The Bearded Iris

A Recalcitrant Wife and Mother Tells All

Page 59 of 69

Talkin’ Trash

Last Saturday my two oldest kids and I volunteered to participate in a neighborhood roadside cleanup party. I thought it would be a nice way to serve my community, spend some quality time with the kids, and get some fresh air.

We were told there would be garbage bags and orange vests. I was picturing us pretending to be a chain gang from Cool Hand Luke. This was going to be FUN!

Dear God, please don't let this be a glimpse of her future.


Just so you know, if anyone ever tells you they are bringing orange vests (plural) to an outdoor manual labor party, you should assume that they only have TWO of them. In other words, BYOV (bring your own vest) or wear brightly colored clothing just to be on the safe side. I learned this the hard way. I’m kind of trusting and/or a dumb ass like that.

Luckily I got there early and snagged the only two vests for my own children. Then another family with young kids showed up and my 11 year old future Saint, Nature Boy, offered his vest up to a 5 year old little girl. Whoever said “Chivalry is dead,” has obviously never met my Nature Boy. God, I love that kid.

My very pregnant good friend Mama Cloud and her two boys showed up too so I knew we were going to have a good time, with or without proper safety gear.

Turns out there is a reason most counties use convicted felons for this kind of work: it is really hard and extremely dangerous. We were handling all kinds of broken glass and rusty cans. We were in and out of thorny ditches that probably housed all sorts of venomous snakes and spiders. In fact come to think of it, this was the same road where I was bitten by that snapping turtle last year. Not one of my prouder moments. I’ll have to tell you that story sometime if I ever get over the PTSD.

But the most dangerous thing was the traffic. I can’t tell you how many cars went flying by us while we were out there picking up other people’s trash. Mama Cloud and I would holler and wave our arms and try to signal to the drivers to slow-the-f*ck-down, but most of them were so busy talking on their phones and/or applying makeup and/or doing the crossword puzzle and/or eating their breakfast burritos that they didn’t even notice us.

We were an inappropriately clad volunteer army of children, parents, senior citizens, and one pregnant woman. It is a miracle that nobody was hurt, or worse. The whole experience really infuriated me, actually. We don’t litter. Ever. I mean, who does that? And there we were, with our CHILDREN, picking up after assholes who just don’t give a hoot.

And we were picking up their Skoal canisters, cigarette butts, Bud Light cans, Seagram’s wine cooler bottles, and on one occasion, a used tampon applicator. Talk about trash.

That was our favorite find of the day… the used tampon applicator. Thank the Lord we were all wearing gloves. Can’t you just see someone cruising down the road, singing along with Wynona, texting her BFF, and changing her tampon at the same time? Then flinging the plastic applicator out the window along with a Mountain Dew bottle, some scratch off lotto tickets, and her kid’s empty Happy Meal bag. Yeah… her. To whom I’d just like to say: thanks lady… you provided me with lots of new conversation topics for my kids.

"Uh, Mom? What is this?"

So that was my first and (hopefully) last experience being part of an unpaid roadside chain gang. At the end of the day, we all felt really good about doing our part to Keep America Beautiful. I am really proud to live in a neighborhood where 17 people would take time out of their weekends to clean up a mess they certainly did not make. However… I can guaran-damn-tee you that I will not be taking my kids out there again, in harm’s way, to clean up after the litterbugs of the world. Just not worth the risk. We’ll have to find another way to save the earth.

You know what we need? We need more commercials like the crying Native American PSA from the 70s. Remember that one? I swear, between that guy and Woodsy the Owl, I definitely got the message as a kid that littering is just NOT okay. I guess we have bigger fish to fry these days, like fighting childhood obesity and keeping our kids off meth. But come on, guys… “give a hoot, don’t pollute. Don’t you be a dirty bird. In the city or in the woods, help keep America (bomp bomp) looking good!”

Tsk tsk,


© Copyright 2011, The Bearded Iris.

List Making Love

“The more you do, the more you can do.”

I don’t know who said that, or where I found it years ago. I only know that it is true.

I’m sure it must be related to Newton’s laws of motion. You know… bodies in motion stay in motion, and bodies at rest stay at rest, yada yada yada.

My body prefers to stay at rest. But when I do get all hopped up on the French Roast, I can get some things done… if I know what to do.

