Eggs Benedict Arnold.

You win some, you lose some, you completely botch some.

I was craving Eggs Benedict so I made them. Including the Hollandaise sauce…from scratch. I’ve had better. Not worse, but definitely better.

You see, what had happened was…I forgot a lemon at the store and figured oh well I have lemon powder that is dried out lemon juice. I love lemon and lemon powder might have over Super duper charged the lemon juice I made or the powder turned on me.

For this you need: Shaved Virginia Ham, free range eggs, English muffins, butter, fresh lemon juice and humility should it not turn out. I used salted butter and then added salt.  I think the two, salt and bad lemon mojo, conspired to humble me on this most aggrevating Tuesday.  The dogs liked it, but frankly they lick their own butt.


I am not posting any further recipe at this time because it did not turn out BUT I will re-post this when I have figured out where I mucked it up.


Chocolate Pudding Cake

I got a new Crockpot for Christmas and wanted to try something new.  I sound this recipe online and thought it was cheap enough to try out.  It cost me about six dollars including the vanilla ice cream.  Everyone loved it.  It is like a soft lava cake had a love child with a brownie sundae.

A gooey version of chocolate pudding cake from the slow cooker.


  • 1 package chocolate cake mix (any 2-layer size)
  • 2 cups sour cream
  • 1 pkg. instant chocolate pudding (any size) I used the whole bag because I bought the mini chips
  • 1 small bag (6 ounces) semisweet chocolate chips
  • 3/4 c. oil
  • 4 eggs
  • 1 c. water


Spray crockpot with non-stick spray. Mix all ingredients together. Cook on LOW for 6 to 8 hours Try not to lift the lid. Serve with ice cream

Christmas Eve has arrived.

Another year has gone by and to paraphrase Edina Monsoon I hit an oil slick and 35 and things have been zooming past me.  I had 2 sons, two dogs, a cat and a husband all relaying on me for food love and shelter.  Altogether not a bad gig.  I have lost a few friends; some have passed and some I had to remove like the tumor they had become.  Jolly image isn’t it?  So I sit here contemplating my life with a scotch in my hand how I can improve next year; can I be a nicer man, a more loving husband, can I lose 40 pounds in 2014. My goal is to lose 40 lbs before I turn 40.

It has been a good year for the Rawles family.  We won some, we lost some we adopted a son.

Fathers Oath

fathers oath

• I shall maintain a sense of humor about all things fatherhood, for without it, I recognize that I may end up institutionalized. Or, at the very least, completely miserable.

• I shall not judge the father in the grocery store who, upon entering, hits the candy aisle and doles out M&Ms to his screaming child. It is simply a survival mechanism.

• I shall not compete with the father who plays football, builds tree houses, or never gets angry. Fatherhood is not a competition. The only ones who lose are the ones who race the fastest.

• I shall not question the father who is wearing the same jeans, crocs and t-shirt he wore to school pickup the day before. He has good reason.

• I shall never claim to know everything about any child but my own. (Who still remain a mystery to me.)

• I shall babysit the new kids belonging to friends and family, so they may shower and nap, which is all any new father really wants.

• I shall attempt to not pass down my own father issues to my son. He deserves a father who loves and respects himself; shortcomings, confusion about sports and all.

• I shall not preach the benefits of timeout or reward charts or video game time or appropriate television or sleeping clothes or crying it out to a fellow father who has not asked my opinion. It’s none of my damn business.

• I shall try my hardest to never say never, for I just may end up with a right-winged, republican, NRA member child of my very own

• I shall remember that no father is perfect and my children will thrive because, and sometimes even in spite, of me.


I crossed two of them off, because I don’t babysit unless the child is asleep.  Dirty diapers I don’t mind.  Screeching I cannot handle. and the other one because If my children are kind and can support themselves then I was at a minimum, successful.

It’s been a long time.

The trouble with long-term separations from people is that you have the illusion of knowing them, when if fact you only know how they were, not who they are.

As some of you know I have been largely estranged from my family for a long ling time.  I think I haven’t seen some of them for probably close to 19 years; longer than I knew them in the first place.

During that time there have been life events; weddings, the birth of children, the adoption of children, illnesses, funerals, divorces and achievements that have changed the very fabric of who we are all as human beings not to mention how we view the world and interact with others.  I do not know how to interact with some people from my past while others seem to be much clearer to me.

Tonight I asked someone something that I guess you shouldn’t ask people and no, it was not their salary. Because I figured I know this person, I felt comfortable asking them.  They were offended by my question.  I apologized and said Merry Christmas.  On one hand I feel sincerely bad that I managed to offend someone two days before Christmas and on the other hand I feel like I should walk on eggshells to be some perfect glowing light person.  If I offend someone in person I usually apologize on the spot and know what the person needs; space, a treat left on their desk, a hug etc.  I don’t know what this person needs in order to know I meant no harm.

I guess what I am saying is that even though the title of a certain relationship is still there doesn’t mean that the relationship, in the deeper sense, is still intact.  Kind of like diet ice cream; you can call it whatever you want; but it isn’t really ice cream.

I feel like I have one foot in one world and one in another.  I cannot pull them together to create one world.  Logically I know this to be true, but my heart doesn’t always accept this information as fact.