Podcasts about aunt barbara

Shop Talk this week features Tupperware Maven, Aunt Barbara. She joins us to clear up any rumors about the demise of Tupperware post-bankruptcy. Good news is you can still buy products from Aunt Barbara! And Tupperware lives! Caught My Eye looks at an article that predicts less chocolate this year for Halloween due to a cocoa shortage out of West Africa. Also, a book about Holy Land USA in Waterbury, CT brings the kitschy attraction to life 40 years later with some newfound photos. William A. Mitchell, the inventor of Tang, Pop Rocks, Cool Whip, and powdered egg whites is our Business BirthdayWe're all business. Except when we're not.Apple Podcasts: apple.co/1WwDBrCSpotify: spoti.fi/2pC19B1iHeart Radio: bit.ly/4aza5LWYouTube Music: bit.ly/43T8Y81Pandora: pdora.co/2pEfctjYouTube: bit.ly/1spAF5aAlso follow Tim and John on:Facebook: www.facebook.com/focusgroupradio

Shop Talk visits with Jennifer Bobbi, aka Aunt Barbara, and David Beck, who jointly wrote and directed a new film to be released this month called Regarding Us. You can view the trailer and get tickets to a screening near you on their website, https://www.regardingus.com. But first, Caught My Eye highlights a Charleston, WV bakery called the Rock City Cake Company. They're selling cookies decorated with “real life hate/homophobic” comments they received after sharing support for the LGBTQ+ community. Also, onigiri, a rice ball staple in Japan is trending as the snack is now being prepared by young women who use their sweaty armpits to shape the balls. Blake Ross, co-developer of Mozilla Firefox, is our Business Birthday.We're all business. Except when we're not.Apple Podcasts: apple.co/1WwDBrCSpotify: spoti.fi/2pC19B1iHeart Radio: bit.ly/4aza5LWTunein: bit.ly/1SE3NMbYouTube Music: bit.ly/43T8Y81Pandora: pdora.co/2pEfctjYouTube: bit.ly/1spAF5aAlso follow Tim and John on:Facebook: www.facebook.com/focusgroupradioTwitter: www.twitter.com/focusgroupradioInstagram: www.instagram.com/focusgroupradio

Episode 157: There are writers who can stay in their lane, and there are writers who jump from murder thrillers to space epics. The surest path to success for independent writers seems to be write and publish “predictable” books, so why can't every author stick to this tried and true formula?  We naturally use Uncle Steve, Aunt Barbara, and John Grisham as examples. Have a listen and check us out at www.carsonhume.com TIA LYL!

It's a Thanksgiving Special Family Event as our beloved menschy engineer Will makes the trek to the LAX area with all his equipment (and his two dogs!) so we can interview Jan's Mom Frima and Jan's Aunt Barbara in person on Kath's patio! It's a sizzling holiday extravaganza as the ladies wax nostalgic on what food was like in the old days. We talk about last meals, fussy eaters, fudge, food delivery and the impossibility of food ever tasting as good as it did way back when. A true honor to have these wonderful women speak to us – don't miss this one. Listen in!

Meet the woman re-imagining what Langston Hughes' home would have smelled like. Teri Johnson, Founder of Harlem Candle Company pays homage to iconic figures and spaces of the Harlem Renaissance through her luxury candles and fragrances. To do this, she and the perfumers she works with become investigators, conducting hours of research to get every note just right. And lucky for us, Harlem Candle Company has recently expanded to Harlem Perfume Company! We chat about everything from Teri's new perfume launch; her fragrance muse: her glamorous Aunt Barbara; and a recent collaboration with… The White House?! PLUS ENJOY A LTD. TIME EXCLUSIVE PERFUME ROOM DISCOUNT! FRAGS MENTIONED: 1509 Oil Matthias, Nemat Amber, Harlem Candle Company: Lenox, Speakeasy, St. Nicholas [The White House Gingerbread], Lolita Lempicka, Diptyque candles, Harlem Candle Company Josephine, Jean Patou Joy, Harlem Candle Company Langston, HCC X THE MET: Seneca, Harlem Perfume Company: Billie, Langston; Harlem Candle Company: Speakeasy and Langston reed diffusers; Harlem Perfume Company Josephine 15% OFF harlemcandlecompany.com CODE PERFUMEROOM15 (through Dec 8) SHOP PRODUCTS MENTIONED: https://shopmy.us/collections/86378 NOV SMELL CLUB: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/nov-smell-club-savory-gourmands-tickets-461855731927 FOLLOW TERI/HARLEM CANDLE CO: @terijohnsonnyc @harlemcandlecompany FOLLOW PERFUME ROOM: @perfumeroompod (IG) @emma_vern (TT)

