mama was a wonderfully quirky lady with a multitude of talents. From crochet to sewing, tole painting to ceramics, and even painting on canvas, there was nothing she couldn't do if she put her mind to it, often with minimal directions. I loved that about her. She excelled in certain dishes we had regularly and was a wizard with old-fashioned confections like fudge, divinity, peanut brittle, and pies.

For a lady who was constantly doing something with her hands—whether washing and folding clothes, doing dishes, tending to my sister and me, or even performing duties as room mother when we were in elementary school and sometimes working a full-time job—mama always found time to sit down and write letters. She saw value in Christmas cards and spent hours on them, not just signing "Love, Dee and family," to friends or if it was her family "Love, Pheroldine and family, but writing heartfelt letters to friends and family.

Here's a fascinating fact about my mama: she didn’t have a middle name. Her birth name was Pheroldine Day. With such an unusual and distinctive name, who needs a middle name anyway? Unlike other kids, my sister Becki and I couldn't even attempt to forge our mama's name on notes sent home from our teachers. We could never spell it right, and the teacher would instantly recognize that our mama didn’t sign and erase her name to try again. My sister once told me a story about her entire class attempting to spell our mama's name, and no one could quite get it. When my mama met my dad, he didn't like the idea of calling her Pheroldine, so he asked if he could just call her Dee. From that moment on, everyone but her side of the family called her Dee.

Whenever my sister needed a gift for a friend's birthday or Christmas, mama's go-to gift was a cute stationery set. I was always a bit jealous that I never got one like those girls; even my sister had a few herself. I'm not sure who I would have written to anyway, as I didn't really have long-distance friends or family connections to write to, so it would have been a waste of money, I guess. Still, mama had an address book filled with friends and family. She always had time to sit down with her writing pad, box of envelopes, and stamps to write to people related to us or people my sister, dad, or I had never met, like her best friend since grade school, Nancy.

I'm not sure exactly what mama wrote about, though I know that when it came to writing to her mom, my grandmother, there was always a mention of something mama didn't like about my dad or something bad that I had recently done. I wasn't a bad kid, but I guess when I did something noteworthy, it made it into her letters. Grandma didn't really like my dad and seemed not to be too fond of me either, but I was okay with that because my favorite grandmother was in Alabama—the one who didn't make me eat dishes containing massive amounts of tomatoes, bell peppers, and onions at dinner, knowing I hated them.

Even though we had a Smith Corona Galaxie Deluxe manual typewriter, much like the one I use now, and later on my mama's Brother electric typewriter, she always preferred writing letters by hand. Even if she didn't receive a reply, she would continue writing because she loved it so much. I used to think she wrote because the cost of a stamp, envelope, and a few sheets of paper was cheaper than long-distance phone calls, but it was more than that. I believe it was mama's way of what we now consider blogging. Rather than putting her thoughts out there for anyone to read in hopes of being relatable, she was making personal connections one letter at a time.

The older I get, the more I realize how my parents' actions resonated with me in ways I took for granted as a kid. Do I regret giving them hell and being a bit of a rebel when puberty hit me full tilt boogie? No. Had I not made the decisions I did in my teens, I wouldn't have seen the world or experienced things I probably never would have otherwise, though there are things I would have handled differently in some of our not-so-great moments.

In recent years, I've continued my mom's tradition of writing Christmas cards, though now more to friends than family. I don't know most of my family on mama's side, and many who would have known me have passed away. A few years ago, I thought I would buy myself a stationery kit like the ones mama bought for my sister and her friends. To my dismay, these have become relics of the past—at least the ones with more than just one or two sheets of paper per envelope and extras like a pen, matching stickers, and stencils. It baffles my mind because they used to be available everywhere, from Woolworths to TG&Y, K-Mart, and True Value Hardware. Now, not even Walmart, Office Depot, or Staples carries them, or at least not for anyone over the age of 5. If you can find a Hallmark or greeting card store, you'll discover they aren't much of a commodity in those stores anymore either. I've bought a few from Amazon, but even they don't hit the same.

