No, I'm not dead!

Contrary to popular belief (and you know who you are, ladies) I have not been abducted by the Aliens of the 2012 Apocalypse, sold into white slavery, or joined the Church of Scientology. Truth is, 2012 was a year of ups and downs and downright middles (mostly middles, which is fine by me.) It seems the Good Lord had indeed worked in mysterious ways to help me lose 15 pounds and get my lazy fanny off my chesterfield sofa and out into the Big Wide World. Here’s a recap of my roller coaster of a year.

January

The New Year started off with a bang, literally. My microwave blew up while I was cooking a bag of Orville Redenbacher’s Churro Flavor Gourmet Big Bag® popcorn. Turns out all the Churro Flavored Big Bags® were recalled due to a factory malfunction as too many kernels were accidentally added to the bags, a fact I wish I would have read on the Google Food & Drug News tab before I set down to watch The Real House Cats of Beverly Hills on Animal Planet that fateful day in January. Since then, I have switched to Weight Watcher’s Butterless Blast® Single Serving Popcorn. It tastes a bit like packing peanuts spritzed with corn oil but it’s only 11 calories a serving and it has yet to break my new Emerson Round-A-Bout® 700 Watt microwave in canary (which looks great on the counter next to my Aunt Jemima cookie jar, don’t you think?) 

By the way, I have officially re-boycotted Sears since they wouldn’t refund my first replacement microwave oven (the lousy Kenmore PowR Spark® 2800 Watt Microwave and Convection Combo) after it died 1 day after my 30-day warranty expired. I advise y’all do the same.

February

February was a very wet and cold month. I caught a cold and had post nasal drip for almost 2 weeks. I tried every over-the-counter product and then every home remedy I could find on the internet to get rid of that durn stuff. Here are some tips from me to you the next time you catch a cold that hangs on:

• a Neti pot works better at watering a bonsai than draining your sinus

• you can pay $14 at Walgreens for TheraFlu Severely Vicious Cold & Cough Hot Tea® or just make a cup of Lipton’s chamomile and add a tablespoon of chili powder for about 49 cents

• Bum Boosa® Eco-Friendly Bamboo Sourced tissues are rough on a tender nose

• sniffing a pinch of crushed red pepper will definitely make you sneeze (about 100 times in 1 minute!) but won’t necessarily clear your sinuses and will do absolutely nothing for your sweaty feet

• let the coffee cool completely before doing the Dr. Oz Coffee Enema Cleanse from the October issue of Oprah’s O Magazine.

March

Once I recovered from my cold, I decided that the water weight I’d lost from blowing my nose was slowly creeping back onto my hips, so I decided to join Swerves Fitness For Olderly Ladies. They opened up a Swerves in the strip mall on Druilla St., in the same stall that the Candle-erius House of Wax and Gifts used to be (before it melted in that brutal heat wave last summer.) I wasn’t sure I’d like “working out” at a gym but the inside of Swerves looks more like a Georgia O’Keefe painting than a high school locker room (and smells like fresh baked vanilla cookies thanks to the Candle-erius disaster.) Sooner than later I was sweating’ to and with the oldies, and I had dropped 7 pounds! Now I can say I’m addicted to both the elliptical machine and Dr. Oz, whose program is strangely always playing on the TVs no matter what time I do my workouts.

April

In April I got a two-dollar bill in change from the stamp machine at Piggy Wiggly. It was a slow month.

May

I lost another 5 pounds in May, but sadly not from my workouts. Seems I got a touch of food poisoning from a spoiled funnel cake (or roasted turkey leg…I’m still not sure which) I ate at the Beaver County Strawberry Festival. For 2 excruciatingly long days my body was like a water hose cut at both ends.

June

Bought my tickets and paid my down-payment for my Bingo Retreat in September (see September).

July

July was god-awful hot in Texas, one of the worst on record. The mayor of Beanville, home of the state’s tallest thermometer, said on TV that the mercury gushed out of the top of the broken thermometer like a geyser on the hottest day. As for myself, I was sweating like a fat bird in a bin-bag at a barn dance at the Holy Condolences Church Independence Day Picnic and Bake Sale Benefit (polyester does not breathe.) It was so scorching that my own contribution of Virgin Mary Miracle Meringues melted flat before they sold out. I have decided to share my recipe with you if you were one of the unfortunate many who missed out on trying this delectable treat. Beatrice Barrett swears you can see the face of the Virgin Mary in them if you squint real hard with your good eye.

Virgin Mary Miracle Meringues

(2 Weight Watcher Points)

From the Kitchen of Betty Sanchez
 

3 egg whites

1 packet Sweet N Low

½  t vanilla

pinch of salt

¼ t cream of tartar

1.     Before you start anything preheat your oven to 225.

2.     Put your egg whites in a bowl and beat AT LEAST 5 minutes until they are stiff. The longer you beat, the better.  After the egg whites are stiff, add the cream of tartar WHILE YOU ARE BEATING THE EGG WHITES. Add it SLOWLY, just a teensy bit at a time.