Live your life and forget your age ...because after yesterday my first inclination would be to make this headline, “Damn, you got old!”     Yesterday Mom married Fred Lively in a casual wedding / potluck at Florida College Academy.  She'd asked me if I'd do the flowers for her wedding, so I'd been stockpiling cases of them from my overseas vendors.  Her original intention was to be married in Fred's backyard on Lake Keystone because that's where he proposed and he's known for throwing church and family parties there for years.  I'd been buying flowers with the intent of draping their wooden swing and all the trees with long vines of pinks, creams, purples and a soft glowing orange.  Rain changed that.   Turned out to be a great decision to use the FCA lunch room as there were plenty of tables and chairs inside.  Chuck, MJ (Emily's boyfriend) and I turned the bleachers around backwards so we could use the safety rails on their back to drape the flowers.  Everyone pitched in and covered them and the tables with flowers.  There were 125 of their family and friends at the event and they were wed at 11:00 am.  Lunch followed and everyone was gone by 2:30.   What struck me most was how old everyone looked.  I'd just seen all these people two years ago when Dad died, but I must not have really seen them.  I'm sure they all looked at me and thought the same thing, but all anyone could talk about was my hair.  It really is amazing hair.  It's down to about my waist now, and so full and glossy and blonde.  I die it, but only because my roots are brown.  I'd love to cut it all off and come in w/ grey, if it would just turn grey.  Seeing cousin Scott, who was born the same day as me, was the most startling.  He looks sooooo old.  I didn't even know who Jackie Ellen was until I realized she was with Aunt Barbara (who didn't look any older...oddly.)   There was lots of loving, hugging and happy chatter and my job was to capture it in every way I could.  Jamie's job was to get still photos because no one can capture the essence of a person or a moment like she can.  I did Facebook LIVE to my own page, 360 footage with the GoPro Fusion, and  filmed w/ my iPhone X.  I worked on the wedding video until 8PM and posted it to YouTube and Facebook.   I'll do a 360 version today.   Hi, I'm Carole Baskin and I've been writing my story since I was able to write, but when the media goes to share it, they only choose the parts that fit their idea of what will generate views.  These are my views and opinions. If I'm going to share my story, it should be the whole story.  The titles are the dates things happened. If you have any interest in who I really am please start at the beginning of this playlist: http://savethecats.org/   I know there will be people who take things out of context and try to use them to validate their own misconception, but you have access to the whole story.  My hope is that others will recognize themselves in my words and have the strength to do what is right for themselves and our shared planet.     You can help feed the cats at no cost to you using Amazon Smile! Visit BigCatRescue.org/Amazon-smile   You can see photos, videos and more, updated daily at BigCatRescue.org   Check out our main channel at YouTube.com/BigCatRescue   Music (if any) from Epidemic Sound (http://www.epidemicsound.com) This video is for entertainment purposes only and is my opinion.  Closing graphic with permission from https://youtu.be/F_AtgWMfwrk

March Madness is in full swing (Go St. Peter's!) and The Colvin Brothers feature tunes from Green Day, Dave Matthews, The Pixies and of course MADNESS but with a twist as a blood disorder has left Madd Milk hospitalized. Lewis Chiu says "The Sho Must Go On!" so we broadcast LIVE from Mikey's hospital room as a public service to everyone else who's been told their specialist isn't taking on new patients. We play Real Hospital Food or Fake Hospital Food, run down your favorite NCAA Hoop Squads and Aunt Barbara offers her opinions on Putin. The Colvin Brothers Show airs Sundays at 6pm on z93hv.com and is sponsored by Mahoney's Irish Pub & Steakhouse, 35 Main St, Poughkeepsie (845) 471-7026. Stop in for a pint today! --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/colvin-brothers-on-z93/support

This could be a record…2 cereals that make us gag! Yay! First a mediocre new cereal From Kellogg’s in partnership with Crayola -- Jazzberry…we’ll leave that there. Then, on to another awful cereal from Andrew’s Aunt Barbara. After that…we’ll take a trip to Korea for perhaps the worst cereal of all time!

We loved talking to legend Holly Robinson Peete about The Christmas Doctor, the excitement over the upcoming Christmas in Evergreen (what is in store for Mayor Michelle?) and the beautiful traditions she has with her family. Plus, Holly shares a memory of an epic Christmas gift from her mom and real talk with her Aunt Barbara.Follow Holly Robinson Peete:Instagram/Twitter: @hollyrpeetewww.hollyrod.org/donateFollow Hallmark Channels' Bubbly SeshInstagram/Twitter: @thebubblyseshHallmarkChannel.com/TheBubblySesh

I hope everyone out there is safe and sound. Today at 2pm ET, my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Stan, who were on both episodes 37 and 63, join us once more to discuss how they are holding up through this pandemic and anything in their respective lives growing up in Brooklyn they can relate to all this. So, join us LIVE at 2pm ET for the latest edition of the Bedford & Sullivan podcast!

Episode 63 The Parable of the Growing Seeds (Parable 10), Mark 4:26-29Have you heard the English saying, “Man proposed, but God disposes”? It deals with the mystery that probably most of us struggle with from time to time: what in life can people actually make happen, and what are the limits that people face, beyond which only God or the supernatural can do? In this short tale, Jesus tells of a farmer who planted some seeds in the dirt, and even though he did not understand how, the seeds grew on their own and eventually produced a crop. This story deals with hard work, rest, trust, and patience.Word of the Day: dispose (v.) to make willing or open to something.Aunt Barbara is more disposed to read than to watch TV. Question of the Day: Is there anything in life that you would like to do or see accomplished, but you believe it is humanly impossible? How might this parable relate to your situation? Have a question or feedback? Maybe a topic you’d like to hear in a future episode? Please email Scott at lifeapppodcast@gmail.com. We’d love to hear from you! If you enjoy our podcasts, please subscribe, write a review, and share them on social media and by word of mouth! Those are GREAT ways to help more people find our podcasts. Please also visit us at www.DreyerCoaching.com; check out the blog posts at the bottom of the page for more information about life in the USA and the crazy English language.Stay connected!https://www.facebook.com/DreyerCoaching/http://dreyercoaching.com/en/wechathttp://dreyercoaching.com/en/linehttps://www.linkedin.com/in/scottdreyer/