Now, if you are a hot mess like me, you probably need some kind of a list to keep you on track. “You can’t hit a target that isn’t there,” right? My problem has always been that I lose my lists. Almost daily. And my lists are so long that I always run out of steam and am just no damn good at prioritizing.

But not anymore!

I have discovered Toodledo.

About two weeks ago I finally joined the ranks of iPhone owners. And it is seriously changing my life. And not just because there is a free app that makes fart sounds.

I bought the Toodledo app for my iPhone ($2.99) so that I could have a digital To-Do list with me wherever I go. Little did I know that it would become such an important part of my life and contribute so profoundly to an increase in my daily productivity.

Many years ago, I had a crazy co-worker named Francis who was such a burnout that he would put things on his daily T0-Do list like “trim toenails” and “eat lunch.” He indiscreetly left his list laying about for all the world to see because he was afraid he would lose it and not know which bodily function to address next. Unfortunately for Francis, once I caught a peek of his list, I could never look at him the same way. My husband and I made so much fun of that poor guy. We would add similar things to our own lists like “poop” and “breathe” just to rag on him.

But now that I have Toodledo on my iPhone, I am tempted to add things like this to my own list just so I can play with the cool options, set alarms for myself, and schedule repeating reminders like “Only floss the ones you want to keep!” and “Time to drink some water!” It’s becoming an obsession.

This thing is brilliant. Seriously. It actually uses a mathematical algorithm to order your list for you as you add new tasks, telling you what you need to do next based on due date, priority, starred items, etc. It can also manage notes, so if you have an errand on your list, you can type right in what things you need at that store. No more lost or forgotten lists!

You can even wirelessly sync it with your home computer so you never have to worry about losing your To-Dos and notes if you lose or wash your phone. Because let’s face it, if you wash your phone, you have bigger problems than also having to remember what you were supposed to do that day. Uh, hypothetically speaking, of course.

And now, I can check off my Toodledo list that I wrote my Just the Tip Tuesday post for this week! Yay me! An accomplishment! I’m on FIRE today and it’s only 9:30 AM!

Could this actually be the year that I get my taxes done before midnight on April 15th? Me thinks yes. Toodledo, I love you. Promise me you’ll never leave and I promise you I’ll never download the Stool Scanner app.

The beginning of wisdom, is the desire for discipline.
– The Wisdom of Solomon.

© Copyright 2011, The Bearded Iris.

Georgia on my mind.

There are currently only three states in the good ol’ U. S. of A. that ban take-out sales of beer, wine, and liquor on Sundays. Ironically, I happen to live in one of them: Georgia. The other two are Connecticut and Indiana, but apparently there are repeal movements brewing in these states that look pretty promising. Can’t you just see the new GA license plates now? “Georgia, we’re ranked 47th in the country for SAT scores, and DEAD LAST for repealing prohibition. Yeee-haw!!”

I bring this up because apparently, via the AJC, the Sunday sales bill is dead in the water (again). Senate Republican leaders say it “lacks the support necessary among the majority caucus.”

So great. Connecticut and Indiana, you’re in the clear! We Georgians will happily assume the position of the most back-ass-ward state in the nation.

Not being from these parts, I was surprised when I moved here to learn that I couldn’t buy alcohol on Sundays. I remember once asking the manager at my local Publix if he would turn on the lights in the darkened wine aisle one Sunday afternoon so I could see which box to buy. He looked at me like I was one crazy carpet-bagger, let me tell you.

Some people think this assholiosity is a carryover from the Prohibition era in the early 20th century. But actually, Sunday alcohol sales bans in America date back all the way to the Puritans in the 17th century who created “blue laws” to regulate morality. Makes sense… I mean, they weren’t called Puritans for nothin’. Unlike the crazy kids today who “sext” each other digital pictures of their freshly shorn kibbles and bits. Or is that just my friends?

If you’re like me (God help you), you might be wondering why this is called a blue law. I thought maybe it was because not being able to get your drink on makes some people feel so blue, but that’s not it. Actually, there are a lot of different theories out there about the origin of the term “blue laws,” but most likely (according to it is derived from an 18th century usage of the word “blue” as a disparaging reference to something perceived as “rigidly moral.” For example, a “bluenose” is one who advocates a rigorous moral code. Not coincidentally, adhering to said rigorous moral codes can often lead to “blue balls” which can then, in turn, spur a “blue streak” of immoral behaviors.

So here we are, hundreds of years later, clinging to this ancient notion of trying to control morality by prohibiting alcohol sales on the Sabbath.