3.     Beat for another minute or so and then add the Sweet N Low, SLOWLY, and WHILE STILL BEATING.

4.     Repeat with the vanilla and salt. Plop blobs onto a ungreased cookie sheet.

5.     Bake for 45 minutes to an hour. I still haven’t figured out the exact timing. If you go too short, then the inside tastes kind of raw and you can feel it dissolving on your tongue. If it goes too long, then it crumbles practically on contact and you end up choking from the dryness. At 45 minutes, the tops start to get a little brown. At this point I stay near the oven to make sure they don’t’ burn. I think I turned the oven off after 55 minutes.

6.     Turn off the oven but leave the cookies in there. Some recipes I seen said you can leave them in there with the door shut overnight, but I get impatient and hungry so I only leave them in there for about 20 minutes.

August

In August I went to Sacramento with my dear grandson Jeremy who lives in Los Angeles, or, more accurately, the Valley (as his college friend Leonard repeatedly reminded me in a sweet but firm manner). I met up with Jeremy and Leonard at LAX and was shuttled to their charmingly renovated bungalow in Valley Glade, which is “Studio City adjacent”, as Leonard says. Turns out that many of the neighborhoods in the Valley are adjacent to someplace ritzier, but I thought the boys’ house was the nicest on the whole street! They had recently added a gazebo to the side yard and it was nice to set outside in the California partial sun and sip on Caipirinha cocktails while listening to Ella Fitzgerald on their wireless speakers. The next day we piled into Leonard’s Cadillac convertible and headed north to Sacramento. Ten hours later, which Leonard said was normally a 5-hour drive if it weren’t for the blasted construction on the 5, we arrived at the home of Jose Gonzales (fellow Texan and onetime news anchor of the UHF station KRUD, Channel 23 in Abilene, in the early 80s) and his friend from college, Carl. Those boys were so sweet to this little old lady from East Texas and had exquisite taste in decor, antique furniture and home renovations. Jose and Carl took us on a side trip for tastings in the Sacramento Wine Country and I tried red wine for the first time. At the di Arie Vineyard, I found the Zinfandels a bit too “complex” and lacking the “heady citrus notes” of my green apple wine from Costco but Jeremy said I had matured my palette just by swirling it around my tongue before spitting it out into the bucket on the counter.

September

I went on a Bingo Retreat in Veracruz Mexico. I know what you’re saying, “Why on earth would anyone want to spend all their time indoors playing bingo surrounded by lush tropical rainforests and picturesque coastal lagoons in the birthplace of Kahlúa?” Well, I have to tell you there was no shortage of mudslides being drunk at the pre-paid dinners and daytrip lunches along the coastal towns and ancient ruins we visited every day. I saw more ornate Catholic churches than I have toes, and playing R-A-T-S (a shorter form of Bingo) at the apex of the El Tajin pyramid was nothing short of a religious experience! While I was calling numbers during the Lightning Round under a clear blue sky, a bolt of real lightning shot down from the Heavens and struck Edith Jean Haddock on the top of her head. Luckily she was wearing her rubber Croc clogs with the Dr. Scholl’s All-Weather Comfort Insole and escaped (relatively) unharmed. Bingo turned out not to be the main attraction of the retreat and I must say I’m more than thrilled to have stepped out of my comfort zone and into the well-worn shoes of the native Mexicans who so graciously opened their hearts and doors (especially after the lightning blast singed off most of Edith Jean’s already thinning hair) to us “strangers from the north”. A mere eleven days before, I had left Texas with a bag full of daubers and bingo balls, and I returned home with a gaggle of new lady friends, a pocketbook full of memories, a better grasp of the Spanish language and a sharpened Tex-Mex accent. So “Muchas gracias mis nuevos amigos! Muchas indeed!” It was the trip of a lifetime and I can’t wait to go on the next retreat, wherever the Bingo Gods might take me.

October

In late October I gained 2 pounds, which I blame on the Possum Hill Outlet Mall. This year the mall hosted a Safe-Tease Halloween Fun-stival so kids could trick-or-treat without the fear of getting a razorblade-laced apple or poisoned Pixie Stix from a stranger. The result of this debacle was 250 kids getting pink eye from their Haunted Gallows Spook House and me eating the entire M&M/Mars 2-pounder Candy Assortment® while waiting for no-show trick-or-treaters on Halloween night.

November

Normally for Thanksgiving I don a hair net (actually, it takes 2 to completely cover my classic beehive hairdo) and dish out fish sticks and tartar sauce for the less fortunate at the Lord Gimme Shelter shelter, which is an annex of the Righteous Presbyterian church on Wandering Jew Drive and Seventh Avenue. But somehow I always find it a test of my patience as a god-fearing Christian to reserve judgment on the hordes of homeless and over-grown families that shuffle down the food line demanding an extra jalapeno cornbread muffin or a double-helping of Nilla Wafer banana pudding only to leave it on their plate after they’ve eaten all the marshmallow topping off their candied yams. Well this year I decided to celebrate Thanksgiving with my fellow Christian neighbors who know which side their bread is buttered on, literally, at a progressive dinner party. First course was eggnog and cheese crackers at the Simpson’s house, then on to a full on Thanksgiving potluck (complete with green bean casserole by Yours Truly) at Liza’s house and then mudslides and pie, pie and more pie at my ranch style tract, which I had decorated early for Christmas. This year I picked “Santa” as my theme and had covered my brand new 7-foot pre-lit Flip-A-Tree® in 500 Santa head ornaments with real reindeer fur beards. It is a sight to behold, isn't it? We had so much food left over from the potluck that my Christian sensibilities took hold and I wrapped up the half-ham and gave it to Ernest, 2-doors down who, although not homeless, is less fortunate because he’s a heathen.