How to Collect the US Account of a Deceased Foreigner We help a LOT of non-US heir collect their US inheritance. So, for example Aunt Barbara was a UK citizen, and lived/died in Spain But she had a few US bank and brokerage accounts >$200k How do Barbara’s nieces and nephews legally get their US inheritance? In this high-level summary, we'll describe: Step 1: Go to local probate court Step 2: Go to US probate court Step 3: Get US tax clearance And lastly, I’ll describe a few of the seemingly simply tasks that can cause surprisingly long delays ========== READ Pick up my books on Amazon. Reviews always appreciated! ========== JOIN Sign up to my email list for book announcements ========== WATCH Subscribe to my YouTube channel ========== LISTEN Subscribe to the “Simple Money Wins” podcast at: iTunes: https://apple.co/2XvtoVz Google Play: http://bit.ly/2XRWDRK Stitcher: http://bit.ly/2Xuct5A Spotify: https://spoti.fi/2XMDYa3 iHeartRadio: https://ihr.fm/2JwhDnV ==========

Lindsay’s back and after Heather’s busy weekend, there’s plenty to cover! The two grapple with being the guilt of being “stay-at-work” moms, especially during the holidays that are most important to their kids. Could that be solved by wavering on their strict no-pet policy? Next, Heather has a bone to pick with Terry’s less-than-chivalrous tendencies and she and Lindsay fantasize about one day having a “Forward Team” like celebrity power-duo Tom and Gisele. Also check out the exclusive new footage of the podcast and more on YouTube! Have any questions for Heather? Use the Heather Hotline and call or text 949-439-5159 anytime, anywhere! And thank you to today's sponsors: Amazon = Shop using Amazon.com/shop/HeatherDubrow to keep the podcast FREE! The Dubrow Diet = Heather & Terry's book is available today—order your copy now at Amazon.com or wherever books are sold! Truman's = To recieve 50% off your Truman's Starter Kit plus subscription, visit trumans.com and enter promo code HEATHER at checkout. CBD MD = To make discovering the full potential of CBD even more accessible, CBD MD is offering all of Heather's listeners 20% off when you use the code HEATHER at checkout. House of Kim = Check out HOUSE OF KIM every week on Apple Podcasts and PodcastOne!

