Friday, July 31, 2015

Funny Friday: Where's the Beef

Today’s post is July’s Funny Friday, a regular feature published on the last Friday of every month. Funny Friday is a collaborative project. Each month one of the participants submits a picture, then we all write 5 captions or thoughts inspired by that month’s picture. Links to the other bloggers’ posts are below, click on them and see what they’ve come up with. I hope we bring a smile to your face as you start your weekend.
Funny Friday | | #MyGraphics

Here’s today’s picture. It was submitted by Sanity Waiting to Happen.
Funny Friday, Sanity Waiting to Happen | | #humor #laugh
1. When you asked if I wanted to go to the market, this is NOT what I had in mind.

2. This is not how I remember seatbelts working.

3. I already told you I CANNOT give you milk. 

4. The saying is "this little piggie went to market. PIGGIE. Do I look like a piggie to you? 

5. Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas any more.
And YES, if you read my blog you know that I used this one last month too.
And now for something yummy (no, not beef):

FAST Flavorful Fish Dinner | | #recipe #fish

FAST Flavorful Fish Dinner
Click on the links below and let some other bloggers make you smile:

Baking In A Tornado signature | | #MyGraphics

FAST Flavorful Fish Dinner
Printable Recipe
NOTE: I'm from the East Coast and love fresh fish. I live in the Midwest and the best option here is flash frozen, which is why I use it in this recipe. If you're lucky enough to have access to fresh fish, adjust your temperature to 350 degrees and watch closely, it'll cook much faster.

Ingredients (per serving):
6 - 8 oz frozen fillet of white flaky fish: cod, tilapia, snapper, etc.
1/8 tsp salt
1/4 tsp lemon pepper
1/4 tsp dried dill
1 green onion
4 slices red pepper
1/2 TBSP butter
1/4 tsp paprika
3 cherry tomatoes
1 slice lemon
OPT: Serve over rice on a bed of fresh spinach

*Turn oven on to 425 degrees.
*Grease a cooking dish and place frozen fish in the dish.
*Chop the green onion and the red pepper slices.
*Sprinkle fish with salt, lemon pepper and dill. top with the green onion and red pepper.
*Break the butter up and dollop over the fish. Sprinkle with paprika.
*Put fish in the heating oven. While fish is cooking, quarter the cherry tomatoes.
*The amount of time your fish will take to cook will depend on how thick it is. Once the oven is up to temperature, start testing the fish regularly. It's ready when the fish is no longer translucent and it flakes with a fork.
*Top fish with cherry tomato and serve with lemon. 

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Storm Past. Chapter Two: Where There's Smoke

Today's post is chapter two of an ongoing fictional piece started a week ago. This Progressive Story Project started last December with A Holiday Story and was so successful we've decided to do it once again.

Progressive Story Project | | #MyGraphics
  The way it works is that participating writers each add a paragraph to the story. The idea is that everyone can contribute a piece of the story but no one person controls it.

The first chapter was written by six bloggers. You can read it here: 
Chapter One: Darkening Skies

Storm Past, a Progressive Story Project | | #story #fiction

Once again, over to the left, I've provided the name of the author of each segment and a link right to their blog. I hope you'll visit them all. They all have different personalities and writing styles, none of them ever disappoint.

Picking up the story where we left off:

Chapter Two: 

Tamara of Confessions of a part-time working mom

The morning after this nightmare Maria sat at the kitchen table sipping her coffee and waiting for her toast to pop up. She didn't feel like reading the newspaper. Instead she got up and opened the kitchen window. The sun was shining and the sky was intensely blue. The thunderstorm had left a couple of branches in her yard, and the morning air smelled fresh and clear as it always does after a good hard rain.

From afar she heard children playing and joyfully shrieking.

The world seemed to be OK.

Why did she have this dream? It felt so real. She hadn't thought about it in years and had actually hoped the incident from back then was erased from her memory for good.

After all, nobody ever suspected she had anything to do with it, she could go on with her life.

"Let's just say it was a coincidence and leave itat that" she thought. "I have a new life, a new husband and a sweet baby boy who mean the world to me."

Pop! The toaster ejected her toast slices.

Maria grabbed them and threw them on a plate.

"Holy, I almost singed my fingers. Why are those bread slices so hot today?"

Then she almost fainted. She immediately sat down. She couldn't believe her eyes.