December

I split my time most of December between planning my annual Birthday/Christmas party and stocking up for the Apocalypse. Being a Christmas baby is a double-edged sword, as anybody who is born on or near a holiday is painfully aware. And if it’s a gift-giving holiday (like Christmas) it’s particularly tough since we tend to get 1 combination present instead of 2 separate gifts (like everybody else in the world) and a store-bought birthday cake in the shape of a manger or menorah. But Momma always said I was the best Christmas present she ever got (besides cataract surgery and a toilet installed inside the house.) I like to remember Momma in December as I wrap up Christmas gifts for the grandkids with the funnies or paper decorated with pointy party hats, balloons, and “Happy Birthday!” plastered across it. Momma was a pistol and I like to think I got my moxie from her side of the family tree! Well my party was another big success with everyone having such a great time that the last stragglers were still hanging in there well past 9pm. 

I’ve got loads of pictures and 3-second movie clips on my Samsung flip phone of all my wonderful friends and family and memories to last a lifetime. And, thanks to the Apocalypse That Never Came, I’ve also got a gas mask, 250 cans of evaporated milk, a gross of D batteries, and enough tuna fish to kill a small army from mercury poisoning.

 God Bless You and Yours in 2013!

And as always ladies, eyes down.

Betty

So Sumi!

Ladies,

Need a quick and easy salad to serve at a summer picnic or gathering? Well here's just the thing! Whenever I bring this delish dish to a pot-luck or pool party, the ladies devour it and ask for more. Now you can be a hit at your pot-luck as well!

Betty's So Sumi Summer Salad (Party Size)
2 bags ready-made cole slaw from the salad section of your grocery
2 pkgs of Chicken flavor Ramen Noodles, uncooked!
6 T rice vinegar
3 scallion, chopped
1/4 c olive oil
1/4 c sugar
1/2 c slivered almonds
2 T sesame seeds
salt and pepper to taste

In a clean jar, combine your oil, sugar, vinegar and spice packets from ramen noodles and scallions. Shake and set aside. Over low heat, toast almonds until golden. Add sesame seeds and toast a teensy bit longer. Be careful not to burn them because you'll have to throw out the whole mess and start over. Nothing ruins this salad quicker than burnt seeds! Put the uncooked noodles in a large zippy bag and give it some whacks with a rolling pin or other heavy object, enough to crumble the noodles. Dump in your nuts and seeds. Now take a large bowl, the bags of slaw, the jar and your baggie to your party. Right before serving open the bags of slaw into your bowl, tump in the dressing and toss. Cover with contents of baggie. Eat all at once as it won't keep.

Betty

Cookin' Up Some Holiday Cheer!

Hola Ladies,

Some of you have repeatedly asked for my secret recipes which I have guarded so carefully over the years. Well since my wooden recipe box has either gone missing or has been stolen recently, I have decided to start publishing some of you girl's favorites on my blog before they end up on YouTube or Facebook by the would-be thief claiming them as her own!

We'll start with two of my most popular party appetizers, as evidenced by the empty Tupperware I almost certainly take home every time I serve them at a potluck or fun-raiser!


Away In A Mangers
1(12 oz.) bag butterscotch chips
10 oz. Chow mein noodles (dry)
1 c dry roasted peanuts

First off, Chow Mein Noodles are NOT regular noodles like macaroni, but the crunchy kind you see at fancy salad bars. So DON'T COOK THE CHOW MEIN NOODLES! USE THEM DRY. On to the recipe: Melt butterscotch chips in microwave for 2 minutes and mix until creamy. Make sure to stir out any lumps. Add peanuts and chow mein noodles and mix until peanuts and noodles are coated with melted chips. Drop by spoonfuls onto waxed paper and let harden before eating. Now ladies, these may not look like much (unless you're a Virgin looking all over Jerusalem for a crib to put Your Baby in) but they are QUITE TASTY!


Betty Sanchez's Fat & Nutty Blue Cheese Log
8 oz. cream cheese
4 oz. crumbled blue cheese
1 c grated sharp cheddar
1 T finely chopped green onions
1 t Worcestershire sauce (a little more if you like it smoky)
1/2 c chopped walnuts
1 glass of white wine


Bring the cheeses to room temp. Mix in a medium bowl until combined well. Drink the wine while you mix this all up because it can get mighty hard to stir all that cheese! Stir in onions and Worcestershire sauce. Add a teensy bit of wine to the cheese if the mixture is too stiff. Chill in the fridge til firm (about a hour). Scoop it out with a rubber spatula and plop it onto waxed paper. Shape into a long, fat log about the diameter of a Ritz cracker. Roll in chopped nuts and store in the fridge. Let stand 15 minutes before serving with Ritz crackers. Follow with a breath mint or else make sure everyone else eats some too!

I'll be posting more of my crowd-pleasers and cooking tips so check back often!

Til next time ladies,

Eyes Down!

True Beauty Comes From The Outside

Hola Ladies!