What a f*#king joke.

Obviously, this is a ri-donk-u-lous idea. Come on… we live in a country where Dog the Bounty Hunter is a pop icon. Does anyone really think banning take-out liquor sales on Sunday is going to make us a more moral people? And isn’t it time that these three hold-out states join the 21st century and stop trying to impose narrow religious values on entire state populations? What about all the people for whom Sunday is not the Sabbath? For some of us, Sunday is Funday.

Back in the 1700s, violating blue laws was punishable by truly horrific things like public flogging, time in the stocks, and even having body parts burned or cut off. Lovely. Definitely something to think twice about before breaking the law.

Today, however, it’s just a hassle to not be able to buy booze on a Sunday. True story, one time my mom and grandma were visiting and we had ourselves a little multi-generational PARTAY one Saturday night… ended up drinking more than we thought we would. Next day when we needed some hair of the dog, we were plumb out of hooch. Called my neighbor/BFF Tammy and she was on her last bottle too (or so she said, b!tch) and couldn’t spare us a single drop. So I had to call my 80 year old in-laws and beg them for a bottle of wine. Sent my sweet husband over to their house to snag a bottle from their ever present case of Two Buck Chuck. Talk about embarrassing. Totally made me feel like Wimpy from the Popeye cartoon: “I will gladly pay you Monday for a bottle of your happy juice today.”

So yeah, I learned the hard way that I have to stock up the other 6 days of the week. Not always the easiest thing to remember, especially given the brain cells I keep killing off with my alcohol abuse. But seriously, that is not the point. The point is that religion and government are not good bedfellows. Period. Go thump your bibles far away from my moonshine distillery, por favor.

Now listen, because this is important. All evidence to the contrary, I am not a heathen. I am a Christian woman. I love Jesus and I strive in my daily life to follow his example in all things. Fortunately for me, I happen to know for a fact that Jesus liked to get his drink on.

The Reverend Doctor Allen Dwight Callahan, Associate Professor of New Testament at Harvard Divinity School and an ordained Baptist minister, argues in the film Portrait of a Radical: The Jesus Movement that Jesus loved to party. I’m paraphrasing here, but in a nutshell, he said that if you walked into a party in Jerusalem and were looking for Jesus, you would have had to look no further than the bar.

Jesus knew that he would do the most good in the world if he hung out with the people who needed some guidance. He ran with a tough crowd. He hand-selected fishermen and tax collectors to spread the Good News. Have you ever spent any time down by the docks or with an IRS agent? Avast ye, matey. Thars some rough skallawags. So why must these Christian fundamentalists continually try to dictate how I spend my free time, and what I can purchase, and when? If Jesus could throw down with the sinners, why can’t I?

I mean, come on… Jesus’ very own mama made him turn water into wine at that wedding feast at Cana (John 2:1-11). That was his very first public miracle! Pretty important, I’d say. Love of the libation clearly runs in his family. And yet, were Mary and Jesus any less holy?

You know what I say? The family that drinks together…

… oh nevermind. I lost my train of thought. Damn fetal alcohol syndrome!

Now I’m not advocating licentiousness or drunkeness here. I’m just saying that if I want to have a drink in the privacy of my own home on a Sunday, why the hell shouldn’t I? For goodness sake, I drink wine at 9:oo AM every Sunday morning in my own church! “Take this cup and drink from it. This is my blood which will be shed for all of you. Do this in memory of me.” Hello? Jesus wasn’t sharing a Caramel Macchiato. Duh.

Interestingly, the blue laws in Georgia allow me to go out to a restaurant and drink alcohol THERE on a Sunday. I just can’t buy my usual econo-sized box o’ wine at the grocery store that day. Why the good ladies of M.A.D.D. aren’t all over this, I’ll never know. Surely it is safer and more moral for us all to reduce the chances of drunk driving by making it legal for us to buy alcohol in a store and transport it home than having us go out to a restaurant for our daily buzz and then drive home. The insanity.

So my fellow Americans, especially if you are a resident of the grand state of Georgia, contact your local senator if you are tired of living this way. Tell your elected official that you want to support local business, drive the economy, and keep the church out of your grocery store. That’s right friends, we need to fight (boom boom)… for our right (boom boom)… to par-tay. And according to one comment I read over at Creative Loafing, “It’s not over. Senator Chip Rogers, a co-sponsor of SB-10 needs to hear from you. His office number is 404-463-1378. Politely call him and ask him to do everything within his power to bring this to the floor of the State Senate for a vote.”