I hope you enjoyed this tribute to my mama and her beautiful legacy. If you have similar stories or memories of your loved ones, please share them in the comments below. Your feedback and shared memories help build a wonderful community. If you come across any charming stationery sets or unique finds, I'd love to hear about them! Your recommendations could bring a bit of nostalgia and joy, continuing mama’s tradition. If you'd like to support this effort, your contributions are greatly appreciated. Even small gestures of support mean a lot as we continue this journey of storytelling and connection. Thank you! ❤️ ❤️

Saturday GLOWcase: GLOW Fan Richard Hughes' GLOW Story

Richard & Alan with Dallas of GLOW

This week’s Saturday GLOWcase features a heartfelt story of my friend and fellow fan of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling (GLOW), Richard Hughes. Richard's journey with GLOW began at a young age. When he discovered GLOW, he was living in Plymouth, PA and faithfully watched every Saturday at noon. He recalls the first GLOW girl he ever saw on TV was Sally The Farmer's Daughter, battling Hollywood. From that point on, he was hooked. Every Saturday at noon, Richard eagerly awaited GLOW, always waiting until it was time to turn on the TV. While he didn't have a single favorite, he loved Sally, Amy, and Babe The Farmer's Daughters. As a kid, he appreciated all the girls for their unique characters. His excitement for the matches, especially the Battle Royals, knew no bounds. Richard even created a GLOW character for himself—a girl named Sherbert, who wore an orange costume and transformed from a bad girl to a good one.

Richard's GLOW girl persona, Sherbert

One thing Richard remembers vividly from his childhood is when GLOW came out with the 1-900 number to call and talk to GLOW Girls. This part sounds so very familiar to me, I did the same thing and unfortunately as much as we called, all we ever got were recordings of the ladies of GLOW doing reading random bits related to their characters. He got into big trouble after calling the number several times in one month, causing his grandmother's phone bill to soar over $700. Fortunately, she managed to get the charges removed, but Richard was grounded for two weeks and wasn't allowed to watch GLOW for a month. He looks back on it with a laugh now.

Richard also used to visit a local Ma and Pa candy store in his hometown every day after school. He would take out the store's garbage, and in return, the owner let him pick out a magazine and some candy each week. Richard always chose a copy of GLOW Magazine, which made those chores feel like a small price to pay.

Richard with GLOW's Godiva

Today, Richard lives in Wilton Manors, Florida. He sells on eBay as a side hustle while maintaining a regular job. You can check out his eBay store at Richard's Retro Media Odds and Ends. He fondly remembers the days leading up to the CAC event when he started talking to GLOW girls like Gremlina, Godiva, and Dallas on Facebook. Richard also manages a Facebook group dedicated to GLOW: GLOW Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling Competition Bouts. 

Richard and Alan with Gremlina from GLOW

Richard's story is a testament to the enduring passion and resilience of GLOW fans. It's a journey filled with cherished memories, lasting friendships, and a love for the unique world of GLOW. You can connect with Richard on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/richard.hughes.50. Here's to more Saturdays filled with GLOW magic!

A Night with William Weekly: WrestleMania, Roaches, and Childhood Bonds

When I was a kid, my social interactions were limited to a small group of friends. Calling it a "circle" might be a bit misleading, as most of them had their own separate cliques, and I often found myself navigating these friendships alone. One particularly memorable friend was William Weekly, a boy a few years my junior, whom I met at a summer camp. This day camp was a haven of fun-filled activities and adventures. We spent our summer days basking in the sun at the beach, laughing through thrilling waterslides on Pensacola Beach, gliding effortlessly on roller skates, and enjoying the exhilaration of tubing down the Blackwater River. These shared experiences created a bond between us.