Storm Past, a Progressive Story Project |  pic by Tamara of Confessions of a part time working mom | | #story #fiction

 Sarah of The Momisodes

Staring at the bread, Maria felt her breath escape her lungs in a rush. "How could this be possible?" she thought.

Standing, she picked up the toaster and saw nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that would cause the "J" to be imprinted on the side of the bread. Thinking she imagined it, she turned and looked at the bread again, seeing the "J" as plain as day.

"Babe? You look as white as a ghost . . . you okay?" Chase asked, concern written on his handsone face.

"Wha . . . what?" Maria replied, looking at him in a daze, confused, trying so hard to prevent the panic attack that was threatening. Swallowing the bile that rose up in her throat she painted on a smile, just for his benefit.

"I'm totally fine. I just felt a little nauseous ther for a second . . ." she said, placing a hand over her stomach just for show.

"You don't think you're . . ." Chase started to ask but was cut off by the sound of their son running into the kitchen flying his airplane and sliding on his footed pajamas.

Swooping down to pick him up, Maria met Chase's eyes over their son's head and shrugged, knowing what his question was. "Who's the most handsome guy around?" she asked her son, tipping him upside down as he trembled with giggles.

"I am, mama! I am!" Ryan said squealing as Maria tickled him on his stomach.

"This is what my life is . . . anything before this is just a ghost of a memory" she thought, willing it to be true.

 Jenniy of Climaxed

Maria tried to go about her day like everything was normal. Ryan had to be dropped off at Lake Charles for soccer camp by 8 a.m. She had to do some grocery shopping, pay a couple of bills, run by the bank to sign some forms, and take lunch to Chase. The two of them usually had a quiet lunch together in his tiny office at the law firm, both hoping one day he would make partner and have a bigger space to share at lunchtime. The lull of a regular routine was soothing to her frayed nerves, but that didn't stop the fear that invaded her dreams and her morning from creeping in on her during down moments, at random red lights, tht line at the bank, waiting in the car lane to pick Ryan up from camp . . . Every time she had a moment to herself, that ominous dread spread outward from the center of her chest, a black weight pushing fear and burning regret through every nerve in her body until even her toes tingled with it.

By the time she got the groceries and Ryan home that afternoon, Chase had already gotten back himself. He was in his usual spot in the living room. She watched him for a moment, standing in the door with a brown grocery sack resting on one hip. He was transfixed by some show or other on television. His hair ruffled, powder blue shirt rumpled, half unbuttoned, and untucked, royal blue tie loosened and draped to the side. His blazer was thrown across the back of the couch and shoes kicked off right in the middle of the floor. Normally she would be pretty pissed at the sight of it, but today all she felt was the heat of love and desire so intense she thought it would surely take her breath away. The weight she had felt screaming through her body threatening to tear at her every chance it got slipped free under the warm radiance of the tangled emotions she felt for Chase and the boy now pulling frantically on her shirt tail asking for a bit of the ice cream she bought him from Publix.

In that moment she knew that no matter what it took, she would do anything to hold onto his life and keep chase from finding out about Jeffrey. Any thing.

"There! That's settled," she sighed a deep sigh of relief reassuring herself. "Would you like an early dinner?" she shouted to Chase over the ranting of Ryan begging for ice cream.

"Whatever." Chase was so easy going. No wonder she loved him so much. Tonight she would show him just how much she loved him. Her thoughts were racing and she was getting more excited as she prepared dinner.

If they had an early dinner, she could have a leisurely bath with candles glowing, sipping her favorite Merlot while she mentally prepared herself for a passionate evening with her lover. 

Chase was such a good dad and she knew that he would be happy to help Ryan get ready for bed and read him a story. All she had to do was to whisper those magic words into his ear during dinner and he would be oh, so ready to do whatever she requested. "Tonight's your night." Those three magic words. She never knew what he would ask but it didn't matter - those words were used by each of them when they wanted to please each other in a special way.

Her nightmare was forgotten, almost. Her thoughts were on the evening ahead and then the doorbell rang. 

She had no idea who it could be and was perturbed to be interrupted. When she opened the door, she almost fainted.

Meg of Just A Little Nutty

Maria stared transfixed at the sight of her neighbor's home on fire.

The woman on her porch was yelling for help but Maria couldn't make out her words. The sight of the smoke that billowed from the home brought her to her knees and the memories she thought she had locked away flooded through her like a tsunami.