More at and on twitter @sundaysales .

And check out what my brilliant and witty go-to girlfriend over at Life Lessons Halfway Through has to say about this outrageous issue.

Cheers and Amen!


© Copyright 2011, The Bearded Iris

The PROCESS of Getting Organized and Changing Habits

For the past few weeks, I’ve been participating in a very exciting program called:

To participate, all I had to do was create a list of 52 organizing projects or habits that need to be done or developed around my home, and then tackle one project per week for the year. Piece of cake… creating the list, that is. I could think of 52 things that needed to change just in the room where I am sitting right now!

So I made my list and got started!

My "52 Weeks of Organizing" List

If this sounds like a cool idea to you, it’s never too late to get started. You can get a free copy of this cute list at

Thus far in the challenge, I have checked the following projects off my list:

  • linen closet
  • dining room table
  • kitchen island
  • the kids’ Legos
  • the pantry
  • the coffee table drawers

This week, I vowed I would chose a project from my list that required I spend NO money, that I could do in an hour or less, and that was IN MY FACE all the time. Having a clean drawer and pantry is all well and good, but most people can’t see those things when they come to visit. If you were to ring my doorbell right this minute and I was startled (or drunk) enough to invite you in, you would see some crazy sh*t, believe you-me. And you’d judge me immediately and would be out the door before I had the chance to say “But wait! My pantry is SO CLEAN!” Or, “I know this looks really bad, but you should see my kids’ Legos!” Or, “But I know where every single DS cartridge in this house is!

So before I get thrown in a padded cell or my kids get taken away from me while they film the next episode of Hoarders! Buried Alive!, I thought I should just suck it up and tackle one of my “hot spots.” And by hot spot, I don’t mean my swollen middle toe that has been throbbing for three days, possibly due to a flesh eating fungus. No, I mean an area of my house that is an honest-to-goodness dumping ground. There are many to choose from, actually, but I picked the one that is the most IN MY FACE: the window sill above my kitchen sink. Take a gander, my pretties:

Kitchen Sink Window Sill Dumping Ground... BEFORE.

Oh yeah. Soak it in. What a visual cornucopia of CRAP. Just in case you can’t really make out all the fascinating goodies that have been randomly dumped here over the past few months, let me just point out some of the highlights for your viewing pleasure.

EXHIBIT A: coupons, Thanksgiving turkey wishbone, one slutty Barbie shoe, an empty baggie, and a soap carving.

Perhaps we would have remembered to break the Thanksgiving wish bone if it hadn’t gotten buried behind so much other crap.

EXHIBIT B: Christmas Pez Dispensers flanking Our Lady of Guadalupe and some Beano Meltaways, plus some rocks, two buttons, a frowning Lego head, and a pen. HOLY CRAP.

“Hail Mary full of grace, please protect me from my husband’s extreme flatulence and the creepy Pez Dispensers that won’t stop staring at my boobs.”

EXHIBIT C: 8 OTC medicine cups, Carmex, a burned out lightbulb in a votive candle holder, two batteries, and my dog's antibiotics for some nasty skin infection he probably got from one of my kids.

And there was more random stuff… some jewelery (Fair Trade!), some rogue coins, a Tooth Fairy Bag. You get the point… this is a dumping ground for lots of small things. Have I mentioned that I have a dog with an eating disorder and a very mischievous 3 year old son who likes to stick things in my computer ports? Also, I’m a bit on the lazy side. There, I said it.

Anyhoooo… using the tips and tools I found on, I followed the PROCESS for organizing my space:

P – plan your attack
R – remove items from the space
O – organize stuff into piles; sort and purge
C – containerize
E – evaluate your plan
S – solve and simplify
S – smile, relax, and enjoy your hard work

Let’s break it down, shall we?

Plan – yep, got one: gonna put my sh*t away and try not to let it get like this again.

Remove items – easy. Just moved it all to the counter below the sink and to the left.

Organize/Sort/Purge – this is the step I always get stuck on. If I knew how to purge, I wouldn’t have spaces like this in my house, now would I? But enough with the excuses already. I divided all the stuff I removed from the window sill into piles: like with like.

Sorting, purging, putting things where they belong.