William’s mom worked for the sheriff's office, though I never knew her specific role. She was usually really tired when she got home, so cleaning wasn't high on her agenda. Their house was probably the most chaotic house I'd ever been in. They didn't have a garbage can in the kitchen; instead, there was a pile of garbage with pizza boxes and soda cans, and the sink was always full of dirty dishes. If they offered you something to drink, you had better make sure it was in a can or a sealed bottle.

Despite the mess, William and I bonded over our shared love of wrestling. Though GLOW (Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling) had ended in our area by the time we started hanging out, William's favorite wrestlers were Hollywood and Tina Ferrari. He had fond memories of them, and we often talked about the show. William had a penchant for the movie "Elvira, Mistress of the Dark," and almost every time I visited him, we would watch it, rewind the parts that cracked us up, and then reenact those scenes ourselves. William was a blast to be friends with. He even accompanied me to the fair one year and scared the life out of me on the Skywheel, my favorite ride, by rocking the seat despite the "Don't rock the seat" signage. Though we never fell out, I was terrified.

One night, William asked if I wanted to spend the night so we could rent Nintendo games and play them until we passed out. We went to the video store next to the Piggly Wiggly and rented his favorite, "The Legend of Zelda," which I never got into, and "WrestleMania."

WrestleMania was my absolute favorite Nintendo game. Eventually, my parents bought it for me just to stop me from renting it every time we went to the video store. The game featured six wrestlers: Hulk Hogan, André the Giant, "Macho Man" Randy Savage, "The Million Dollar Man" Ted DiBiase, Bam Bam Bigelow, and The Honky Tonk Man. Each wrestler had a limited number of moves, such as standing punches, kicks, headbutts, and unique running attacks. For example, Randy Savage used elbow smashes, Bam Bam Bigelow had two running attacks, and Ted DiBiase used eye gouges. Only Hulk Hogan could bodyslam the massive André the Giant.

You could play single exhibition matches or tournaments. In the single-player tournament, you’d choose one wrestler and defeat the other five to win the championship. In multiplayer tournaments, up to six players could compete, each facing every other wrestler once. The wrestler with the best record at the end of the tournament would be declared the champion.

William was always Bam Bam Bigelow or Hulk Hogan, while I was Macho Man or Honky Tonk Man. We played the multiplayer tournament matches almost the entire night. If one of us started to fall asleep, the other would make the most of the dozing off and cheat on the game as best we could. We loved playing games together, and often ended up bumping into each other, trying out real wrestling moves we saw in the game. His mom would bring us microwaved popcorn, then sit down to play "Super Mario Brothers" herself while we munched on our snack.

William was straight but very supportive of me being gay. He was a good counterpart to my friend TK, who was my friend with benefits. I only spent the night with William once because of the breakfast incident. His mom brought out cereal, and though I loved Raisin Bran, hers had something extra—roaches. I kid you not, she poured a bowl for me and what looked like raisins were moving. I wrote a song about it and might share it one day, perhaps as a fun tribute to my friend William, who tragically died in a motorcycle accident the year he graduated high school.

Despite never staying over again, we continued to hang out a lot. Every time I thought I had the courage to spend the night again, I ended up calling my dad to pick me up because I was afraid the roaches would get me. I wish I could say my friendship with William had continued throughout high school, but we drifted apart once I started the 9th grade.

I hope you enjoyed this nostalgic trip down memory lane with my friend William Weekly. If you have any similar stories or experiences, please share them in the comments below. Your feedback and shared memories help build our wonderful community of readers. If you feel inclined to support this ongoing effort, your contributions are greatly appreciated. Additionally, if you'd like to show some love and support in other ways, feel free to do so—every little bit helps in continuing this journey of storytelling and connection. Thank you! ❤️

"In the Lives of Puppets" by TJ Klune - A Hilarious and Heartfelt Adventure Book Review

Hey everyone! I've got an absolute gem of a book to share with you today—"In the Lives of Puppets" by TJ Klune. If you enjoy stories that are both hilarious and heartwarming, then you’re in for a treat! I read this book last year, and let me tell you, it was an absolute blast! The characters are so lovable, and I found myself laughing out loud so many times, especially with Nurse Ratched and Rambo. So, let’s dive into this fantastic adventure and see what makes it so special.

