Grateful Last Thursday

Happy Blogiversary to me! Today marks a year for my blog. What better way to end this year of blogging and the year of 2009 than with a Grateful post? There are so many things for which to be grateful, I'm afraid the only real way to pay homage to them all would be to re-list everything I've named this year... so that's what I'll do, briefly. If you can't read all of them (because it is a lot!) skip to the last three. They sum it up.

1) My husband, who brings me lunch

2) Smoothies

3) The sun streaming through windows onto my face

4) The people with whom I work

5) The promotions and raises I keep getting at work

6) That I had a man like my grandfather in my life, even if it was only for the first 25 years

7) Indian food

8) Baseball games and crawfish boils

9) Forgiveness: both my ability to forgive and others' forgiveness of my mistakes

10) Overcoats

11) My dog and cat

12) Lazy Sundays with my husband

13) Grandmothers

14) My new blog friends

15) Lost, the best show on tv

16) My husband, who cleans our house

17) Low mortgage interest rates

18) A good meal with good friends

19) My health and my husband's health

20) Busy days at work
21) The rain

22) Emails from my father

23) Company sponsored health insurance
24) Japanese food and fried rice

25) The maple tree across the street from my office window

26) My husband, who keeps me sane

27) Baseball season and the friends we make

28) The birds on my feeders in the morning

29) Spring

30) A plan-filled weekend

31) Financial security. Not abundance, but security

32) My car, my paid-for car

33) Racoons

34) My boss

35) Another dog, happy and warm and loved, saved from the shelter, and going to live a long life with a good family

36) Clean Sheets

37) Bananas

38) My father-in-law

39) A night to myself

40) Antibiotics

41) Irises blooming in my front yard

42) My birthday

43) The quilts made by my great-grandmother

44) Fridays

45) The new donut place down the street

46) The weekend. Did I say that already?

47) Surviving summer storms

48) Flowers

49) This grateful Thursday post I do

50) Junior mints and peanut butter cups

51) The recycling pick-up men

52) The new Thai restaurant in town

53) My husband, and the calming effect he has on me

54) A beautiful weekend

55) The tile on our fireplace
56) Tom Petty
57) My blog awards

58) Seeing the outcome to hard work

59) Good friends in all their groups

60) The power of a good movie

61) Friends expanding their families 

62) The quiet that leads to productivity

63) My fellow bloggers

64) The ability to make a difference, even if very small

65) Days without headaches

66) Personal space

67) A house full of animals

68) Air conditioning

69) My naturally high metabolism

70) My parents

71) Employment

72) Three-day weekends

73) My doctor

74) Peaceful and happy nights with good food and quiet comforts

75) The smell of fresh cut grass, and my persistent portulaca

76) My husband's little brother

77) I don't know that I've said this before here, but it seems so obvious: my Bubby

78) My fourth wedding anniversary

79) Every breath I take

80) A good ink pen

81) New life, in all its forms

82) Lessons learned
83) My fickle mind

84) Success
85) The beach

86) My coworker, Emily

87) The smell of rosemary on my hands

88) Art gracing my walls

89) Snuggling with Bub on the couch

90) The internet

91) Black beans

92) Football season

93) Shoes

94) Perspective

95) Onion rings, and in correlation, discovering new favorite foods

96) New technology

97) Even greater financial stability

98) A short doctor's visit

99) The new prescription for my migraines

100) Kindness of strangers

101) Sushi

102) The Fall

103) Pepto Bismol-- enough said

104) Cardigans

105) Hand sanitizer

106) Halloween

107) Diet root beer

108) The Golden Girls

109) My husband, who cooks my dinner on difficult days

110) Feeling better after being sick
111) A good friend visiting

112) New direction at work

113) A full belly, being finally in front of the tv in my pajamas with my husband on one side and my dog on the other

114) My vet
115) Vacations
116) Living in a country where we take a day to count our blessings
117) Sweet potato casserole

118) Stability
119) Fall colors
120) A good night with my husband's sister, her husband, and my husband's little brother

121) My charitable company

122) Cold weather

123) The freedom to make the choice to be childless

124) Christmas shopping done on time
125) My massage therapist
126) Christmas carols

127) Family, regardless of disputes

128) The sun and the moon, the wind and rain, the sky above me and the earth below, the trees, the flowers, the birds and bees, and everything else that makes this world a beautiful place in which to live
129) My husband. I've said it before and I'll say it again. He's the love of my life and I'm grateful for every day that I get to spend with him

130) Life. I don't really know how else to put it. There are some good days and bad days, but overall I'm thankful to just be here, experiencing everything that I'm blessed to experience.

Whew. I could have weeded some out, but why? I am grateful for every one of those things and much more. Those last three really say it all.

I hope everyone is safe tonight and has a wonderful time celebrating the coming new year. I've never been one to put much stock in changes like this-- January 1, 2010 will feel the same to me as December 31, 2009. I won't wake up smarter or happier or skinnier or wiser just because the date on the calendar changed. The only way to improve a life is to strive for positivity, for love, and for oneness with the world and those around us. If we hold onto negativity and hate, a changing date won't change our world and it won't change us. We have to change ourselves.

I feel that this grateful journal I've kept has made me much more aware of the blessings in my life and therefore much happier and fulfilled, even though in reality I have the same things and do the same things I was doing this time last year. People notice I'm happier too. My hope is that we all can find a way to push towards this goal of internal fulfillment and influence the ones we love to do the same. A resolution to stick to, maybe?

in pictures

The last few days, summarized in a few pictures:

the presents our company was able to donate to Angel Tree girls

me, at the Tacky party...

too bad you can't see my holly socks in these photos

My in-law's beautiful tree and all our presents to each other

We ate too much!

and played lots of games (my team won this one)

And it snowed...

and snowed, and snowed, and snowed.... 