Well, at the request of a friend who shall remain nameless (Barbara, wink-wink) I am posting some of my most guarded beauty secrets here on the World Wide Web for everyone to read. Barbara wasn't the first person to comment on my youthful appearance and my stylish make-up, if I may say so myself, so I feel both flattered and obliged to share these tips with my girls (for those who don't need them and a few who do--you know who you are. LOL!)

HAIR DO's & DON'Ts
First and foremost are my hairdo tips, since my stylish beehive is perhaps my most striking attribute. For those of you girls who still have a full head of hair (and I thank the Lord Above that I do, although WallyWigs.com carries some beautifully life-like acrylic wigs at reasonable prices if yours is too thin to tease.), have I got a tip for you. Now ladies, if you spend 15 dollars for a cut-color-and-curl at the hair salon, it's a simple matter of economics not not to care for it properly. I don't know about you, but my last name is not Roosevelt and my money-tree died during the first four years of the Bush Administration, so popping into the Hello Gorgeous! Hair Salon every week for a touch-up is out of the question. The best way to keep your beehive freshly stacked is, right before you go to bed, wrap the whole thing in toilet tissue. Don't get stingy with it either. I go through a whole roll every 3 days and I keep plenty of backup in my nightstand. Once you've got it wrapped nice and thick, you want to slip a plastic grocery bag over it to keep it from unraveling while you sleep. Just hook the handles under your earlobes or tie them in a bow under your chin to make it snug. Next, you'll want to prop two extra-long body pillows on either side of you to keep you from rolling over in the middle of the night. I sleep like a corpse with my hands folded gently over my bosom. In the morning you simply remove the bag and unwrap your head (using as much of the toilet paper for your morning business as you can and flush the rest, though not all at once or you'll be calling a plumber) and Wallah! you're good to go!

PUTTING YOUR FACE ON
I never leave the house without my face on and I suggest the same for you. It's a hard and true fact that society expects us girls to wear make-up when we're in public, and honestly, I'm happy about it. Embrace your outer beauty, ladies! If God had wanted us to walk around without eyeshadow and lipstick He wouldn't have given the breath of life to Merle Norman, God rest her soul. The trick to applying and buying make-up is to first find out what "season" you are. Your season is determined by your skin, eye, and hair-color (natural or otherwise). Here is a chart of the 4 seasons.

Choose the one that most looks like you. Once you determine your season, drive yourself down to Woolworth's on 7th. They offer a complimentary make-over (half-face only) done by Myrtle Harper. The make-up counter is all the way in the back of the store behind Automotive. Blink and you'll miss it. I suggest having a make-over at least once every 12 years so you can keep up with current trends. Once you get back home you'll want to try applying make-up yourself. I put my face on in my powder room with the blinds drawn and by candlelight. That way, once I leave the house, I know I'll be wearing enough cosmetics whether I'm being seen in a dimly lit back office or full-on sun.

Keep some magazines handy if you need good make-up reference and want to experiment with different styles. Currently, I'm using J4 Burnt Branch eyebrow pencil for my brows and eyeliner. Be sure to make the brows nice and dark. Nothing is more disturbing than a face with no eyebrows. Then I fill in the area from lid to brow with Y1 Hawaiian Mist Sky Blue eyeshadow. Next I top it off with G2 You're A Peach lipstick on my lips and a dab on each cheek. It only takes 2 minutes from start to finish, if you don't count gluing the false eyelashes on first.

KEEP THE MOTOR RUNNING
One of the most important ways to stay young and beautiful is to take care of your body. After all, the Good Lord Above only gave you one. They say the body is a temple, so where do you want to be living: in one of those ratty evangelical strip-mall "iglesias" or the Sistine Chapel? Taking care of your temple means watering it...a lot. I drink a gallon of water every day. Sure, I go tinkle almost all day long but it keeps my eyes bright and burns off extra calories running back and forth to the john. And speaking of calories, what lady doesn't enjoy a nice cheesy casserole or Jello Dark Chocolate instant pudding more than she should? You too can keep trim with just a few days of exercise a week. Every other day I walk the Jumbo Outlet Mall with Eugenia Plymouth down in Roundtree. I carry a can of beans in each hand and flap my arms like a bird to give my underarm-flab a good workout. I'm just careful to walk on Eugenia's left side now since her cataract is in her right eye and once I almost knocked her clean over with my elbow.

THE RIGHT PANTSUIT
I cannot emphasize enough how important the right pantsuit is to a girl. Nothing is more embarrassing than seeing a pear-shaped woman in an hour-glass pantsuit. This is a must: you've got to try on your pantsuit in a full-length mirror BEFORE you buy it. Or at least have a supportive friend with a critical eye accompany you to Penney's when you shop. As for fabric, I'll say one word about double-knit polyester: SURE-FIRE! I know polyester doesn't breathe but it holds an ironed crease well and won't show a wrinkle, even after a two-hour trip on my Cushman Scooter through windy west Texas. And I've got a picture to prove it. You can't go wrong with poly! And always, always wear a scarf wherever you go. A nice scarf adds a splash of color to any outfit and is invaluable for keeping your hair neat and tidy on blustery days.

