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A storage unit, a 1963 Volkswagen minibus, and tattered letters...reveal shattering secrets from the '60s.
It's been a year since Mary Alice lost her father -- the father she never really knew. Now she's stuck cleaning out his rubbish from a storage unit. Just when she'd rather it all go away from her well-ordered life, her long-held secret is discovered by the feisty Marina, one of the six members of the Friday Afternoon Club.When these friends make it their mission to help Mary Alice tackle her stash, they arrive at the storage unit, prepared to clean. But what they discover takes them on a riotous ride through the crime and clutter of the sixties, the angst and betrayal of those caught in The Revolution, and the forgiveness that can only come through acceptance of a different kind of Cause.
Includes fun, easy, and tantalizing recipes!
From the book
1 cup sugar9 cups cold water1 1/2 cups fresh lemon juice1 tablespoon finely grated lemon peel (yellow part only)Lemon slices and fresh mint leaves for garnish (optional)Instructions1. Combine sugar and 1 cup water in small saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a boil.2. Reduce heat and simmer about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat, and cool completely.3. Combine syrup with lemon juice, peel, and remaining water.4. Serve in a glass over ice. Garnish with a lemon slice and fresh mint, if desired.Makes 2 1/2 quarts.
EASY CROCKPOT LEMON CHICKEN
5-6 frozen, skinless chicken breasts (bone in)lemon pepper seasoning2 tablespoons melted butterInstructions1. Season chicken breasts with lemon pepper.2. Place in slow cooker. Pour melted butter over chicken.3. Cover and cook on low 8-10 hours.
I have always hated guinea pigs -- or any kind of rodent for that matter. So why I agreed to become one in my sixteen-year-old son's psychology experiment is still a mystery.
Perhaps it was the puppy dog look in Josh's chocolate brown eyes. Or maternal pride at being asked to do something that didn't involve cooking or laundry. Maybe I'm just a sucker, and he knows it.
Regardless of the reason, I, Elizabeth Harris -- grown woman and award-winning lifestyle columnist -- find myself sitting at the kitchen table with a number-two pencil clutched in each hand, poised over two blank sheets of paper.
I am supposed to simultaneously draw a circle with my right hand and a square with my left. Although I'm trying to concentrate, all I can think about is how I'd like to get my hands on the sadistic psychology teacher who thought up this inane project.
"Ready, Mom?" My freckle-faced son is standing over me -- thumb cocked to click on his stopwatch.
In a split second, I reconsider my answer. "No! Wait! My palms are sweating. Let me wipe them off."
I rise from the chair to grab the striped dishtowel hanging from the handle of the stove.
"Come on, Mom! I've got baseball practice in thirty minutes. We've gotta get this done. My project is due Monday, and my psych teacher -- "
A spark of parental ire temporarily replaces my nervousness at garnering a low score and having my lack of dexterity whispered about at PTA.
"Josh, is it my fault you waited until the last minute?" I say, leaning back on the counter and wiping my hands on the dishtowel.
Do all children wait until a project is in crisis mode before beginning, or am I one of the lucky mothers whose kids claim to work best under pressure?
"Mom, you're the one who's been telling me all week we'd do it later," my son reminds me. Rather smugly, I might add.
Another hot button. Insecurity sprinkled with maternal guilt. A teenager's perfect weapon.
Before I can fully explore the depths of culpability, the telephone rings. All sense of scholastic duty forgotten, my son snatches up the cordless phone from behind the microwave.
No wonder I couldn't find the phone when I needed to call John this morning.
"Oh yeah, she's here, Miz Favazza," he says in a low tone. "But she's kinda busy."
Busy! Josh would kill me if I told one of his friends he was busy and couldn't come to the phone. I hold out my hand. "Josh. Give me the phone."
Josh blows a hank of russet-colored hair out of his eyes and gives me the handset.
|Title:||Crime and Clutter||Publisher:||Simon & Schuster, Inc.|
|Edition:||Ebook , PDF|
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