Barbara in the Frame by Emmalia Harrington       Bab’s stomach growled for the third time in five minutes. “You were right,” she said, pushing away from her desk, “It’s time for a break.” Summer classes meant papers and tests smashed close together. There was hardly time to get enough sleep, let alone shop on a regular basis. The only food in her dorm room was an orange. Bab picked it up and walked to her dresser, where the portrait of Barbara, her grandfather’s great-aunt, sat.   Full story after the cut.     Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip Episode 71 for April 15, 2019! This is your host, Keffy, and I'm super excited to be sharing this story with you. Our story for today is "Barbara in the Frame" by Emmalia Harrington read by Before we get started, a reminder that there's still a Tiptree Honor Book sale going on for the GlitterShip Year One and Year Two anthologies on gumroad! Just go to gumroad.com/keffy and use the coupon code “tiptree,” that’s t-i-p-t-r-e-e to get the ebooks for $5 each. Emmalia Harrington is a nonfiction writer, librarian and student with a deep love of speculative fiction. She hopes to have many more publications under her belt. In the meantime she continues to plug away at her novel and short stories. Her work has previously appeared in Cast of Wonders, FIYAH and is upcoming in other venues. She is a member of Broad Universe and volunteers with the Speculative Literature Foundation. Khaalidah Muhammad-Ali is a writer, editor and narrator. Her publications include Apex Magazine, Strange Horizons, Fiyah Magazine and others. Her fiction has been featured in The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year: Volume 12 edited by Jonathan Strahan and The Best Science Fiction of the Year: Volume Three edited by Neil Clarke. You can hear her narrations at any of the four Escape Artists podcasts, Far Fetched Fables, and Strange Horizons. She can be found online at http://khaalidah.com.   Barbara in the Frame by Emmalia Harrington       Bab’s stomach growled for the third time in five minutes. “You were right,” she said, pushing away from her desk, “It’s time for a break.” Summer classes meant papers and tests smashed close together. There was hardly time to get enough sleep, let alone shop on a regular basis. The only food in her dorm room was an orange. Bab picked it up and walked to her dresser, where the portrait of Barbara, her grandfather’s great-aunt, sat. She put a segment in her mouth and gagged. “Sorry,” she said, spitting the fruit into her hand. Bab forced it down on the fifth attempt. Aunt Barbara’s portrait frowned and glanced at the bookcase. The clothbound spine of Auntie’s handwritten cookbook stood out among the glossy college texts. “You know it’s too early for the kitchen,” Bab kept her eyes on the shelves and away from her aunt. “Those girls will be there.” Even looking away, Auntie’s disappointment made her wilt. Bab retreated to her desk to choke down the rest of her fruit. “I’m safer here,” she said as she wiped her hands. “It’s just you, me and a locked door.” She closed her eyes, imagining what diet could sustain her until the cafeteria opened for the autumn. Carrots lasted days without refrigeration, and if she soaked oatmeal overnight, it would be soft enough for breakfast. Auntie’s book said food was more potent when shared. It had nothing like the recipes the other girls loved to make for their Soul Food Sundays. Placing succotash next to their cheese grits and fried okra was little better than exposing her whole self. “Remember when I came home from the hospital?” Bab asked, turning back to her aunt. “I was so skinny Dad and Papa wouldn’t let me see you.” She gave a thin smile. “They thought seeing me would crack your frame.” Her throat shrank at the memories. The bureaucracy at her old college insisted on using the name and gender on her birth certificate and stuck her in the boys’ dorms. Her roommates alternated between hitting on her and punching inches from her head when she rebuffed them. One loved spiking her food with hot sauce and worse. After a few weeks she couldn’t sip water without panicking; a full meal was impossible.  “None of that will happen here.” Bab cracked her knuckles and tried to type as memories of the last year washed over her. This women’s college’s administration accepted Bab for who she was, name and all. She still felt safer keeping to herself. That midnight, she entered the kitchen with cookies on her mind. She pulled out her baking sheet and spices before she came to her senses. Food never worked right in an unconsecrated space. After several deep breaths, she was scrubbing the counter and attempting to meditate. Incense was not allowed on campus, but would have done wonders to erase the pork and garlic scent left over from the soul food dinner. Even when her dormmates weren’t there, they were reminding her how she wasn’t. Curvy figures to her still-underweight frame. Cornrows and other cute hairstyles while hers couldn’t grow longer than peach fuzz without breaking combs. Bab bit her tongue. A clear mind was the best way to perform a ritual. A pristine table and stovetop later, she was assembling Auntie’s happiness cookies. Rice flour provided security and cloves purified the mind and heart. Cinnamon brought comfort and strengthened the power of the other ingredients. Mix with water to create a dough, pop them in the oven for fifteen minutes and suffer from anticipation. Tidying right away added power to the food and gave them time to cool, even if the aroma of fresh cookies filled her mouth with drool. Back in her room, there were things she needed to do before eating. She paid homage to Aunt Barbara, placing the nicest smelling piece by her picture frame. Next was covering her desk in a clean towel in lieu of a tablecloth and folding a pretty bandanna into a napkin. A duct tape flower decorated the space. After a prayer of thanks, she took her first bite. At first, it tasted like a cracker in need of dip. As she chewed, spices spread through her mouth and into her nose. Tension fell from her shoulders and neck. The more she ate, the more her cookie took on an extra flavor she couldn’t describe. The closest she could get was “a hug from the whole family.” When she checked on her aunt, Barbara’s cookie was gone, crumbs and all.   College was a never-ending battle between sleeping in and being on time for class. Bab had just enough time to pull on jeans and run to the Humanities Building, cursing herself with every step. Life was hard enough as is, she shouldn’t make it worse by writing papers after 2am. By pinching the back of her hand, she stayed awake all through the lesson. The effect faded as she headed to the bathroom, where she fought not to drift off on the toilet. She was washing up when a familiar voice went “I said ‘Hey!’” It was Jen, dormmate and Political Science/Africana Studies major, standing between her and the exit. Bab stretched her lips into a smile. “Not working today?” Jen laughed and shook her head. The beads tipping her braids tinkled as she moved. Bab wished she had a scarf to hide her own hair. “My internship with the Congresswoman is this afternoon. I’m between classes now.” “I wouldn’t want to keep you,” Bab hoped the other girl didn’t notice the wobble in her voice. “There’s time yet.” Jen headed for the water closets and paused. “You’re the reason the kitchen smelled so good this morning?” Bab forgot how to breathe. Nodding had to do. “Will you come next Sunday? The three of us can’t make dessert to save ourselves.” Without waiting for an answer, Jen entered a stall. The sliding lock sounded like a guillotine blade. It was all Bab could do to run to her next seminar. Terror percolated inside her, tightening her throat until she couldn’t get a lungful. The Number Systems for School Teachers lecture passed in a haze of greying vision. At her next course, the professor took one look at her and ordered her to rest. Back in her room, Bab spent an endless time curled on her bed, fighting for air. Clattering from the dresser pulled Bab out of herself enough to check the noise’s source. Auntie’s picture had fallen. “Thanks,” she returned to the bed, hugging the portrait like a teddy bear. Her heart bumping against the frame’s glass made a double beat, Auntie’s pulse moving in time with hers. Bab’s airway relaxed, and her head cleared enough to grab last night’s cookies. “What should I do?” she said after filling Auntie in on the bathroom encounter. “Dad and Papa couldn’t teach me black girl stuff. Jen and her friends have way more practice than me.” She took a bite. “If I change my mind, they’ll know something’s up, but if they get to know me, they’ll be just