Well I've got to head out for my kundalini pilates class now and my instructor Trudy hates it when any of us girls is late. Last week she locked the door at 7 sharp and poor Sadie Sawyers sat outside in the freezing rain with no umbrella for an hour after her husband Herb dropped her off at the First Baptist Bodhisattva Inter-Denominational Muli-Cultural School and Rec Center then sped away before she could stop him.

Til next time "ladies", eyes down.

"Bingo" Betty Sanchez

Holy Hand to God!

Hola Ladies,

For the past 2 years I have been leading a Sunday School program for pre-K kids at the Crucified Redeemer First Baptist Church in Sweetsville on the second Sunday of every month. With my "Puppets Of Praise" program, I teach the Word of the Good Lord to our future Christian leaders through colorful, dramatic, and cleverly disguised lessons of love and tolerance. It has been a richly rewarding source of joy to see the bright and wondrous faces of young ones as I reenact some of the more outlandish fables from the Good Book, such as Jonah and the Whale, Eve & the Serpent, and The Rapture. Last year, at the Regional Redeemer Bazaar Extravaganza I won a Golden Shepard Award for my production of "What Do You Noah, It's Raining: the True Story of Noah and the Ark in One Act", which I wrote and performed all by myself! It was only the second place bronze Golden Shepard, not the first place gold Golden Shepard, but as Nanna used to say "Second place is first runner up".

This year, I had planned on going for the gold, literally, with a musical version of Our Lord Jesus' many miracles, which I knew would make me a shoo-in, considering that I had recently acquired a deluxe magic kit for two dollars at the Semi-Annual Ironic Masonic Lodge Swap Meet and had worked several show-stopping illusions into the show. Of course, since my audiences are mostly under five, I had used my artistic license to modify the more mature stories to suit younger viewers. Some of the musical numbers I had written were "Turning Water Into OJ", "Raise Up, Sleepy Head, Raise Up", and "He Cured The Leopards".

As you all are well aware, times are tighter than a new pair of boots, so when the Director of Special Events and Programs at the church, Gerald Smalls, informed me that he had arranged for an intern to assist me with my puppet show, I was thrilled! The memory of painstakingly making finger puppets of two of every species of All God's Living Creatures for "Noah" was still fresh as newborn's breath so the thought of having someone else paper-mâché 4000 loaves and fishes was welcome news to me.

My intern's name is Quentin Tortorelli, who I have since learned is the nephew of Gerald Smalls, my "boss" at the church. Quentin arrived to our first meeting at the Super Sunday School Annex wearing sunglasses (indoors!), a baseball cap turned backwards, and a black t-shirt featuring a disturbing image of a very unattractive woman named Marilyn Manson. Gerald introduced Quentin (who barely said a word) and then proceeded to break the news to me that our current musical production of "JC's Miracle Musical Spectacle!" would be put on indefinite hold, as Quentin would be producing and directing his own puppet production for the Regional Competition. Gerald explained that Quentin was required to perform community service as the result of a Class C Misdemeanor in Hollywood, where he is from, so I would be assisting him with his show! I was crestfallen, to put it politely, but I proudly consider myself a team player so I bit my tongue and stepped down.

After Gerald left, Quentin announced that since he was a film student for seven years, he was basing our new show on a movie, not a children's tale or classic bible story. We were now, I was informed, putting on an all-puppet version of "The Passion of The Christ", a film originally directed by Mel Gibson (that I learned grossed $612 million dollars worldwide), and one which I have not seen.


Mel Gibson is that handsome actor who starred in the charming movie "Maverick" (number 14 on my list of Betty's Favorite Films of All Time And Then Some). However, the last movie I saw Mr. Gibson in, "Braveheart", was just dreadful (sorry Mel), which I had been tricked into watching while babysitting my neighbor's twins, Robby and Bobby Baker. Those devilish boys had convinced me to rent it for them at Blockbuster by telling me a fib. They swore up and down it was a cartoon about a scrappy little dragon, however "Braveheart" was violent and gory, and the only thing on earth I've ever witnessed that comes close to the time I discovered a fox loose in my Grandpa Vernon's hen house when I was ten. My, what a slaughter! I can't even look at a drumstick or hot wing since without getting queasy. When I asked Quentin if I could read his script, he said it was "still in his head" and "mostly improv anyway" (whatever that means!). Then he gave me some fuzzy drawings which had been did on a soggy paper napkin from some establishment called "Mother Lode". These, I was informed, were the character puppets I was to create for Quentin's "Masterpiece" (as he kept calling the play from that day forward).

For the next two weeks I worked feverishly on the puppets, trying to bring Quentin's vision to life as faithfully as I possibly could. All in all I had built 8 puppets: Pontius Pilate, JC Himself, two Roman guards and, due to budget restraints, only 4 of the 12 Apostles (but at least the important ones!) Quentin was rarely around during those two weeks and when he did show, he reeked of marijuana (yes, ladies, I am familiar with that smell---I do have grandkids, you know!) and spent most of his time working on the show's pyrotechnics. Can you believe it? A puppet show with fireworks? Indoors?? At the end of the second week I had just about had enough of Quentin and his shenanigans. Finally, he arrived one afternoon to check on my work when I had just finished painting a tear on the face of the Jesus puppet. Quentin looked at the puppet, disgusted, and started yelling at me to add more bruises and dried blood to His face. When I told him that was no way to disrespect our Lord And Savior, he snatched the puppet out of my hand and started splattering it with red paint! Now, I'm not sure if I was high on Divine Reverence or the fumes from the rubber cement (earlier I had glued a little whip into the hand of a Roman soldier), but I threw down my paintbrush and quit on the spot! I told him I wanted no part in his "Masterpiece" and asked him kindly to remove my name from any and every part of the production, to which he replied "Gladly, you old --BLEEP--!" Well, my heavens, I was so flabbergasted and upset that I almost ran the stop sign at Charity Ave. and First St. while racing home on my scooter. And there were school-children present!

