My days of going to the grocery store in my PJ's are long gone. While living in the greater LA area, I wore my jammies, sweats and even the occasional boxer shorts to the market without batting an eye. I knew those who saw me would never see me again. Better yet was the fact that someone in the same location would most likely be dressed far more creatively than me. Not so anymore. Living in a small community means that I will undoubtedly run into someone I know, my husband knows or another parent from my children's school. Not that I am an overly vain woman, but it never fails that the time I jump in my car in my fuzzy slippers I will run into that PAC Mom who wants to chat about fundraising. And I for one do not want my flannels to be the topic of conversation at the next bake sale. And so, for the quick jaunt to the corner store, I fully clothe myself in the "uniform" (jeans, hoodie and when called for hat and sunglasses).
Then there is the traditional small town complaint of "everybody being in your business". I would be more than happy to rattle on about the evils of small town gossip, but I don't really have any interesting "business" for people to get in the middle of. So, we will have to leave this particular issue for someone else to ramble aimlessly about.
Now we come to my daily trip into Starbucks. Yes, we have a Starbucks here. Mind you it's the only one for about a hour in any direction, but it is ours and we are dang happy to have it. Opps, off topic again. Anyway, when I walk into Starbucks the greeting I receive is warmer than any bar fly on Cheers could have hoped for. By the time I reach the counter, my drink, non-fat Cinnamon Dolce Latte no whip, no sprinkles is ready and waiting for me. Due to my lack of pre-caffeine brain function, this is an invaluable service, to not only me, but the community at large.
Wait a minute, I am suppose to be complaining here. Oh, yeah and have I mentioned the fact that local sales people call me when items they know I like are on clearance? Or that the librarian sets aside books about "dead English people", because she knows it's all I read?
I guess my point is that, although I miss the days of make-up free trips to the post office, I am beginning to think the trade off has been more than worth it. I kind of like the fact that the gal behind the counter knows my preference for Superhero stamps.
Baked French Toast (there are just some things you shouldn't have to get out of your jammies for)
12 slices white bread, crust removed, cubed
2 8oz pkgs. cream cheese, cubed
2 c. milk
1/3 c maple syrup
1 c. frozen blue
Layer 1/2 of the bread cubes in a 9x13 casserole, followed by cream cheese cubes, and then the rest of the bread. Top with blueberries.
Beat together eggs, milk and syrup. Pour over bread and cheese layers. Chill 8 hrs or overnight. Remove from fridge 30 min. prior to baking. Cover and bake 350* (325* for glass pans) for 30 min. Uncover and bake additional 25-30 min.
In a saucepan over Med heat cook together:
1 c. sugar
2 tbs cornstarch
1 c water
1 c blueberries
1 tbs butter
Until hot and thickened. Serve on the side to be poured over each piece.