like my boy roommates and…” Aunt Barbara was pursing her lips. “You haven’t heard Jen, Maria and Tanya speak. Their majors are going to help them ‘change the world.’” Bab stuck her chest out, superhero style. Auntie raised her eyebrows. “I know becoming a teacher’s important,” she sighed. “But tell that to people outside my department. Anyway, that’s not the main reason they’ll hate me.” She glanced at Auntie’s cookbook. “On Sundays the kitchen smells like those TV shows with sassy mothers who teach girls how to cook the ‘real way.’” She made finger quotes. “Nothing like what we eat at home. They’ll take one look at my food and treat me like my old roommates.” Her stomach twisted. “I don’t want to go to the hospital again.” Finishing the cookie kept the worst throat swelling away. She still felt like barricading herself until graduation. Light glinted from the portrait. When Bab took a closer look, Auntie met her eyes. Aunt Barbara resembled a professor, stern but caring. If photos could speak, Bab would be getting a speech on conquering fear. The eye lecture finished with Auntie glancing in the direction of her book. Bab crossed the room, picked it up, and flipped through the dessert section. She doubted grapenut pudding would go over well. Apple-cheddar pie might work, but she wasn’t masochistic enough to make crust from scratch. Hermits seemed easy enough, but the next recipe stopped her cold. Froggers. Above the recipe, Aunt Barbara had written a few notes about Lucretia Brown, the inventor. Bab read and reread the page before saying “They might like it.”   Summer lessons meant more homework and less time. Bab spent her free days camped in the library, reading hundreds of pages worth of assignments before trudging back to her room to bang out papers. She peeked from her window before going outside. Maria, a Soul Food Sunday girl, wasn’t out running laps. Bab headed to the library, wiping sweat off her palms every couple of steps. If the Pre-Law/Economics student wasn’t marathoning, she was on work-study. Bab needed to find a secluded corner to avoid detection. Maria was nowhere near the front desk when Bab checked out her classes’ reserve texts. She walked the opposite way from the book return cart, in case the girl was shelving. Bab spent the next two hours in the clear until it came time to make copies. The other girl was bent over loading paper into the machine, looking more voluptuous than Bab could hope to be. Bab closed her eyes, praying to avoid a repeat of yesterday. “Hey.” Maybe starting the conversation would help. The other girl yelped, whirling around and overbalancing. Bab rushed to steady her, half-wondering if she landed in a romantic comedy. Maria’s face flushed redder than her shirt. “I didn’t see you.” It was Bab’s turn to freeze. She studied the wall behind the other girl’s head as she tried to form words. “Oh! You’re coming Sunday,” Maria sounded relieved. “We can talk then.” She stepped away from Bab and hurried to the front desk. Two hours and five textbooks later, Bab emerged from the library, dazed. Motor memory led her to the campus coffee shop, where she ordered a red eye. She needed the caffeine to unfry her brain and conduct decent extracurricular research. Maria was nowhere to be found when Bab walked to the reference librarian’s desk. There wasn’t too much on Lucretia Brown, but what existed came from places like the Smithsonian. The state historical society had a series of frogger recipes as well as official documents on Brown’s business. Bab’s coffee went cold as she pored over the papers.   “What do you think, Auntie?” Bab asked that night. “Those three might hate them because they have ‘frog’ in the name.” Aunt Barbara didn’t react. Bab twisted her hands and continued. “I found a zillion ways to make froggers. Some I don’t have to buy a ton of new ingredients for. One is similar to your happiness cookies and isn’t very sweet. They’ll think I was lying about making dessert. Another’s fried, not baked. Those three…” She drifted off as Auntie wrinkled her nose. “What do you think I should do?” Bab said, hoping Auntie wouldn’t give the obvious answer. She gave Bab a hard stare. “I can’t do that,” Bab said, backing away. “I’m safer not making friends.” She bumped into her bed. Auntie looked miserable. Bab stroked the picture frame before returning to fretting. Silently this time. Every recipe called for allspice, which promoted luck, success and health. It was also quite masculine. Bab wasn’t keen on infusing virility in herself or the others. Liquor united the feminine elements of water and earth, but she was too young to buy the rum froggers required. Bab prayed rum extract with its high alcohol content was an acceptable substitute. Auntie’s book had nothing to say about the power of molasses. Maybe it took after its sister sugar in terms of protection and enhancement. It could also be a soul food ingredient, though Bab was too afraid to check.   Spices were never cheap. Bab spent the next few days outside of class in the city. Ethnic enclaves had spices at better cost than supermarkets, and she was going to find the best prices. She always went on foot to channel bus fare into grocery cash. Her feet swelled until she could barely pull her shoes off at night, but she got all the seasonings she needed, plus extra rice flour. By Saturday afternoon, Bab recovered enough to limp to the market nearest to the dorms. Butter was easy enough to find, but molasses and extract remained elusive, no matter how many times she wandered Aisle 5. Between her focus on the shelves and her still complaining legs, she didn’t notice company until she bumped into them. Bab’s heart froze when she realized who she crashed into. Tanya was Jen and Maria’s buddy, a Business/Chemistry major and heir to a cosmetics firm that made products for black women. She might have been in jeans and ponytail, but her skin glowed and her hair smelled of jasmine and coconut oil. “I’m sorry!” Bab couldn’t apologize fast enough. “I should have seen you-” Tanya waved her hand. “I ran into you. Let me make up for it.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of papers. “Have a coupon.” Bab reached for the offering, doing her best not to brush Tanya’s fingers. She didn’t want to piss the girl off by mistake. There were discounts on powdered soup, meal replacement shakes, frozen dinners… “Mind if I have this one?” Bab held up a voucher for oranges. Tanya shrugged. “It’s not like I’ll get scurvy.” Bab’s grin felt foreign on her mouth. “They’re also great for clearing the mind and cheering you up.” The other girl raised an eyebrow, something Bab had yet to master. “Isn’t that what chocolate’s for?” Bab’s cheeks burned, but before she could answer, Tanya said, “Maybe I’ll get some chocolate peanut butter this week. They taste good with strawberry Caffeine Bombs.” She waved goodbye. Bab couldn’t decide whether to stare at her, or her basket of white bread and neon drinks. She resumed her search for the remaining ingredients, trying to imagine what Auntie would think of Tanya’s cuisine. There could be rage, terror, or horrific rage. “Victory!” Bab announced later in her room. “Now I have everything for froggers.” She picked up the portrait. “Will it be all right?” Auntie beamed. “Of course you think that, we’re family. I don’t have that advantage for tomorrow.” Aunt Barbara looked Bab up and down before raising her chin. Bab crossed her arms over her bust. “They’re prettier than I am, and I don’t think a padded bra would help.” Auntie’s eye narrowed. “What’s worth knowing about me?” Her voice wobbled. Auntie glanced at the mirror. Bab stood in front of it for ages, trying to see what Aunt Barbara did. It never appeared. Whenever she turned away, Auntie nodded for Bab to return. Her throat ached from not shrieking her frustration. Her reflection continued to show someone who did not have the looks, goals or background as the other black girls in the dorm. She had bits and pieces of other kin in her appearance, like Papa’s forehead, Grandfather’s nose, and Auntie’s love of frilly blouses. Bab straightened her back and assumed the formal pose of Auntie’s portrait. She still couldn’t find what Auntie saw, but her urge to scream faded. Maybe one of these years she’d be as awesome as Auntie believed.   