Well, to cut the story short, the Regional Redeemer Bazaar Extravaganza went on this year without Yours Truly. I couldn't even bring myself to attend the Bazaar, much less watch the puppet presentations that night. However, the very next day, Gerald called me to apologize and to inform me that Quentin did not win the competition with his "The Passion of the Christ in 4-D" puppet show. He also said, in fact, the First Baptist Church had been banned indefinitely from entering the competition again! Turns out that Quentin's pyrotechnic "blood bomb" had set off the fire alarm during the performance and seventy-five men, women and children, wet and screaming, had fled the auditorium covered in over 4 gallons of fake blood.

Luckily, my name was in no way associated with the debacle, so I will retain my Gold Membership Status in the Holy Hand Puppet Guild. All I have to say, is "Thank the Lord, for He works in Mysterious Ways!" For now, I will put my production of "JC's Miracle Musical Spectacle!" on the ubiquitous back-burner and stick my hands in the bingo blower, where they belong.

Here are the names of last week's winners:

$5 prizes go to: Amy Flores, Lenora Davis
$10 prizes go to: Barbara Black, Vera Wiley
$20 prizes go to: Joyce Jackson, Frances Lewis
And the $25 grand prize goes to Kiki Goldstein

Til next time "ladies", eyes down.

"Bingo" Betty Sanchez

Oh, My Stars!

Hola Ladies,

First and foremost, there is something I must get off my chest. I have a confession to make and although I am filled with shame and remorse at the moment, I am sure to ease my burden and lighten my soul by divulging the truth, no matter how it may tarnish my reputation as an honest and open Person of Faith. There are very few people in my life whom I do not welcome with open arms, and fewer whom I am too embarrassed to associate with in public. "Live and Let Live" has always been a motto I could proudly announce, regardless of the person in question, be it a Muslim, Transsexual, Right-Wing Republican, or Vegetarian. Still, even my dearest of friends have been hereto unaware of a skeleton I've kept hidden deep in the recesses of my family closet for years. Her name is Dottie.

Well, that was her name, when she was a sensible, God-fearing Christian like myself, but still, she is my baby sister. Now she goes by the name Rain Ra Yin and lives on the outskirts of a small village near Mt. Shasta in a yurt. Dottie and I were once very close siblings and we even sang in the Gospel choir together every Sunday at the 8 am service, twice on Christmas and Easter; she a contralto, me a soprano. Those were the days well before she met and fell in love with Louie, a lazy jazz musician who played sax in a Yoko Ono cover band in the seventies. I didn't care for Louie and his overwhelming patchouli odor nor his experimental "music". But Dottie fell head over heels, which, to this day, remains a mystery to me. Pretty soon, Dottie dropped out of the church choir, started taking Kundalini yoga classes, moved into a commune with Louie, and stopped shaving her legs. Although disgusted with her self-initiated exodus from Organized Religion (and Society Itself!), I earnestly tried to keep in touch with my baby sister. But the commune didn't even have running water, let alone a pay phone. Over the years, I heard through the grapevine of Dottie's eventual escape from the commune, her tumultuous break-up with Louie, and her dabbling in various and sundry so-called "spiritual movements" such as est, The Forum, The Program, Dianetics, and Star Trek. Never once did she try to contact me. In a few years, she had sold all her worldly possessions, bought a Volkswagen Vanagon with a hippie named Fran, and moved out of Texas.

I feared I would never see my baby sister again. The shame and guilt were too much to bear, so I soon "forgot" that I even had a baby sister, lost soul that she was. Then I got a phone call out of the blue while trimming my Wisteria about two years ago. You guessed it! It was Dottie, er, Rain, reaching out to touch someone. She told me all about her trials and tribulations over the 33 years we'd been apart, her run-ins with the law, addictions to pills and booze, and the difficult and emotional process of her Past Life Regression. She even asked my forgiveness for deserting me, her own flesh and blood, even though I suspect it was prompted by her Sponsor nudging her through her "Amends" (Step 9 of the 12 Step Recovery in AA). We talked, and laughed and cried and reminisced for over twenty minutes that day. Every once in a while I get a postcard in the mail, hoping against hope that it's from Dottie, telling me that she found Jesus, moved out of California or got a job. But, the postcards mostly come from my cousin Becky and her husband Ray as they drive around our great country in their Airstream, trying to cross every state line before Ray dies, bless his soul. Then, suddenly, again, I got a Christmas card in an envelope with no return address. You guessed it, again! It was from Dottie. It was a lovely foil-embossed card depicting Santy Claus and his big red bag on a rooftop, as he was fixing to plunge down a chimney. And nestled amongst the bright paper packages and toys in his bag was none other than the smiling face of Baby Jesus. So cute! Inside was scribbled a single, simple message: "To the future. Your baby sister, Dot".

