Not so Domestic Goddess

cherry pies are not supposed to be white. Well, some how I managed to make mine white. Fudge pies are not meant to be liquid, well, somehow I managed to make one that would have been easier to consume through a straw than with a fork. let's just say everyone who ate that pie, lived to regret it...



Growing up we had a home cooked meal every night, and every Sunday we grilled out: typically pork chops or "Hines burgers." Typically dinner is a time for people - family, friends, loved ones- to get together to share a meal and enjoy each others company. Junior year of high school we decided to cook dinner for our boyfriends: I was in charge of the chicken... let's just say thank goodness for 10 minute rice because that's all we ate that night!

My culinary skills have improved over the years, this impart is due greatly to my patience level increasing. However, I can never cook a Crockpot meal, while I'm at home because I take the lid off every 10 minutes to check on it! One thing I learned the hard way is that the old saying "different strokes for different folks" defiantly applies to appetites. One of my favorite desserts is Chess pie { for those of you who've never had it it's basically a pecan pie without the pecans} I made it for our friend Thanksgiving dinner 2 years ago, one of my best friends, Lisa was the first to take a bite. She gasped, and spit it out. It went downhill from there. Recently I decided to give the ole Chess Pie another shot... they loved it! Maybe our tastes mature with age, or maybe my culinary skills were awful.

My favorite sandwich will always be peanut butter and cheese, and my favorite meal will always be chicken fingers and fries-- guess my tastes are yet to mature!

Nicknames

Hadley. When I tell people that’s my name, it’s usually followed by “wow, that’s very unique”, or “Hadley?” as if they are making sure that I in fact said my name was Hadley, and not Hayley or something like it. Megan, my very first roommate in college called me to discuss our living situation. “ Hi is Hadelee there?” she said, “ yes, this is Hadley” I responded in a very snarky tone. She has been one of my very best friends ever since. Growing up I was never too fond of my name, but then again most people don’t call me Hadley. For my friends it’s : Hads, Hines, HRH, Stucky, Bubba, the list goes on and on. I love my full name, Hadley Rebecca Hines, because of my initials: HRH – Her Royal Highness. Growing up my favorite t-shirt said “treat me no differently than you would the queen”, words to live by, let me tell you! For those of you who didn’t know me until later in life, I’m sure this explains a lot!

Bubba Chunk. Bubba for short. The name, Bubba Chunk started at the "kids" Thanksgiving table about 15 years ago. I was probably on my fourth helping of Thanksgiving dinner, when Will, my brother so affectionalty referred to me "Bubba Chunk" and thus it all began... I will be the first to admit it, I was fat, fat probably doesn’t do it justice I was HUGE, tipping the scales at 168 in the 3^rd grade; my mom still claims I was just right. How do you get Hadley off the diving board? You get her brother to stand at the bottom with a box of crispy creme donuts. How do you get Hadley to walk around Williamsburg without complaining? Promise her fudge. I could retell countless examples when food was the reason I got to the end result.

Stucky. I never had sisters, but Elizabeth and Sarah are about as close to it as they come. We spent almost every summer together starting in the 5^th grade when the Hines family moved onto Whitland Avenue. Sarah had a tree house in her front yard that we played in all the time. Elizabeth- who had a broken arm at the time- and I were playing in their front yard, when the neighborhood boys started attacking us with water guns. I decided to seek refuge in the tree house. As I squeezed my women’s size 18 body in between the tree and the ladder i reached the top. I got my arms through and half of my upper body, but the rest just wouldn’t fit. I was stuck. As my legs dangled below the open hole, my new nickname ‘stuck’.

1926

Work friends, at a Sunday dinner party!

My very first friends at work, still my very favorite.

One day last summer I spent six hours in a hot kitchen at the fairgrounds in Northern Virginia making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for 2,500 Girl Scouts who were camping all weekend. That’s passion.

Last January I modeled our cookie costumes so our volunteers would have an idea of what they looked like. Pictures of me wearing giant Thin Mints and Tagalongs were sent out to several Girl Scout volunteers in the Northern Virginia area. That’s passion. I work and volunteer at evening events and on the weekends.

I love what I do, Girl Scouting is my passion.

Ketchup with Hines 2036. That was my campaign slogan for my Presidential campaign. Politics was my passion for years. But as my sophomore year in college came to an end, my career path changed. Girl Scouting was a huge part of my life growing up, and I decided I wanted to make a career out of my passion. I changed my major from government to communication and I was determined to work for the Girl Scouts. I had a professor in college; I like to call him the Mr. Springman of George mason who always encouraged me to go after my passion. He made phone calls on my behalf, and mentored me throughout my collegiate career. Because of my professor, family, and friends I am able to work everyday at a job that I love and I am passionate about.

Money gets in the way of people following their passions. Working for a non-profit, at least in my case will never make me rich. I have learned to measure wealth not in monetary terms, but in smiles of my Daisy troop each meeting, in the number of girls my donations send to summer camp, in our wonderful volunteers who have full time jobs but still find the time to dedicate to Girl Scouting, and last but certainly not least in the number of Girl Scout Cookies I get to eat on any given day. The amount of joy I get out of my job, my passion, makes me wealthier than most.

I sent my resume once a week for six months until I was given an interview. I’m not sure if it was because they were sick of me, or because I offered to accept cookies as a form of payment but I finally got the job. Almost two years later I’m still here, and Girl Scouting is still my passion. My coworkers in Leesburg and in the DC office have become my Girl Scout Family.