If Bab was going to bake undisturbed, she was better off starting at midnight. The cookies wouldn’t be the freshest, but she half-remembered one recipe saying froggers grew tastier with time. Or she could scrub the kitchen for so long, Monday would roll by before she finished. Giving the counter, sink and other surfaces the once-over wasn’t going to be enough if she wanted to win the trio’s favor. Bab scoured until her arms ached, shook them out, and started again. She filled her head with prayers for the cookies’ success and her continued safety. Whenever her mind wandered, she bit hard on her tongue. Now that she thought about it, froggers might taste better if she rewashed the baking sheet. As she worried it with a sponge, she caught a glimpse of herself on the aluminum. She was nothing more than a blobby outline, but it was enough to remember the afternoon. Auntie thought she was worth something and Bab needed to act the part. She preheated the oven and pulled out the measuring cup. Auntie’s recipe didn’t specify rice flour, but she could do with its protection. The spices that went into happiness cookies went into the mixing bowl, along with lucky nutmeg and ginger’s love. Macho allspice went in after all, to impart success. Wet ingredients went into another bowl, before she combined everything to make a sticky dough. Nothing a bit of flour couldn’t fix. She rolled everything out with the side of an empty glass, used the mouth of the same cup to cut out froggers and stuck them in the oven. Baking and cooling times stretched until every second felt like forever. Despite her best efforts, no amount of tidying would speed things. Sweat oozed from her face and armpits. As soon as she could move the cookies without burning herself, Bab fled to her room. “I did it!” She hitched her shoulders in lieu of a fist pump. Dropping the froggers now would mean baking them later in front of an audience. Once they were safely on her desk, she fell to her knees. “I thought of you as much as I could and how you want me to be.” On the floor, she couldn’t meet Auntie’s face. “I’m still not there, sorry.” Even through her jeans, the tiled floor felt so cool, but passing out here would mean a stiff back in the morning. “Just a minute.” It took a few tries to lurch off the floor and back on her feet. Bab placed a frogger by Auntie’s picture. “What do you think?” Between one blink and the next, the cookie vanished. Auntie’s smile threatened to push her cheeks off.   It was ten when Bab woke up, and eleven before she rolled out of bed. She only had a few hours, and laundry wouldn’t do itself. Typical for Sunday, all the machines were full, but one just had a few minutes left to run. She buried herself in a textbook, wondering if she could drop out of dinner, saying she had a test tomorrow. Auntie would be disappointed in her. The afternoon vanished in a flurry of chores, grooming and actual homework reading. Bab shaved, brushed her hair until her arm ached, and smoothed out the wrinkles in one of her nicer shirts. Whenever her throat threatened to swell, she turned back to studying. An hour before the event, Bab’s heart thrummed in her ears. She had one last thing to do before she was ready, but it meant going to the kitchen, possibly in front of everyone. The room was filled with cell phone music and off-key singing. Tanya and Maria’s backs were to Bab as they chopped away. Jen hadn’t arrived. Bab was free to cover the table with a freshly washed sheet, though she ached to clap her hands over her ears. The file quality, song genre and the girls’ lack of skill made it Vogon poetry in human mouths. She placed her duct tape flower in the center of the table before retreating to gather the froggers. When she returned, the pair was belting out what might have been “Baby Come to Me.” Bab prayed “4:33” was next on the playlist as she arranged cookies on her largest plate. She couldn’t do anything more artful than a pyramid of concentric circles, but it looked good enough for a magazine. A shriek stole the last of her hearing. “Bab, when did you get here?” Bab turned to Tanya, rubbing her ears. “I didn’t want to interrupt.” Tanya laughed. “It’s either sing or put up with Maria’s preaching.” “Soul food _isn’t_ vegan,” the third girl hissed. “Aren’t you making peas and carrots?” Tanya said. “Doesn’t count, I use butter,” Maria said. “See what I mean?” Tanya said to Bab with a hammy sigh. Bab’s smile shook around the edges. “Why not vegan?” “Thank you!” Tanya abandoned her cutting board to crush Bab in a hug. “You understand.” “Does that mean no cookies tonight?” Bab winced at her lack of subtlety. “They have dairy.” “Of course cookies,” Tanya stepped back, giving her a hard look. “Cookies need butter, chicken need salt, and collard greens are better with orange juice instead of pork.” “Blasphemy,” called a new voice from the doorway. Jen walked in, arms full of cans and equipment. “Smoked pork is food of the gods.” As the trio rambled amongst themselves, tension fell from Bab’s shoulders. She set the table, making sure everything was picture perfect while the others worked by the stove and countertops. Aside from the odd comment thrown in her direction, they left her alone until their food was ready. “What did you do?” Jen breathed as she took in Bab’s handiwork. “It looks like a real Sunday dinner now.” “Ahem,” Tanya said, looking in the direction of the garbage bin. An empty tube of biscuit dough and gravy can sat on top of the trash. “I was busy--” Jen started, but Maria cut her off. “I forgot salt, gravy will help the peas and carrots.” She plopped her dish next to the duct tape flower. “Let’s start?” No one commented on Bab sitting in the spot closest to the door. They were too busy saying things that threatened to stop her heart. “How’s the food? Maria used fresh carrots this time.” Tanya wiggled her eyebrows. Maria, Bab’s bench partner, turned the color of rust. The taste was on par with cafeteria food. Bab liked safety too much to say it aloud. “You’re right, it does go well with gravy.” Maria stared at her plate as more blood rushed to her face. “You know what would be great? Bacon.” Jen said. “Everything it touches turns to magic.” Bab opened her mouth, closed it and lowered her head so no one could see her face. Auntie’s cookbook never limited power to a single ingredient. The other girls were too busy arguing which brand of cured meat was best to notice Bab. It wasn’t long before the serving plates emptied. With competition out of the way, the froggers perfumed the table and made full stomachs grumble. “Are these the cookies you made last week?” Jen asked. Bab shook her head. “It’s a diff--” the trio snatched froggers for themselves and went to work reducing them to crumbs. Jen’s first bite took out a third of her cookie. Her eyes widened. Tanya chewed slowly, lost in thought. Maria closed her eyes and clasped her hands like a church lady. “What did you say these were?” “They’re molasses cookies.” Bab coughed, but her throat kept tingling. “Froggers.” “Made with real frogs?” Tanya said, her mouth wry. Bab took a deep breath and wished her lungs were bigger. “A woman named Lucretia Brown invented them.” All eyes were on her, none of them hateful. She looked at Tanya. “Lucretia was a black woman who ran an inn and made perfume and other things to sell.” To Jen and Maria she added “She was born in 1772 Massachusetts and owned property.” No one spoke. They were too busy considering their froggers. Bab took one for herself and bit in deep. Spices spread through her mouth and seeped into her being. Her throat relaxed enough to ask “Maria, mind if I jog with you tomorrow?” before she realized it. A second mouthful of cookie kept panic at bay. Maria’s ears darkened, but she said “I’d like that. Front door at eight A.M.? Wear good shoes.” Bab took a second frogger, but when she reached for a third, all she found was an empty plate. Hearing the trio tease each other as they helped with cleanup almost made up for it. The lack of singing certainly did. With four people helping, dishes and everything else were done in no time. Bab trailed the other girls out of the kitchen, itching to tell Aunt Barbara about tonight. It was too soon to tell how they’d take knowing Bab’s whole self, but for now they added warmth she couldn’t get with cookies alone. END     "Barbara in the Frame” was originally published in FIYAH and is copyright Emmalia Harrington, 2017. This recording is a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license which means you can share it with anyone you’d like, but please don’t change or sell it. Our theme is “Aurora Borealis” by Bird Creek, available through the Google Audio Library. You can support GlitterShip by checking out our Patreon at patreon.com/keffy, subscribing to our feed, leaving reviews on iTunes, or buying your own copy of the Summer 2018 issue at www.glittership.com/buy. You can also support us by picking up a free audiobook at  www.audibletrial.com/glittership. Thanks for listening, and we’ll be back soon with a new issue and a GlitterShip original, "Raders" by Nelson Stanley.