Imagine "Swiss Family Robinson" meets "Wall-E" in the woods. That's the vibe of this fantastic standalone fantasy from the beloved New York Times and USA Today bestselling author TJ Klune. He takes us on an extraordinary journey deep into the heart of a peculiar forest, following a family assembled from spare parts.

In this strange little home built into the branches of a grove of trees, we meet three robots: the fatherly inventor android Giovanni Lawson, a pleasantly sadistic nurse machine, and a small vacuum desperate for love and attention. Victor Lawson, a human, lives there too, making them a unique and hidden family.

One day, Vic salvages and repairs an unfamiliar android labeled "HAP." He soon discovers a dark past shared between Hap and Gio—a past that involves hunting humans. Things take a wild turn when Hap accidentally alerts robots from Gio's former life to their location, putting the family's safety at risk. Gio is captured and taken back to his old laboratory in the City of Electric Dreams.

Determined to save Gio, Vic and his assembled family embark on a journey across an unforgiving and otherworldly country. Along the way, Vic grapples with feelings of betrayal and affection for Hap, forcing him to decide whether he can accept love with strings attached.

Inspired by Carlo Collodi's "The Adventures of Pinocchio," "In the Lives of Puppets" is a masterful stand-alone fantasy adventure from TJ Klune, the author who brought us "The House in the Cerulean Sea" and "Under the Whispering Door."

If you’re into heartfelt, funny, and whimsical stories, "In the Lives of Puppets" is a must-read. It’s got a perfect mix of adventure, humor, and emotional depth that will keep you hooked from start to finish.

I hope you find my review of "In the Lives of Puppets" by TJ Klune helpful and inspiring. If you’ve had the chance to read the book, I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences—please leave a comment below. Your feedback helps build our wonderful reading community.

If you feel inclined to support this ongoing effort, your contributions are greatly appreciated. Additionally, if you'd like to show some love and support in other ways, feel free to do so—every little bit helps in continuing this literary journey. Thank you! 

From Homeless to Prepared: A Peek Inside My Manbag

Ever wonder what it's like to carry everything you own with you at all times? Well, let me take you on a journey through the world of a self-proclaimed packrat with a touch of OCD—me! From backpacks and lunchboxes in my younger days to the latest and greatest manbags, my journey has been one of overpacking and overthinking. So, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the quirky contents of my trusty manbag.

Most people who know me in real life are well aware that I'm somewhat of a packrat. Actually, if I'm being honest, it's more than just "somewhat." This OCD thing touches every aspect of my world. When I was younger, I had backpacks and lunchboxes to stash all my stuff. But when I hit the streets in Atlanta and NYC back in 1992, carrying a backpack seemed to draw a lot of attention from store salespeople.

I quickly found it best to downsize to the bare essentials. That way, I would rarely be asked to check my bag, and if I was, they wouldn't have any reason to question why I had so much stuff. One thing I learned quickly was to never tell the staff at FAO Schwartz or Sam Goody that I was homeless and carried everything I owned with me. That is, until I discovered the place I tricked out behind an abandoned house in New Jersey, and then the amount of my belongings grew substantially. If I did have to check my bag and the clerk asked why it was so heavy, my standard response became something like, "I'm visiting my uncle or dad." It totally worked, especially because of my Southern accent—it was a real kicker. This was before I learned to cover up the accent.

Once I left NYC, I found it hard to part with "the essentials." To this day, I still carry stuff around with me as I did when I was homeless, but my carry-all bag is now known as my manbag. I have four manbags—one is technically a laptop bag, and another is a laptop backpack.

