A Different Love Song

cookbookdonationWe’ve been working through our stuff using the KonMari method. You can read more about the process at Flamingohouse Happenings. One thing I’ve known since I knew we were starting this method was that…my millions of cookbooks weren’t bringing me joy.

I kept many the last time we moved and have bought more in the years since…for this blog. Many of them are fantastic with recipes, with women’s names, with corny pictures, with absolutely horrifying photos and illustrations.  I thought they brought me joy. I wanted them to bring me joy. I wanted a life like the Retro-food woman illustration I created. Apron, smile on my face, quirky recipes from yesteryear popping out from my kitchen and on to this blog. I still do in a way.

That didn’t happen. I don’t foresee it happening. It just isn’t where I am at anymore. I’ve kept the ones I use or can’t part with because just seeing them is joy. The rest though will be donated and someone else can find their joy with them.

Instead of a weighty expectation that I will meet a lofty ideal of a 50s housewife and big name blogger with the best niche in food sitting on an overstuffed bookshelf outside my bedroom, I will be free of expectations I just don’t meet, that don’t suit me at this point in my life.

That does mean officially, this isn’t a food blog anymore–though the archives contain the best and the brightest of magic from my collection. Or at least the best and brightest I actually followed through with and posted.

Instead I will post my life, my love, whatever quirky things catch my brain cells. That will probably include food sometimes. In the meantime, start listening because I will start to sing a love song of me, the real me, a more transparent me and less of a hiding behind a cookbook with a funny photo. I am letting go of the expectations I put on myself and embracing the joy in my life.

I Facebooked…but should have blogged!

So here are the things I should have blogged:

Dog Newssickpoodle
Skeeter Bess–most beautiful and smart poodle and treeing walker coonhound in the world got sick last week. Really sick. She went from having some soft stools to shooting liquid blood out!

So, she went to the puppy hospital. (Blue Pearl , which I HIGHLY recommend. It is a chain, so check in your area–Skeeter has ended up there several times. The staff is SUPER. The staff is diverse. The prices are sometimes cheaper than our regular vet (who we do love) She stayed overnight, had bloodwork, ivs, meds. They tested her on food but since her digestive tract was empty when she came in–they didn’t get any fresh stools during her visit. We have been watching her like a hawk since she came home on Saturday for her to poop. Last night she did–it was black. I blamed it on old blood/meds. This morning it happened again. Denise called the vet who said “No, not normal. Take her back to Blue Pearl. Sounds like she needs the ultrasound and we will send her there anyway for that.”

We took her back. They took her to the ER part (where the pet people do not go.) and did a rectal exam which looked…NORMAL. But after talking with us, she came home on another med.

My Younger Sister’s Birthdaybirthdayshots

Mama coaxed me to take my younger sister out to dinner for her birthday. My sister lives in a nursing home and has considerable medical needs. She has gotten to the point where she can transfer to and from the wheelchair to the car and spend some time in a smaller “portable” wheelchair. (Portable in quotes because it weighed a ton and was hard to fit in the back of the puppywagon) So, anyhow, we ventured out with her and I was nervous. What if she got sick? What if she had a seizure? What if she fell? What if we did as we often do and turned into the sisters who act like they did when we were small?
Denise picked Toby Keith’s Grill for dinner. The drive there took forever because of traffic. Then the parking situation/driving up to drop off my mother and sister situation was totally insane. Add in the ACEN 2015 conference down the block and well, I was sort of a mess by the time we got there. (mostly the dropping off–a lot of walking for Mama. I’d left her walker at home, so the wheelchair would fit. Then I was pushing the wheelchair, helping steady Mama and carry her purse while Denise found parking.
By the way–the area it is in had some really interesting looking restaurants and entertainment options. It reminded me of sort of Harborplace meets South Beach or something. There is also a Outlet Mall nearby.