And just like that, in her mind, she was back there again:

Marlee's breaths came in jagged desperate rushes as her heart threatened to pound right out of her chest and her lungs were incinerating from within her failing body. The blood that trickled  from the superficial wound in her neck began to slow. There was no path where she was going. Her body propelled blindly in the dark of the night, a the branches ripped against her skin but terrified rage spurred her onward towards the sounds of the sea. 

~~~ Keep reading: Chapter Three: Worlds Collide ~~~

Baking In A Tornado signature | | #MyGraphics

Friday, July 24, 2015

Fly on the Wall: Someone's Following You

Welcome to a monthly Fly on the Wall group post. Today 13 bloggers are inviting you to catch a glimpse of what you’d see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes. Come on in and buzz around my house. At the end of my post you’ll find links to this month’s other participants’ posts.

Fly on the Wall | | #MyGraphics

I started telling you, months ago, about the typos I've been making. I really didn't understand why I was making so many all of a sudden. Another blogger mentioned that she's been making more too, because the letters on her keyboard have worn off. So that's her story and . . . well . . . I'm sticking to it.
Anyway, a while ago I made a new recipe for a side dish that I was promoting on social media. It was a potato casserole, one most people make a version of, but mine has a kick to it. But due to a typo, just one little wrong letter, I ended up promoting my Hot and Spicy Potato Casserole with a kick as a "Hot and Spicy Potato Casserole with a dick."

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | developed and run by | #MyGraphics

Once again we had a problem with the boys' toilet being clogged. I seriously thought that when they got older my boys would make better choices but . . . not so much. 
So apparently their toilet was clogged and rather than trying to fix it or even say anything, they just left it clogged. Apparently they think my house is a dorm and someone will eventually find it, report it and fix it.
When I finally did find it, Hubs tried to deal with it but he initially couldn't get it unclogged. I prefer that the boys not use my bathroom because . . . well, just because.
PurDude just came down to the main floor to use the bathroom. College Boy, however, thought it was a good idea to just pee into water bottles through the night and line them up on the counter in his bathroom.
I didn't agree with his choice. In fact, I very loudly didn't agree with his choice. For a very long time. 

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | developed and run by | #MyGraphics

PurDude decided not to rejoin the gym he'd been a member of for a year. He and a few friends switched over to another gym that's further away but open 24 hours. This way the boys, all of whom work different jobs and different hours, can all go work out together late at night.
One evening at dinner I asked PurDude what his plans were. He said he'd be going to the gym later that night. I let him know that we were supposed to be under a severe weather watch later that night. He assured me he'd be OK. I told him that he did risk his precious BMW getting pummeled.
Hours later PurDude comes to find me: "Mom, I'm going to the gym, mind if I borrow your car?"

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | developed and run by | #MyGraphics

I often have fun new followers on twitter, which I'm informed of in my notifications. I've talked about the time Siri, Taye Diggs and Grumpy Cat followed me. I've wondered at the time that Reynolds Wrap and Hefty followed me and I've not wondered at all when Kendall Jackson followed me. I was so excited when Ariana Huffington tweeted about a letter to my sons that had been published in the Huffington Post.
But of all of the notifications I've had one twitter, the follow I got this month had me laughing . . . and cringing:

Fly on the Wall group blog post | Someone's following you | | #humor #laugh

Yes, someone named their account "someone". And at first I thought that was so funny. Until I read it again. Now I can't stop looking over my shoulder.

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | developed and run by | #MyGraphics

PurDude's a lifeguard for the city. He often works 8 hour days and gets home long after we've eaten. On those nights he'll text me and ask me to make something for him for dinner.

He either just doesn't get the impact his frequent partial statements have on me, or it's possible he gets pleasure out of seeing how high he can get my blood pressure to soar.

For example, this exchange from last week:

5:30 pm
Text from PurDude: Can you make me some talapia for 7:30?
Me: OK. I'll have it ready.

7:00 pm
Text from PurDude: Gotta give a statement to the popo, gonna be late.

That's it. Nothing else. 

Can you feel my blood pressure rising?

Chewy Cherry Cream Cheese Cookies | | #recipe #cookies

Chewy Cherry Cream Cheese Cookies