Have you ever noticed that when you ask someone, "What's in your bag?" most people won't tell you? In fact, they'll go out of their way to avoid further conversation on the topic. What's in there? Government secrets? People can be so touchy about petty stuff. It's just that—STUFF. So, what's in my manbag? Let's break it down:

Contents of My Manbag:

• Hand Sanitizer: Essential for keeping germs at bay, especially after touching public surfaces or before eating. Remember, it's not just for Covid.

• Epi-Pen: A lifesaver for someone with severe allergies. Luckily, I've never had to use it, but it's always good to be prepared.

• Prep H Pads: Handy for relieving any discomfort or irritation. Not glamorous, but practical.

• Pain Meds: For pain management. These are something I keep around just in case I have a severe headache or any other sudden pain. During my homeless years, I never bothered with meds and suffered through toothaches, migraines, colds, the flu, and nausea. I would rather die than go through all of that without some sort of assistance.

• 4 Color BIC Pen: Super useful for organizing notes or highlighting different things in my journal or planner.

• Mechanical Pencil: Always good to have for making notes or sketching ideas on the go.

• Notebook: This is my portable idea bank. I jot down thoughts, to-dos, and anything else that comes to mind.

• Out-of-Date Penny Press Word Search: A fun way to pass the time and keep my brain active during downtimes.

• Rechargeable Portable Fan: A lifesaver on hot days. It’s small but mighty and helps keep me cool.

• Mini Mary Hanson Roberts Tarot Cards: Great for quick readings or just a bit of fun. They’re compact and easy to carry. I don't break out the tarot cards as much as I used to, though. Not that I've lost my touch, just not really interested in the attention a public reading brings.

• Lighter: Always useful, whether for lighting a candle, starting a fire, or just in case of an emergency.

• Swiss Army Knife: I used to have a Leatherman Mini, but it was stolen many years back. No matter which, they come in handy more often than you’d think, especially when I was homeless—cutting, opening packages, minor repairs, you name it. Except when I go to work—even though I am cleared to take necessary tools into the airport, this isn't needed for my job though it would come in handy at times.

• Lotion: Hand sanitizer dries out your hands, so it's always good to moisturize, especially when you never know when you're going to have to shake someone's hand. Dry hands are embarrassing.

• Gum or Hard Candy: Just because.

• Lip Balm: Keeps my lips from getting chapped, plus it tastes pretty good too.

Things that I Used to Carry but Have Been Outmoded by Other Stuff:

• Digital Camera: Now we all rely on our phones, and it took me a while to break away from a dedicated camera, but phones are just as good for higher-quality photos.

• Creative Zen Touch MP3 Player: My old-school music player. I loved it until Terry upgraded me to an iPod Touch for Christmas many years ago. Much like the Digital Camera, the iPod has been replaced by my phone.

Yup, I was once a Boy Scout. Their motto is "Be Prepared," and that, I am.

The thoughtful Christmas 2024 gift from Terry. ❤️

Now, let's talk about the fantastic gift I received this past Christmas. Terry gifted me an amazing large messenger bag. He was itching to give it to me before my trip to Orlando, knowing it would be the perfect size for me to travel with as my personal item on Frontier Airlines, but I didn't want to take away from his or my Christmas morning excitement. At first, I thought it was a little too big, but when I realized my 14-inch laptop that I use for almost everything, including this blog, fit perfectly, I knew it was just right. Though I love it, much like ladies with their handbags, you can never have enough things to carry stuff in. Given that I am required to carry clear bags to work, I've been searching high and low for a clear crossbody bag large enough for my larger 15-inch laptop and the accessories mentioned above.

So, what about you? Do you carry a bag or a manbag with you? My favorites are pretty much the standard waxed canvas bags, similar to the ones at Army Surplus stores. I wish I could find one large enough to fit a 15-inch laptop into, but no such luck for me. If I could carry my laptop around in one, I would, but it seems the typical messenger bags they make nowadays aren't really big enough. And if they are, they don't have enough padding to keep the laptop safe. What's inside your bag, and why do you carry those items? Let's swap stories—leave a comment below and share your essentials. You never know; you might inspire someone to add a new must-have to their own bag!