Join Nathan and Becks as they discuss the difference between Mamaw and Aunt Barbara, how great Nathan's outfit looks, Superbowl commercials, and a bond built on pickles.

Aunt Barbara makes her triumphant return to The Focus Group just in time for the holidays, gift giving, and all things Tupperware. Tim and John loved the can opener—item # 1291—hint, hint. But first, John shows us his Peter Millar Excursionist blazer and Tim announced that Under Armour stopped strip club expenses. We’re all business. Except when we’re not. Apple Podcasts: apple.co/1WwDBrC Spotify: spoti.fi/2pC19B1 iHeart Radio: bit.ly/2n0Z7H1 Tunein: bit.ly/1SE3NMb Stitcher: bit.ly/1N97Zqu Google Podcasts: bit.ly/1pQTcVW YouTube: bit.ly/1spAF5a Also follow Tim and John on: Facebook: www.facebook.com/focusgroupradio Twitter: www.twitter.com/focusgroupradio Instagram: www.instagram.com/focusgroupradio

Today's Guest: Barbara Eden, star, 'I Dream of Jeannie,' 'Harper Valley PTA Mr. Media is recorded live before a studio audience of former NASA astronauts—male and female—who signed up for space travel because it seemed like the best way to meet Barbara Eden… in the NEW new media capital of the world… St. Petersburg, Florida! Order Jeannie Out of the Bottle by Barbara Eden, available from Amazon.com, by clicking on the book cover above! In a moment, I’m going to be talking to Jeannie. The character who bedeviled Dr. Alfred Bellows. The innocently seductive soul who tamed bachelor-for-life Major Anthony Nelson. And the absolutely stunning, real-life woman who helped a lot of young men meet puberty head on. Raquel Welch last fall, Barbara Eden today – my inner teen wants to know what took so long! BARBARA EDEN audio excerpt: "The minute I Dream of Jeannie was, 'Honey, I'm home,' and the little housewife thing, it was over. I think it was a mistake." You can LISTEN to this interview with actress BARBARA EDEN, star of I DREAM OF JEANNIE, by clicking the audio player above! This really is a treat; I watched “I Dream of Jeannie” with my parents when it was still on network TV, then re-watched the episodes a few hundred more times over the ensuing decades. And there came the day when I rediscovered it with my daughter, Rachel, introducing a new generation to the wonders of bottled blondes with magical powers and evil twin sisters. Order 'I Dream of Jeannie: The Complete Series Boxset,' available from Amazon.com by clicking on the DVD box above! Barbara is here today because she recently published her autobiography, Jeannie Out of The Bottle. She probably doesn’t know this, but two previous Mr. Media interviews presaged her appearance. The first was with Larry Thomas, best known for playing the Soup Nazi on “Seinfeld.” A few years back he talked about what a wonderful actress and human being Barbara was when they appeared together doing live theater. Second was when I interviewed her proud niece, Katharine Fugate, the creator of the Lifetime network show, “Army Wives.” Katharine said during that show, “You should have my Aunt Barbara as a guest.” As you wish, Mistress. Barbara Eden Website • Twitter • Facebook • Order Jeannie Out of the Bottle by Barbara Eden!