Not that I like to torture my kids or anything, but sometimes they can really be a pain in the ass and telling them to get lost does not work. Once they know they're pushing my buttons, they're in for the long haul.
I've finally got a foolproof way to get them to stop. I found it by accident.
I dance.
It clears the room.
So now, of course, every time I see them I bust a move.
College Boy: Mom, stop. You cannot dance. You look ridiculous.
Me: I've got rhythm.
College Boy: You look like a gnome.
Me: Then I guess I better keep trying.
HA. I win!

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | developed and run by | #MyGraphics

College Boy: Will you get us a pizza for dinner?
Me (starting to dance): Want to dance with me?
College Boy: You know it would be very easy for me to have you committed.
Ummm  . . . not winning so much any more.

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | developed and run by | #MyGraphics

It's a well known fact that my kids hate quiche. In fact, it turns out they'd rather have stitches between the eyes than quiche for dinner.
Both boys had been asking me to make eggs for dinner on the nights Hubs isn't home. They like peppers, onions, mushrooms and cheese in their scrambled eggs. Sounds almost like a form of quiche to me, and it'd been quite a while since I made one.
Me: What about me making a quiche and putting in only the ingredients you like in scrambled eggs. It's basically the same thing, eggs and your favorite ingredients.
College Boy: I just can't eat anything called quiche.
Me: we'll call it Egg Pie.
College Boy: It's still quiche, no sugar coating it.
Me: Ooooh, sugar . . .
College Boy: Don't think, Mom. You know it's always trouble when you try to think.

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | developed and run by | #MyGraphics

Me: You need to buy another lifeguard bathing suit.
PurDude: Why?
Me: The netting on the one in the wash today is ripped to shreds. You don't want to have an outage at the public pool.
PurDude: I have two others, I'm going to cut the netting out of that one and wear it with my compression shorts.
Me: You have compression shorts? I don't ever remember buying you those.
PurDude: Yes, I had to buy them when I started school.
Me: Ummmm . . . I'm afraid to ask but . . . for what?
PurDude: They were required when I joined the rowing team.
Me: Rowing team? Why do I know nothing about this? You have never rowed. What do you mean you joined the rowing team?
PurDude: Well, I kinda joined it by accident.
Me: How do you join a rowing team by accident?
PurDude (walking away): Just leave it at I don't need any new lifeguard suits, OK?
Me (yelling after him): Wait. I have questions. Did you go? Do you row? You didn't accidentally sign up for anything else I need to know about, right? RIGHT?

Fly on the Wall, a multi-blogger writing challenge | developed and run by | #MyGraphics

Hubs was late for dinner. He came in and apologized saying he had to stop and have someone look at his phone on the way home.
Me: What happened?
Hubs: I dropped it at work. The back came off and the battery came out. I put it back together but I couldn't get it to work.
Me: Is it working now or do you need a new one?
Hubs: It's working.
Me: They were able to get it working?
Hubs: Yeah.
Me: Did it take long to get it fixed?
Hubs: No.
Me: What did he have to do?
Hubs: Well . . .
Me: Well?
Hubs: Well, he had to turn it on.

Now click on the links below for a peek into some other homes:

Baking In A Tornado signature | | #MyGraphics

Chewy Cherry Cream Cheese Cookies
Printable Recipe

1 stick butter, softened
1 stick margarine, softened
4 oz cream cheese, softened
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 egg
2 TBSP maraschino cherry juice
2 cups flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/3 cup chopped maraschino cherries
1/2 cup mini chocolate chips

*Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cover baking sheets with parchment paper.
*Cream the butter, margarine, cream cheese and sugars until smooth. Beat in the egg and cherry juice.
*Mix in the flour and salt. Once completely incorporated, mix in the cherries and chocolate chips.
*Drop by rounded TBSP onto baking sheets. Bake for about 15 minutes or until they just barely start to brown around the bottoms.
*NOTE: because these are cream cheese , they don't flatten, spread or brown at the top so they will be done even though they may not look it.
*Allow to set on cookie sheet for 2 minutes before removing to cool completely.

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Storm Past. Chapter One: Darkening Skies

Back in December of 2014 I decided that I wanted to write a fictional holiday story. And just for fun I thought I'd drag some friends along for the ride. I had this idea of a progressive story, each person adding a paragraph and then passing it on to the next writer. Everyone would make an impact on but no one would control the story.

Progressive Story Project | | #MyGraphics