I nearly fell out of my chair, when suddenly a piece of folded paper fell out of the card itself. It was a gift certificate good for One Astrological Reading from Phyllis Browne, Astrologer to the Stars. Literally! Miss Browne has given astrology readings and psychic advice to all of Hollywood's biggest names, including Faye Dunaway, Vanessa Redgrave, Marlon Brando and Nipsey Russell. However, after the Stock Market Crash of 1987, Miss Browne moved back to Texas and is still giving readings in her apartment in the town of Poe, just a 45-minute drive from my house. As a Believer in the Almighty and a Righteous Christian, I am wont to dismiss tomfoolery such as Astrology, Ouija boards and Global Warming as hogwash, but I have resolved to be more open-minded in 2009 and try to step foot outside of my comfort-zone once in a while. Whatever future Miss Phyllis Browne might predict for me, surely I would be safe in God's hands.

While attending a festival in New Orleans called Southern Decadence, my grandson Jeremy paid ten dollars to have his fortune told by a ninety-year-old black woman, claiming to be a Voodoo Priestess, in the parking lot of a laundromat. She "saw" into the future by rattling a cup filled with real human teeth and then dumping them out onto one of those place mat menus from a Chinese restaurant. Depending upon how they landed (root up, crown down) and where on the place mat (Chicken Chow Mein, Schezuan Shrimp), their configurations revealed either fortuity or doom for the aspirant. Jeremy said he never really deciphered her ominous $10 prophecy because apparently most of the teeth in the cup were her own, and her gummy speech was too hard to understand.

The day of my appointment with Miss Browne was dark and stormy outside and the drive out to Poe took over and hour on my Cushman Scooter. When I arrived at her doorstep, I looked like I was rode hard and put away wet, literally! I knocked hard on the door two or three times, until finally I heard a raspy woman's voice ask "Who is it?". Some psychic she was! I was nearly 20 minutes late for my appointment so who else could it be? She let me in and seemed more than perturbed about my tardiness, even when I tried to explain the dangers of riding a two-wheeler on wet asphalt.

Her apartment was dark as a cave. Every window was covered in heavy velvet curtains, and the only two table lamps she did have turned on were obscured by purple gypsy scarves. It was so shadowy inside that I nearly tripped over 2 of her 11 cats, which had tangled themselves around my shins. At her dining room table, I gave her my birth date (December 25, 1945) and the time and place of my birth, which she entered into a program on her PC. It printed out a strange circular chart with criss-cross lines, which looked like the dream catcher I have hanging in the bay window of my kitchen. This was my birth chart, which indicated the position of the stars and planets in the Heavens at the exact moment I first took breath on God's Green Earth, and apparently mapped out my personality and my future. She studied the chart for a good while, mostly frowning, and her heavily penciled eyebrows danced around like an Indian at a pow-wow. She looked me in the face grimly and sympathetically. There I sat, waiting in dread. What did she see? Lost love? An untimely death? Financial ruin? "Well," she said at last, "I'm sure glad this ain't my chart." What was that supposed to mean! Then she went on to tell me (in grave detail) my each and every character flaw, deficiency, and ugly personality disorder which I have been unknowingly smearing upon my friends, family and the general public since birth.

I became dizzy, recounting all the times I had come across to others as insulting and rude, all the while thinking I was being helpful and neighborly. Soon, her words were like the buzzing bees and I had lost all sense of where I was. I began to examine the strange room and even more unusual, the strange woman demeaning my character through a nicotine-stained smile. Then I noticed something familiar in her eyes, her nose, her chin...her Adam's Apple. The resemblance to my childhood classmate Phillip Brown was remarkable. And suddenly I realized that it was Phillip, trying his best to sound and look like a real woman! After high school, Phil must have changed his name to Phyllis, moved to Hollywood, and started life over as Phyllis Browne, Astrologer to the Stars. Ha. As much as I yearned to, I dared not mention to him that I had caught on. My grandson Jeremy told me that trying to "pass" for a woman was crucial to a transsexual's self-esteem and final transformation into a woman. It would have devastated Phil so I kept my mouth shut.

A little while later, Phyllis took my gift certificate, gave me my printout and a ballpoint pen with her name and phone number printed on the side, then tenderly escorted me to the door. I could still see a glint of pity in her eye as she waved to me from the threshold. I got on my scooter and started my trek home, thinking about how in the future I will try to choose my words more carefully when talking to a loved one, and tell more white lies instead of bluntly speaking the truth. That's what Jesus would do, I'm certain of it.

Still, while there were two women sitting around the dim dining room table that night, and even with my virtual laundry list of God-given character flaws, it wasn't me who was wearing a cheap blond wig, tacky costume jewelry and a wispy polyester house dress from the Salvation Army.

My advice: if you feel like you're in need of a peek into your future, save yourself a trip to Poe and give a jingle to Juanita Ramirez to do one of her famous toasted tortilla readings in exchange for a cup of coffee.