If you've got any cool ideas for must-have items or if you come across an awesome messenger bag that you think I'd love, feel free to let me know. Your suggestions and contributions are always appreciated. Thank you!

Lisa Vroman's Broadway Classic: An Enchanting Journey Through Theatre Hits

Lisa Vroman Broadway Classic

Today's music review is all about the amazing album by Lisa Vroman entitled Broadway Classic. I had to pleasure of seeing Lisa perform the role of Christine several times during her time with various productions of the show. Lisa Vroman performed as the original alternate Christine in the Music Box Tour of Phantom before moving on to San Francisco as the principal Christine for the show's five-year run. Miss Vroman went on to perform the role for several years on Broadway and again with the Music Box Tour. While I love most of the ladies I've seen as Christine (25 of them) if someone asks of the ones I've seen which is my favorite and I usually reply, I liked all of them for one reason or another so I couldn't narrow it down to just one. With that said, Lisa was consistently perfect throughout every performance I'd seen and her voice effortlessly flowed from her in a mesmorizing way. If any future Christine needed one to research for their role, Lisa is the one to take notes from.

Lisa Vroman as Christine

Lisa's Broadway Classic album, a sixteen-track CD produced in 1999, holds a special place in my heart. The moment I saw it in the Borders bookstore I frequented, the very same one I'd worked at for a few years, I bought the only copy in the store. Before I even left the store, I had already queued up her stellar rendition of "Think of Me" on my trusty Philips Portable CD Player, her mesmerizing voice flowing through my headphones. During the brief time I hosted an internet radio show, I frequently played tracks from Lisa's CD and was consistently asked by listeners where they could get a copy. To this day, Lisa's album remains one of my all-time favorite Phantom-related CDs. Backed by the San Francisco Radio Orchestra, the lush orchestrations can fill any room, depending on your sound system. Lisa's voice is nothing short of enchanting.

Lisa's Broadway Classic album isn't just about her incredible renditions of Phantom tunes; those are merely a fraction of what she masters. Some might argue that Julie Andrews' version of the legendary Rodgers & Hammerstein tune "The Sound of Music" is the definitive recording, but once you hear Lisa's rendition, you might find yourself reconsidering. Maury Yeston's "Unusual Way," a song I have cherished since hearing it performed by Dave Willetts, Elaine Paige, and my friend Jonathan Frank, receives a masterclass treatment from Lisa.

Lisa isn't just well-versed in modern theatre tunes; she delves into the works of Lerner & Loewe, as well as the iconic Leonard Bernstein. Her versatility shines through each track, making this CD a must-have for theatre music aficionados. Phantom enthusiasts will be particularly enchanted. I could sing the praises of this CD for days; it’s truly outstanding. Miss Vroman's performances of "Think of Me" and "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" make this CD worth every penny; the rest is just the cherry on top.

Though this is a CD review and I touch on the times I've seen Lisa live in The Phantom of the Opera, in the future, I will be featuring my thoughts and profiles on the ladies and gentlemen I've seen in The Phantom of the Opera over the years, just as I am doing with my Saturday GLOWcase series which features the cast, crew, and fans of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling.

If you’ve had the chance to listen to this CD or see Lisa perform live, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Please share your comments below! If you enjoyed this review and would like to support future content, your contributions are greatly appreciated. Thank you! 🎶

Buy & Save on this and other great NEW & used CD's, Records and Tape on eBay.