Then I put on some KC and the Sunshine Band and shook shook shook my booty as I ran around and put things away where they really belonged. Did I actually purge anything? Yes indeedy! I got rid of 7/8ths of those old medicine cups and the burned out light bulb. Big whoopdie-do. Everything else had real homes though.

Next step – containerize. Didn’t really need to do that here. Next!

Evaluate plan? Okay. Now here is where I had my big AHA moment. I bet I’ve been cleaning this kitchen sink window sill off every two months or so since we moved in 7 years ago. But it always seems to go back to being a dumping ground, so how could I end this cycle and keep it clean once and for all?

I needed to change my habits.

So I started doing the Org Junkie “10 minute tidy” at the end of each day, paying special attention to the window sill. I found myself policing that sucker like a new mother protecting her two day old panda cub. Every time my husband would put something there, I would be there like white on rice to say “Um, excuse me, but where does this really belong?” It was incredible. What a shift in thinking. Maintaining this little space everyday was surprisingly easy once all the clutter was gone!

Solve and simplify? Yes and yes. The simplifying was my favorite part. By removing all the clutter and putting away all the things that had real homes, I could decorate the space with the one or two things that REALLY matter to me, like my Blessed Lady of Guadalupe statue and a rock my friend gave my daughter that says “love.” I could also easily clean all the water spots off the window. Bonus!

But the solving was an important key as well. I created a “coupon bag” to hang on the fridge as a catch all for coupons that my husband and I cut out on the fly. Now there is a real home for coupons and they won’t end up on the window sill.

And finally, smile, relax, and enjoy your hard work:

Kitchen Window Sill: AFTER! Day one...

This last step, the smiling and enjoying part, is much easier to do when your hard work lasts longer than one hour. So just to show you how hard I’ve been working to keep this former “hot spot” clean, here’s the same shot, taken 8 days later:

Kitchen Window Sill Makeover, 8 days later!

And THAT, my friends, is how a lazy mama like me changes a habit in 8 short days! Let’s just compare that before and after again, shall we?

BEFORE - dumping ground!

AFTER (8 days later... still clean & clutter free!)

Well, that’s one more thing to cross of my list! Yeee-haw! Tune in next Friday to see if I can keep this motivation going and tackle my desk. I’ll also keep you posted about my progress with changing my habits and keeping the clutter at bay.

Off to do my 10 minute tidy!


© Copyright 2011, The Bearded Iris.

The Mother of all Cures

You know that scratchy feeling you get in the back of your throat when you’re just starting to come down with a cold? Yes, you know the one… that dreadful little tickle that means “Batten down the hatches! You are about to feel absolutely miserable.”

Well, last Friday night, after I had finally gotten all the kids to bed, poured a(nother) nice big fishbowl of wine, and put my feet up… I felt that tickle.

Oh no. No no no no no. Not now. I absolutely cannot get sick.

My husband had already succumbed to the grippe a few days earlier, so, statistically speaking, I knew it was my turn. Even with all the hand washing and Lysol spraying and Hazmat suit wearing, I felt like the odds were not in my favor.

But I would be damned if I wasn’t going to put up a good fight.

So I hoisted my tired tuchus off the couch and went to the kitchen to whip up my favorite home remedy for stopping a cold in its tracks…

Best home remedy for stopping a cold by The Bearded Iris


  • one cup of water (cold or hot, your call)
  • 1 Tablespoon of Bragg’s Organic raw unfiltered apple cider vinegar
  • a teaspoon (or so) of honey
  • a pinch of cayenne pepper (about 1/10th of a teaspoon)

I stirred it up and sucked it down. Then I went right to bed.

The next morning, I was right as rain. Okay, maybe acid rain on the outskirts of Three Mile Island, but still, the point is… I was NOT SICK. The scratchy throat was gone. My nose was not stuffy. My head did not hurt. Score: Iris 1, Cold 0! Booo-yah!

My poor husband did not drink my Witches Brew early enough in his little cold. He used the classic male cold remedy called “denial,” and it totally didn’t work.

As you surely know, I am not a medical doctor. But this is the second time this year I’ve used this little Witches Brew and it is the second time I’ve avoided getting sick. I’m not exactly sure why it works, I only know that it does. But the key is that you absolutely must drink it at that very first moment you suspect a cold coming on. Don’t delay.

