Of Kevin Costner and Really Good Cookies

For those of us whose minds are stuck on permanent rewind on the scene in Dances With Wolves when Kevin Costner gets surprised by Indians while he is bathing at the watering hole, naked, and belly-crawls his way up the hill (naked) to peer through the waving grasses at them, then determines they are rifling through his possessions, so stands (naked) and indignantly yells at them ----- I have important news to share.

Who knew  that the delicious Mr. C. was also an accomplished musician and writer?  Not me.  So yesterday when I was browsing the aisles at the ITunes Store (naked) (not really), and came across his new album "Famous for Killing Each Other", I gave it a spin and, lo and behold, this guy is a lot more than just a pretty, er, face.  I wound up downloading the entire album.  This music was inspired by the Hatfields & McCoys movie soundtrack; Costner weaves Appalachian bluegrass and homespun folk with a touch of haunting Celtic lilt into a compelling, mellow showpiece.   It was a perfect choice to wrap around me on this stormy day, while the newly-planted seedlings tumbleweeds blew past my window down the golf course wide-open prairie and the chickens scratched in the dusty yard and my prissy papillon old yeller dog lay at my feet.   I baked batches of chocolate chip oatmeal and peanut butter cookies and really, really wished I had a gingham apron.

Take a step back in time and have a listen:

http://www.youtube.com/embed/kPefF85cjWY

It has been a good week, and it's about to get even better with the arrival of my Bee and Piper for a weekend visit.  Life is settling around me in proper order and my biggest concern right now is to find out whether I am allowed to have a full body lavender wrap next weekend at the spa, a generous birthday gift from Texas Toppy, known to you all as "Barney Trouble."  I have Googled "lavender and radiation" and plan on heeding their warnings not to eat any.  However, there is some kind of obscure study tying lavender oils to breast enlargement in boys (I am not kidding about this - who performed this study and how can I get some funding for my study, which involves Mediterranean cruises and recovery from radiation?), so there might be some sort of an estrogen effect.  I think I'll call my Playboy bunny oncologist and run it by her, if for no other reason to give her a chance to say in wonderment "Just when you think you've been asked everything..."

Oh, and those cookies?  I didn't (and won't) eat a single one.  Not that are baked, anyway.   Because there's no calories in the dough, everyone knows it takes a thermal process (called an oven) to make calories bloom.  These are made with the real McCoy - butter, never margarine, and they are hitting the road with my sweetheart on Monday as he heads north for the boy's annual fishing trip. Good luck, Honey - you can always use these for bait!