Super Gay Radio is back with an all new uncensored episode featuring Paul InMass! Call 323 657-1493 to ask a question and join the fun! Guest 1:  Miss Viola with a RuPaul Review! Guest 2:  Aunt Barbara talks Tupperware and so much more!   Take the Rated G Radio 10 Question Anonymous Survey about your listening experience here!Buy Garrett's album BLOND JESUS direct!  Get your digital download here!SuperStarSwag is back!  Click here!Rated G Radio is on iTunes as a Podcast.  Get all 900+ episodes free here!

Super Gay Radio is back with an all new uncensored episode featuring Paul InMass! Call 323 657-1493 to ask a question and join the fun! Guest 1:  Miss Viola with a RuPaul Review! Guest 2:  Aunt Barbara talks Tupperware and so much more!   Take the Rated G Radio 10 Question Anonymous Survey about your listening experience here!Buy Garrett’s album BLOND JESUS direct!  Get your digital download here!SuperStarSwag is back!  Click here!Rated G Radio is on iTunes as a Podcast.  Get all 900+ episodes free here!

Aunt Barbara is your favorite relative, top-seling Tupperware lady, homemaker, hand model and media sensation!  Aunt Barbara will be our VIP Guest Super Star tonight talking about the latest in keeping you and your food fresh as a spring time flower. Check out Aunt Barbara's Tupperware and BUY it tonight by clicking here! Become a fan of Aunt Barbara on Facebook here! Tweet with Aunt Barbara here! Read 10 Things You Didn't Know About Tupperware here! Have a question for Aunt Barbara? Call 323 657-1493 to join the fun!  

Aunt Barbara is your favorite relative, top-seling Tupperware lady, homemaker, hand model and media sensation!  Aunt Barbara will be our VIP Guest Super Star tonight talking about the latest in keeping you and your food fresh as a spring time flower. Check out Aunt Barbara's Tupperware and BUY it tonight by clicking here! Become a fan of Aunt Barbara on Facebook here! Tweet with Aunt Barbara here! Read 10 Things You Didn't Know About Tupperware here! Have a question for Aunt Barbara? Call 323 657-1493 to join the fun!  

The Bedford & Sullivan podcast is back as the summer heat gets underway! On this episode, my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Stan will once more call in to talk about Brooklyn. We'll discuss such things as the similarities and differences between Queens and Brooklyn (as Barbara spent a couple years in the other Borough), taking the trolleys, trains and buses, and their take on the mass suburban migration they witnessed in the late '50's. So, join us at 6:30pm ET for the latest edition of the Bedford & Sullivan podcast!

We are settling into the New Year with the first 2014 edition of the Bedford & Sullivan podcast, and we're keeping it in the family. My mother's sister Barbara and Stan, her husband of 43 years, both grew up in Brooklyn and have their own unique perspective of the time we are focusing on in the development of the TV series. My aunt Barbara will discuss everything from heading out to Brighton Beach in the summer to collecting popcicle sticks to get into Ebbets Field for free, while Stan will discuss everything from his life growing up a Giants fan in Flatbush to playing basketball on his friend's driveway hoop on the way home from school. So, join the family at 6:30PM ET for the latest edition of the Bedford & Sullivan podcast!