Now, a bit of detail about the ingredients:

Bragg Organic Raw Unfiltered Apple Cider Vinegar. I usually buy mine at Whole Foods, but I’ve seen it at the local Publix too, in the organic bump out section of the oil/vinegar aisle. This ingredient is the most important in the Witches Brew. Don’t just use regular old Heinz vinegar. The Bragg ACV is special because it is raw and unfiltered. It looks cloudy and gross. There are little brown strands of floaty goo in it. Just shake it well and don’t look at it and you’ll be fine. But I suspect that the brown goo is the magic. In fact, Bragg calls that part of it the ‘Mother.’ Look:

Dang, if it is called the ‘Mother,’ you know that sh*t is good. It can probably change a diaper, balance the checkbook, and auger a clogged toilet too.

Apparently, raw apple cider vinegar has been regarded throughout history for its many healing health benefits. Even as far back as 400 BC, Hippocrates, the Father of Medicine, used it for its amazing natural cleansing , healing, and energizing health qualities. I learned about it from my crunchy friend Jennifer. She swears by it. Carries it around like the dad in My Big Fat Greek Wedding with his Windex. Don’t go to her house with a rash or a zit… you’ll walk out of there reeking of ACV.

Cayenne Pepper.  I first became enamored of cayenne pepper when I did The Master Cleanser last fall. That is a story for another day, but let me just say, cayenne pepper is an absolutely amazing health booster. It is good for your circulation, your skin, your mental clarity, and more. Seriously. Just google it, amigo. Or here, let me save you a step.

Honey. Did you know that honey is actually germicidal? It is! Like ACV, the healing properties of honey date back thousands of years. I could go on and on, but just take my word for it, or google it yourself. I have to pay some attention to my 3 year old, Bucket Head, before he sticks a fork in the toaster. Oh, one more thing, if you can get it, local raw honey is much better for you than the mass produced store brands. In fact I think raw is probably better for you with most things, except pork, chicken, and sex, but again… that is a story for another day.

Here’s to your good health!

with love and Purell,


© Copyright 2011, The Bearded Iris.

Vajazzled Valentine Vulva Candies

Nothing says Happy Valentine’s Day like a cute little heart-themed Walmart tin filled with Vajazzled Valentine Vulva Candies. This is my own special twist on the classic candy vulvas I brought to my Church Christmas Pot Luck dinner a few years ago, proving that “Yes, Vagina, there is a Santa Claus.”

"To: Nora & Jim, Happy VD! Love, Iris."

“To: Nora & Jim, Happy VD! Love, Iris.”


Made with waffle shaped pretzels, Rolo candies, and pecans, they are the perfect combo of salty and sweet. And they are as much fun to make as they are to eat. Especially when you get creative with the vajazzle supplies and effects.

A Variety of Vajazzled Valentine Vulva Candies by The Bearded Iris

Vajazzle variety is the key to fun with these tasty VD treats. My favorite look was the “inflamed pustule” achieved with a lone Red Hot placed to the side of each pecan.

The "inflamed pustule" look. Salty, sweet, and hot!

The “inflamed pustule” look. Salty, sweet, and hot!

Ouch! That makes me want a sitz bath just looking at it! Fortunately, it tastes better than it looks.

But for my more mature friends (in terms of chronological age… not behavior), “The Silver Fox” style is sure to please. Who doesn’t love coconut? Especially when it is used to simulate aging lady parts. I said SIMULATE, not stimulate.

Silver Fox Vulva Candies, for the Young at Heart.

Silver Fox Vulva Candies, for the Young at Heart.

And then there’s the Jennifer Love Hewitt Collection, because nothing says “look at my hoo-hoo” like some sparkly bling and a bit of pink frosting.

Vajazzled Valentine Vulva Candies by The Bearded Iris

I mean, are these adorable or what? Here’s how you and the kids can make your own tray of Vajazzled Valentine Vulvas to take to Grandma’s house tonight:

1.) Set oven to 250° F

2.) Lay out waffle shaped pretzels on cookie sheet.

3.) Top each one with a Rolo candy.

4.) Bake for 3 minutes.

5.) Top each with a pecan and smoosh it down.

6.) Vajazzle (if desired).

Cool completely before serving or packaging. Speaking of which, Nora and Jim, check your mailbox. Happy VD everyone!

Now candy coated with sparkles and Red Hots, your friend,


PS: For more Valentines related fun (and then some), please follow me on Pinterest.

© Copyright 2011, The Bearded Iris.

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