Boo: The Unexpected Emotional Support Cat

Not Boo but pretty close to what I remember

Life has a way of surprising us when we least expect it. During one of the most challenging periods of my life, while staying with my dad and striving to overcome addiction, I found myself yearning for a pet duck. Despite not being a bird enthusiast, I felt an inexplicable connection to the idea. Unfortunately, our living situation wasn't suitable for a duck. Little did I know, my dad's alternative gift would change my life in ways I couldn't imagine—a solid white kitten named Boo.

In our rented trailer on Dauphin Island Parkway in Mobile, Alabama, I now had a little ghost kitty with the brightest blue eyes. He was adorable, and being solid white, I named him Boo. I took care of his litter box daily, brushed him, and essentially did everything I would normally do with a dog. Somehow, Boo turned out to be more dog-like, exhibiting very few feline traits. Sometimes, while I was reading in the bathtub, Boo would jump in the water with me, as if he wanted to relax and enjoy the warm water too. He slept next to my pillow every night, often touching my face with a paw or his tail. It felt like he knew I needed companionship; he was doing what his instincts told him to, keeping me in check and reminding me that he was there. Boo became my emotional support kitty, even though that concept wasn't widely recognized back then.

When the landlord, a portly redneck woman, discovered we had a cat in the trailer, she said we broke the lease and needed to move out. Getting rid of Boo wasn't an option for my emotional state, so we moved back to Florida and lived in a rented doublewide trailer with a fireplace. Boo enjoyed the cool breeze that blew through the fireplace and spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to get into it. I was always afraid he would get in, and attempt to climb up the pipe and get stuck.

Boo stayed by my side, especially during the nights when my urges to drink or use substances were the strongest. Each morning, he would wander in and out of the little pet door on one of the two back doors in the trailer, choosing to do his business outside, which saved us a lot on litter. Eventually, we stopped buying litter altogether because he preferred going outside—yet another trait that made him seem more like a dog than a cat.

I can't remember which hurricane it was, but we rode it out in my mom's apartment in Pensacola with my dad's golden retriever, Pat, my sister Becki, my brother-in-law Andy, and their orange cat, Peanut. Boo got along well with cantakerous Peanut. When my dad, Boo, and I returned to find our trailer park flooded with about two feet of water, my dad drove his pickup truck through the water to reach the front stairs of our trailer. Boo wasn't interested in going inside; when we opened the door of the truck, he jumped into the water and started swimming, exploring his surroundings. I knew he would come back home safely.

As I prepared to leave Florida for my next adventure, I was looking for accommodations that would allow me to bring Boo along. He wasn't just my pet; he was my sober buddy and my conscience when it came to staying clean. Tragically, one afternoon, my brother-in-law brought devastating news: Boo had been hit and killed by a neighbor speeding through the trailer park in the type of truck men drive to compensate for their manhood. The neighbor claimed Boo was already dead or asleep in the driveway, but I knew that wasn't true, Boo was a smart little boy. My kitty, who kept me sober and even swam through the trailer park, was gone.

After that, I vowed never to get attached to a cat again, until many years later wheen Terry and I ended up with my mom's kitty, Callie. Sadly, after five months of caring for Callie, she was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer and had to be put to sleep.

Boo was more than just a pet; he was a lifeline during a turbulent period of my life. His companionship provided me with the emotional support I needed to stay on track and face my challenges. While losing Boo was devastating, the bond we shared left a lasting impact on me. Pets like Boo remind us of the importance of companionship and the strength we can find in unexpected places. Even though my journey with Boo ended tragically, the memories and lessons from our time together continue to inspire me to persevere through life's challenges.

I'd love to hear your thoughts and experiences with pets who've made a difference in your life. Please feel free to leave comments or share your own stories. If you enjoyed this story and would like to support my writing, any contributions are greatly appreciated and help me continue sharing these heartfelt tales. Thank you for your kindness and support!

From Mama's Kitchen: The Story and Recipe—Celebrating My Mama's Spaghetti

Hello, dear readers! (and my sister, Becki),

Today, I want to share a special entry dedicated to my mama's spaghetti, a dish that was loved by many in our family, even though it wasn't my personal favorite due to my aversion to tomatoes. This story is meant to highlight the uniqueness of my mama's cooking and to clarify that her spaghetti was truly cherished by those who enjoyed it.