I wasn't sure it would work. Not only did I not know if 3 or 4 bloggers would agree to gift me a story segment but even if they did, would it come together as a cohesive story? After all, everyone I know has a different style, a unique voice.

Sixteen bloggers jumped aboard. Sixteen! And the result was simply amazing, a three part holiday story of which I am exceedingly proud.

Writers and readers alike expressed interest in keeping this progressive storytelling project alive. Collectively we, the writers, decided to leave our original story as A Holiday Story and pick that one up again in December. Watch for it.

 Today we're starting a new Progressive Story Project, completely different from the previous one. Many of the same writers have joined in again as well as new friends taking on this challenge. As I did last time, I've credited the author of each segment and linked to their blogs. I hope you'll visit them all. Guaranteed you won't be sorry.

I'm honored to share chapter one of our newest collaboration, Storm Past:

Storm Past, a Progressive Story Project | | #story #fiction

Chapter One: Darkening Skies  

Karen of Baking In A Tornado

When it happened, she took it as a sign. It wasn't a conscious thought, she didn't take the time to consider it and decide it was an omen, she more felt it. In that moment.

Logically, it was just a tree falling in the woods behind her home on a stormy summer night. First with a crack, then the slow creaking of its motion, followed by the inevitable conclusion, a crash as it hit the ground.

"Ominous". That word kept going through her mind. She could not get it to stop. She literally heard it in her head, over and over again in a constant loop. If it didn't end soon she would lose her mind. Unless she already had.

 Marlee was rarely ever scared being home alone but tonight was different. She just felt scared. She felt the ominous fear long before the storm had even started. At six feet three inches tall with a lean, muscular body, she could handle nearly anything that came her way. For some reason she knew tonight would be the night her limits were tested.

She cautiously peeked out the large breakfast nook window that looked straight into the woods behind her house. She could not see much. Most of the moon's light was being blocked by storm clouds. She waited while her eyes adjusted to the darkness and then began to carefully scan her yard and the woods that bordered it.

Just when her heartbeat was beginning to slow and her muscles began to relax, she saw him. Her heart sank and an uncontrolled scream escaped from her throat. It was really happening. This was it. This really was the night her limits would be tested.

A streak of lightning lit the sky, his silhouette briefly highlighted in the sudden brightness. In the time it took her eyes to adjust from the flash, Marlee lost sight of the man. She scanned the edge of the forest again but saw and heard nothing as the clouds broke open, unleashing a torrent of rain, obscuring any sign the figure had been there.

Her mind raced in time with her heart. It couldn't be, she thought. He was dead. She had seen his body, laid out on the carpet and cold in the morgue; the man of her dreams who'd become a nightmare. Subconsciously she rubbed the scar, long and puckered where he had dragged the sharpened edge of his field knife across her throat in a final attempt to end her life.

Jeffrey. His name came unbidden, a whisper on the wind, in her ear.

 Marlee tried to calm herself. She walked toward the back door and made sure it was locked. Her eyes scanned the room for anything she could use as a weapon to protect herself. Then she felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out and glanced nervously at the screen. It was just a number and a message. She opened the message. "I am here, you are mine." She took a sharp intake of air. Jeffrey . . . it had to be.

She looked up and swore she saw someone run through the yard. Should she dial 911? Should she call Sheriff Young? As her eyes darted from the door to the window, lightning flashed, thunder crashed and she screamed. Was that thunder or was it the side window? She ran through the room and down the hall just as the power went out.

Marlee screamed as the house went dark and she heard that laugh, that evil laugh that echoed in her head from years ago.

She stumbled blindly back towards the back door her hands frantically scrabbling for the key, only to find an empty space. She remembered that the key was where it always was, on the mantle above the fireplace where she could keep a watchful eye on it through the long nights.

She leaned her head on the cold rough surface of the wood and slowly sank to the floor, sobbing as the heavy careful footsteps approached her.

"Marlee," she heard him whisper. "Marlee, Marlee, I'm here . . . "

As his hand touched her shoulder a long primal moan tore through her.

NOOOOO . . . 

His arms tightened around her body pulling her close.

"Marlee, Marlee, Maria, I'm here, it's ok . . . "