It being the holiday season, there was no Bingo game this week. Winner's names from next week will be listed at the bottom of my next entry. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and a Blessed New Year!

Til next time "ladies", eyes down.

"Bingo" Betty Sanchez

Sister, Can You Spare A Dime?

Hola Ladies,

Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum!

Yes, it's time again once again for our Semi-Annual Christmas-Hanukkah Festival "Fun-raiser!" Bingo Marathon and Craft Fair Benefit. The "Basura Ladies", our sister non-profit organization led by Heba Weiss, Ruthie Cohn, and Yours Truly, has raised over $326 to help charities over the past 17 years since its inception. This year, we have chosen as our "neediest in need" the Sisters Of Merciless Suffering Convent & Halfway House, located off FM 34789, at the end of Beaverdale Drive (behind the abandoned Blockbuster). Seems that the Sisters are having trouble with their possums again, and without some speedy assistance, they will lose the farm, literally!

As you are aware, the Sisters have their hands full, what with growing their own food, maintaining their aqueduct, and managing the Heathen's Halfway House for Wayward Souls. The Mother Superior, Sister Rosemary Maryrose (who is just about at wit's end), "told" us about the problems with her possum last week, using a combination of mime, sign language, and charcoal sketches (each of the Sisters at the convent has taken a vow of silence), and we are 90% certain that their farm is indeed in danger. You may recall last spring when the possums had burrowed under the Sister's bushes and snatched practically every cherry from their trees. Well this time, it's their cabbage patch that's in harm's way, and I for one can't bear the thought of a summer picnic without a 2-quart mason jar of the Sister's Pickled Cole Slaw in my twig basket. Immediate repairs are needed to the chicken-wire fence surrounding their half-acre garden. Our own Roberta Richmann, sole-proprietor of 'Odd One-Woman Jobs' and dear friend of mine, has graciously offered to provide most of the muscle to make said repairs, providing we supply her with some new chicken-wire and a couple of rugged volunteers. Do we have any takers?

So as not to step on anyone in particular secular toes, we are holding the Christmas-Hanukkah Festival "Fun-raiser!" at the Allah Are Welcome Unitarian Church on FM 567930, on the outskirts of Squirrel Hill. If you haven't been to the "church" yet, you simply must come by to appreciate its architecture alone, a marvel of arches and impossible flying buttresses which somehow hold aloft the gold-tone pyramidal roof. Lordy, it's a sight!

Festivities start on the first night of Hanukkah, promptly at sunset on December 21. Heba Weiss will open the "Fun-raiser!" with the lighting of the menorah and opening of the first 3 doors of the Christmas Advent Calendar. Yours Truly will commence the 8-day Bingo Marathon with a round of Christmas Bingo, so be sure to arrive at the facility with a $1-$10 priced unisex present, wrapped and hidden in a plain brown paper bag. And remember to holler out "Merry Christmas!" and not "Bingo!" if you win a game, or else you will forfeit your prize.

After Bingo, or when you get up to stretch your legs between games, take a gander at the Craft Fair tables, which will be in the downstairs basement/study hall/Rapture shelter. For the past 2 months, Maude Hancock has been feverishly working away in the arts and crafts room at the Pleasant Journeys Convalescent Home to create a whole new batch of her famous Pillow Dolls. Each Pillow Doll is hand-did from old nylons and pieces of her late husband Larry's shirts, God rest his soul. All of her Pillow Dolls are one-of-a-kind-unique and twenty-five cents of every doll sold will go directly to the fund. Buy a bunch for Christmas and/or Hanukkah presents for your grandkids (and pick up one for yourself as well...so precious and cozy!) Among the other gifts and crafts for sale will be Paula Picket's poker chip jewelry, Arby Cullom's real wood-burned signs, and Inez Lopez and the Needling Neighbors' crocheted bingo bags (leftover from our Bingo Bag Fundraiser of 2006--for sale at a reduced price).

In addition to Bingo, the Crafts Fair, and the Widow's League Bake Sale we will also have a Silent Auction. The Architects of Moses Men's Lodge will have on display several of the men's overstuffed baskets to bid on. Also up for auction is an authentic reproduction of an amazingly lifelike vinyl doll from Reborn-baby.com, and two front-row tickets to a musical, starring Crockett High School's drama teacher Charleton Monroe, in his one-man show of "The Women". And for all you fashionistas (aka Kiki Goldstein), my grandson Jeremy, styling genie and proud owner of the "Hello, Gorgeous! Hair Salon", is donating a full root perm and 10 French tips to the Silent Auction, so get there early and check your bid often.

Ti's the season for snowflakes and giving, and if we all pull together this season, God willing, perhaps we can give the Sisters a steaming cup of much-needed redemption. Here's wishing all my Jewish friends a Happy Hanukkah, my Christian brothers and sisters a Merry Christmas, and to all you Non-Believers, salvation from the long, dark and frosty winter nights.

Here are the names of last week's Bingo winners:

$5 prizes go to: Lucy Rains, Phyllis Rodgers
$10 prizes go to: Kitty Chesnutt, Emily Ames
$20 prizes go to: Suzy Homestead, Jesse Rudnik
And the $25 grand prize goes to, who else, Kiki Goldstein

Til next time "ladies", eyes down.

"Bingo" Betty Sanchez