A thief believes everybody steals. . . . . . . . E.W. Howe

I was fully determined at the beginning of this week to plow a path to the desk in my studio --


and I do mean plow, as the floor had become completely impassable as a result of the December extravaganza that had taken place in there (starting about October 15).

But it is now Wednesday. And while I can at last take four steps into the room, after two exhausting days I'm a little tired of thinking about self improvement -- there's plenty of time for that in January, after all -- and I have decided to bake a pan of pecan pie bars in preparation for New Year's Eve instead.

And write a blog post, of course.

Important things.

My mother has her Christmas tree down and put away by noon on Christmas day. Pure fact. While I have always envied her clean and organized environment and find it to be the most restful place in the world to visit, I seem to have inherited a latent Aunt Lillie gene that precludes me from such industry.

Aunt Lillie was forced to move from her bedroom to the one next door l-o-n-g before the end of her life because of the massive amounts of important stuff (like old magazines!) that had collected there.

I have a vague memory of sitting on her lumpy bed as a younger child, but by the time I was in about 6th grade she was a fixture in the bedroom I slept in on my visits, reading trashy love stories by the light of a pin-up lamp in the twin bed across the room.

I have not been forced to vacate my studio (yet), although I must admit that I stopped cleaning up quite so thoroughly shortly after I made the decision (last spring) that I would be moving to a new studio space.

Despite a delay in that move, the idea has been firmly planted in the back of my mind for MONTHS now . . . as in, "Why bother to find a place for that? I'm just going to have to move it later. I'll just put it here on the floor until then . . . "

And now it looks like the move
may actually materialize in February!

Which is only a month away, really. And I've cleared a path to the desk. The deskTOP is another story, but with the space I cleared on the floor, there should be room to pile some of the desktop detritus down there, right?

Oh -- and I guess I need to think about taking the tree down sometime this (or next) week.


But right now, my pecan pie bars are sufficiently cooled that they need to be sliced up and removed from the pan, or else they will stick.

There's a town down the road from us that has given their summer celebration the name "The Pan-o-Prog" (which we've thought was ridiculous from the first moment we heard it. Who wants to be "Miss Pan-o-Prog?")

It stands, of course, for the "Panorama of Progress", and the town fathers who came up with the brilliant idea were obviously big on the progress concept for some reason, including eradicating all corn fields. (I'm not sure whether or not strip malls were included in their progressive vision, but they've definitely succeeded on that front as well.)

I would admittedly not be asked to ride on the float in their parade if they were to see the studio progress I have (or have not) made so far this week.

But at least at the end of today I'm going to have something delicious to show for my efforts.

Got a big To-Do List?

Try this:

(with some vanilla ice cream)

Susan's Specialty Pan-o-Procrastination
(aka Pecan Pie Bars)

3 cups flour
3/4 cup butter, softened
1/4 cup + 2 Tbsp. sugar
3/4 tsp. salt

Heat oven to 350. Grease jelly roll pan (15.5 x 10.5) Beat flour, sugar, butter and salt on medium speed until crumbly (will be dry). Press firmly in pan. Bake until light golden brown, about 20 minutes. Prepare filling:

4 eggs, slightly beaten
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups Karo
3 Tbsp. butter, melted
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla
2 1/2 cups chopped pecans

Mix all ingredients until well blended, adding pecans last. Pour over baked crust while hot, spreading evenly. Return to oven until filling is set, about 25 minutes. Cut into squares when thoroughly cool (but don't leave in pan too long -- you'll never get them out.) Store in refrigerator.




First things first,
after all.

Am I right?