Then I got to Toby Keiths and wasn’t sure of the menu. Was there something Julia Rose would eat? Mama? Me? I also pondered the scantily clad staff that looked like UF co-eds and country music. Hmm. Why were we here? I did get a “specialty cocktail menu” mentioned on the main menu after asking after a drinks menu and being handed a beer menu. (Bleck)

The waitress was likely tired of our delays in ordering drinks. Denise finally came in. We ordered drinks. Then food. (Even after convincing my sister that it was indeed acceptable to order an appetizer for a meal) The brisket was good. The okra was good. The loaded freedom fries were good. Julia Rose enjoyed her meal. We all enjoyed our beverages. Julia Rose had held her meds–so we got the experience of sharing a shot together. (Birthday Cake Slice–some sort of birthday cake vodka with a TON of whipped cream and sprinkles–very festive.) The music was a bit loud but the restaurant wasn’t. Denise found a quicker way to parking and was able to pick us up with less walking. (though they made a pit stop in the bathroom which was quite a trudge to the back of a large restaurant) All went well and I think everyone enjoyed it, even though Denise was super tired.

Mama Sick

On Mondays, in a normal week, Mama goes to visit Julia Rose at the nursing home. She was feeling fine when she woke up this morning–but not long after getting to the nursing home–she texted saying she was unwell with tummy troubles and I had to come get her right away. So, I fetched her, brought a shaky, sick Mama home–I’d taken a chuck and nausea and diarrhea meds and water with me to help her as soon as possible.

She took a shower when she got home and was too shaky to get back to bed on her own. Scary. Especially since it wasn’t just she FELT too shaky–but actually was and I was definitely put into service to keep her from falling. That rarely happens.

Long enough…to be continued.

 

Happy Earth Day!

Have you thought about how you eat being related to the state of the planet? Do you actually do something besides “I think that is a great idea. I will give it a try!”? I confess that my efforts have been small. It is so easy to go for the easier way through the store and through the kitchen. I really want to work on this though. I suspect the driving factor is that food waste does cost us a lot of money. You should have seen the guilt on my face as I cleaned out my spices and one of our cupboards recently.

Don’t know why it matters? Read this post: Why Your Personal Food Waste Matters

Need some recipes to make with “dead” food or scraps you’d throw out? Check out 5 Recipes to Reduce Food Waste

What do you do to help reduce food waste in your household?

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I love Rock and Roll…and Women

As we planned our weekend in Cleveland to visit our Freshman College Girl, we decided to skip “Parents’ Weekend” activities. I want to see the library from the inside but other than that–breakfast with the President of the college isn’t high on my list. I prefer breakfast with my baby.

Denise was in agreement about this as was College Girl. She then read up on Cleveland and made plans. I said I wanted to go to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Denise was slightly surprised about this but I explained “I’ve never been. I’ve never even actually been to Cleveland.”(other than to drive through/by) After saying that, I didn’t really inquire into our plans though.

Day 1 was a flurry of typical Denise trip places–she planned well for the vegan daughter, the quirky us, and of course, herself. I figured, ok–rock will have to wait. Then I learned we would be going on Sunday. I groaned because “Time! It will take all day!” and I didn’t want to be getting back late at night. But, ok. We invited one of College Girl’s roommates (her parents were in CA and couldn’t make it for the weekend and hey, what is one more stray. I made sure to let her know she was welcome to come home with RJ if there were breaks she didn’t have somewhere to go.) Off we went. First we stopped at a vegetarian breakfast place. (where RJ ate something that looked like dinner in my book) Roommate had to be back at the school by 2 for some study thing with someone.

Then we were off to Rock. Ok, we were off to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I was in love from the time we walked in. I COULD have spent all day there. There were movies that we missed. We certainly couldn’t read every single thing on every single sign. It reminded me of the Smithsonian Museum of American History in that way. But, here is where I get grumpy. I am pretty sure there are more First Ladies than women artists showcased in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

That isn’t to say I wasn’t entranced. I mean–OMG Rock and Roll. I’d certainly go back again and again and again. And if you are a music person who wants to buy music in a non-digital way–it looked like they had a good selection. But, when I ended up in the gift shop–blah. If I had a tot I wanted to blanket in Rock propaganda–I was good. If I was a guy-sure. If I was a woman (and I am) I was limited to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame version of oh, I was going to say “Legos for Girls” but really–not even that. I was irked. I mean point me at a gift shop and I can find something that intrigues me. But really, there? I wandered through and then double checked, then left.

Not only do they need a better representation as a whole in the museum of women who rock–but also consider that women might want something more than a pink glittery tshirt saying I heart the rock and roll hall of fame.