She jerked into wakefulness drenched in sweat, her skin cold and clammy, her breath shallow and jerky as she desperately tried to suck in enough oxygen to kick start her brain. Her eyes slowly focused on his face.

Gentle, concerned and so full of love.

"What is it Maria, what is it that's haunting you?"

A slight breeze from the open window fanned the curtain allowing a brilliant shaft of sunlight to stream across the room illuminating his face as his eyes searched hers for answers.

But that was another life and one that she never wanted to touch this one she shared with him.

Jeffrey wasn't the only one who had died that night, together they had killed Marlee too.

Sitting up, Maria smoothed her hair back and tried to smile at him, but it came out as a grimace.  A thousand times she had wanted to tell him that the woman he was married to wasn't who she seemed, that he had in fact married the face of true evil, but the words never came out. She couldn't stand the thought of hurting him, especially now when he looked so worried.

"It's alright honey; I just had a bad dream."

"Are you sure? You were really throwing yourself around there."

"Honestly I'm fine" she said in the most reassuring tone she could muster.

"Who is Jeffery?" He asked in a small voice.

The name sent a jolt of electricity through her spine. She struggled to speak but the words escaped her.

"You were calling his name while you were asleep" he continued.

How could she answer him? It wasn't as easy as saying "He's just the man I murdered in cold blood before I knew you. Back when the world was a different place and I was still Marlee."

Her hand instinctively went to the scar on her throat and she replied "I don't know anyone called Jeffrey."

With those words she stood up and walked to the bathroom to wash off the sweat that had drenched her in her nightmares.

~~ Keep reading. Storm Past, chapter two: Where There's Smoke ~~

Baking In A Tornado signature | | #MyGraphics

Friday, July 17, 2015

Use Your Words:The Husband Definition

Today’s post is a monthly writing challenge. If you’re new here, this is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once. All of the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the recipient will take them. Until now.

Use Your Words | | #MyGraphics

At the end of this post you’ll find links to the other blogs featuring this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they got and how they used them.
I’m using: husband ~ smelly shoes ~ broken toothpick ~ cat hair ~ coffee

They were submitted by: Spatulas on Parade.

 Dictionary of Life:
Husband (huzbend): noun
1. the spouse who breaks more things than he fixes.
2. the person in the house with smelly shoes, who drops broken toothpicks around the house like breadcrumbs, leaves whiskers the size of cat hair in his sink and does not come when called, but will be there in a second if he smells coffee.
3. the placer of wet towels upon upholstered furniture.
4. the one smart enough to use suntan lotion at the pool but burns to a crisp on the golf course.
5. the spouse who only calls after dinner is in the oven to say that they'll be late.

Peaches and Cream Monkey Bread | | #recipe #dessert

Peaches and Cream Monkey Bread

Peaches and Cream Monkey Bread | | #recipe #dessert

6. the spouse who always lets on that he's done something wrong by bringing home flowers.
7. the oblivious wearer of mismatched socks.
8. someone who cannot pay for his gas inside the store without buying something they don't need.
9. the deleter of all the computer files.
10. the person who forgets to put the trash out on trash pickup day. Every time. Even if you block their car door with the recycle bin they just step over it and go off to work.
Or is that just my house?

Links to the other Use Your Words posts:

Baking In A Tornado signature | | #MyGraphics

Peaches and Cream Monkey Bread

Printable Recipe

2 cans refrigerated crescent rolls
4 oz cream cheese, softened
1 ripe peach
3 TBSP sugar
3/4 tsp cinnamon

1/2 stick butter
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 tsp cinnamon

*Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9 X 5 loaf pan.
*Melt the butter. Mix in the brown sugar and 1 tsp cinnamon. Set aside.
*Pit and skin the peach. Chop it finely.
*Mash the cream cheese and mix in the peach.
*Mix together the sugar and 3/4 tsp cinnamon on a plate.
*Open one can of rolls, using the perforation, divide into 8 rolls. Cut each roll in half.
*Place about 1/2 tsp peach mixture into the center of each roll piece. Fold sides in and stretch each roll until the peach mixture is completely encapsulated inside. Roll into a ball. Roll each ball in the cinnamon/sugar mixture and place in the prepared loaf pan.
*Drizzle about 1/2 of the melted butter mixture over the top, then repeat with the other package of rolls, topping with the rest of the butter mixture.
*Bake for 35 minutes. Remove from oven and allow to sit for 10 minutes.
*Run a knife around the edges of the loaf pan and invert loaf onto a plate.