A few days ago, I wrote about my humorous journey with spaghetti and how it was never really my thing. If it seemed like I was making fun of my mama's cooking, I want to set the record straight, that was not my intent. The story was not about her cooking, but rather my general dislike for the dish, no matter who cooks it. While I may have a love-hate relationship with spaghetti, I have great respect for my mama's culinary skills. She excelled in Home Economics during her junior high and high school years, and many of her recipes were based on what she learned during the 1950s and 1960s. Her spaghetti sauce was homemade, and though ketchup was added sometimes, it was never the main ingredient. This addition of ketchup was likely due to the occasional absence of tomato paste, adding a bit more acidity and texture to the final product.

To be fair, my dislike for spaghetti somewhat stems from my dislike of tomatoes, bell peppers, and onions—all of which my mama loved and used generously in her cooking. Despite my distaste for these ingredients, there were some dishes my mama cooked that I absolutely loved, like her fried pork chops, tuna casserole, and even liver and onions, which I enjoyed despite my usual dislike of onions.

Back to the tomato thing—although I didn't like tomatoes, I did love lasagna and pizza, both of which my mama and my sister were amazing at making. My sister, Becki Manning Dannelly, especially loved our mama's spaghetti. This post is dedicated to her.

Pheroldine “Dee” Manning Lyons' Spaghetti Sauce

Ingredients:

• 1 pound of ground beef (the ratio doesn’t matter because we got whatever was on sale or cheapest)

• 1 cup chopped onion

• 1 cup of bell peppers, diced

• 2 cloves garlic, minced (she usually just used minced garlic from a jar or garlic powder)

• 1 14-ounce can of whole tomatoes, drained and cut up

• 1 14-ounce can stewed tomatoes, cut up, reserve the liquid to add to sauce

• 1 6-ounce can tomato paste

• 1/4 cup parsley (I don’t think she ever had any on hand and since you don’t taste it, it’s not important)

• 1 tablespoon brown sugar (dark or light, she used whatever was on hand)

• 1 teaspoon salt

• 1 1/2 teaspoons dried oregano, crushed

• 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme, crushed

• 1 bay leaf

Instructions:

1. In a saucepan, combine onion, bell pepper, meat, and garlic; cook until meat is browned and onion is tender.

2. Skim off excess grease; add the rest of the ingredients along with 2 cups of water.

3. Simmer, uncovered, until sauce is thick, which usually takes a few hours. Your house will have a distinct tomato-ish smell; stir occasionally.

4. Remove bay leaf.

Serve over hot spaghetti pasta, or like my mama would do, just dump the hot spaghetti into the pot as a one pot wonder and stir it all together then serve on a plate…with a squirt of ketchup on top or grated parmesan cheese if we had it (and if the container wasn’t empty from my sister and I randomly eating handfuls of it).

Don't forget the garlic bread! Mama would use whatever bread we had on hand for garlic bread—hot dog buns, hamburger buns, sandwich bread, and if we were lucky, she made some from her delicious homemade sourdough bread.

This sauce recipe was sort of the same she used for her lasagna but without the bell pepper, which we didn’t get often because it involved a bit more work. But when we did, it was basically party night for our family. Especially since she doubled the ingredients to ensure she had enough meat sauce to fill her 9x13 baking pan that she used for everything from cake to casseroles. I’ll share her actual recipe for lasagna in the future, but for now, enjoy my mama’s spaghetti and feel free to make your own tweaks.

Thank you for taking the time to read this post. I'd love to hear your thoughts and memories about your own family recipes in the comments below. If you enjoyed this story and recipe, feel free to share it with your friends. Your support, whether through comments or contributions, means the world to me and helps keep this blog going!

Happy cooking!