But we made it home safe and sound...

...and the kids were happy to greet us.

Grateful Christmas Eve

Merry Christmas Eve! I'm on the road right now, making our winding way north many hours to my mother-in-law's house. It's supposed to be raining right now too, so wish us luck, but those rain drops should change to flurries by tomorrow morning. Obviously I've pre-written this post, scheduled for this Christmas Eve morning, as I'm too busy counting hawks perched on lonely fence posts somewhere in the Arkansas/Missouri delta to write this (not to mention reading or writing in the car, or anything other than sleep that takes my eyes off the road, will make me puke).

This will be my last post until Monday at least. I have my laptop with me, but I don't plan on opening it except in work-related emergencies, and while I can read all your lovely comments from my phone's browser, I do not plan on tip-tapping out a whole post on that tiny virtual keyboard.

So Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Holly Jolly Holidays, Joyous Festivus, or Happy Whatever it is that you celebrate or don't celebrate (just have a good day), and I will return next week a few pounds heavier and much more well-rested.

1) Good friends. This week I've been able to celebrate with my coworkers, who I count as friends, my other friends at our tacky party, and still more friends at a different party. My coworkers are all fantastic people who care about their work and this company, and it's a pleasure to work with them. The office party was a riot, especially the White Elephant exchange. My "tacky" friends, the ones we've made over the last few years at the baseball games we attend in the spring, are a mix of intelligent and silly, boisterous and reserved, thoughtful and wild. I think it's this mix that makes us such a close knit group. We all have our spots to fill, and no one else would fit. And our old friends, the ones we've held close since early days of college-- even though they're having kids and moving into a stage of life my husband and I are not ready to experience, getting together with them is like reversing the clock, and there's nothing like spending time with someone who knows you so well and yet still loves you.

2) Family. Regardless of the argument with my little brother, I am thankful for all the experiences I've had with my family. My older brother seems to be getting himself together, fingers crossed. My parents are happier than they've been in a while with more freedom to travel when and where they want. My husband's family gets along so well, and I fit right in. I've only once or twice had a "mother-in-law" moment where I worried she and I were going to butt heads, but in the end we've found we have more in common than not. His brother and sister have become my brother and sister. I can't imagine being more grateful than I am for such a large, diverse, and loving family.

3) Peace and joy. Despite how busy I've been jumping from party to party, this week has left me feeling so far very peaceful and loved. I have so many people in my life who love me and who I love, and I fully recognize how lucky and blessed I am for that. I enjoy my job and my coworkers, my home life is everything I want it to be, I have great friends, I'm financially secure, my health and the health of those I love is good... what else do I need? What else could I ask for? Nothing.

All I want for Christmas is for everyone else to feel as blessed and complete as I feel.

cookies, candy, and sweets, oh my

Husband and I spent about three hours on Sunday decorating my (awesome) sugar cookies, after I spent about 4 hours Saturday baking them! The trick, I think, is to roll them out on powdered sugar and not flour-- same less-sticky effect, but without the floury aftertaste.

Here are some pictures for you. Can you guess which ones I decorated and which he decorated? Ha! I'm particularly proud of the abstract tree in the first picture. I've been trying to decide to whom to give it. My dad would appreciate the artistic quality, I think. It is hard to watch all my creativity gobbled up though, no matter who does the gobbling.

Grateful Thursday

1) Almost all my Christmas shopping is done! I got some great stuff for people, I know we're going to surprise and delight at least a few of them. I have my step-mother-in-law left, but my brother-in-law just gave me a good idea for her, a DVD set, but the question is can I get it here. I guess it doesn't matter too much though as we won't do Christmas with them until the week after Christmas. Everything else I'm finishing up on Saturday.

2) This weekend. I have big plans to finish shopping, get stuff for tacky Christmas outfits, and bake sugar and butter cookies. I need recipes for those. Husband and I are going to decorate them on Sunday. I have a short work meeting on Sunday as well, but afterward we'll go see Avatar with his little brother and maybe over to his house to play some pool. Everyone else seems to be out of town, so it should be a quiet and comforting weekend, which I need right now, before the storm starts.

3) In about 15 minutes, I will be laying on a table letting the best massage therapist in the South go to work on my neck and shoulders. Boy do I need it. It's my gift to myself.

4) My coworkers. We had a pretty stressful week. One of our big franchise clients sent in private auditors-- they wanted to make sure their information was being kept safe, and even though it was planned last minute and preparing for it took a lot of time and energy from everyone, we knocked it out of the park. Everyone around here has such a good attitude and I'm lucky to work with such awesome people and also to work in a place where this awesomeness is sought out, encouraged, and rewarded.

5) Since we're a week from Christmas Eve, I feel it's finally an appropriate time to say how much I enjoy Christmas carols. I do not like it when stations start playing them the day after Halloween, and I don't want to hear them even right after Thanksgiving. Christmas should be confined to Christmas. But I do enjoy some Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole and even Mariah Carey carols.

So Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and all that fun stuff. Here's my favorite Christmas song from my favorite Christmas movie for you (won't let me embed, so here's the link):
All I Want for Christmas from Love Actually

holiday round-up

The veggie kitchen is closed for the holidays. I can't remember the last time I made it to Kroger-- between work and holiday parties and family in town, the last meal at home we had was Stouffer's microwavable manicotti on Sunday, which was good, but is falling over the "homemade" fence onto the "definitely not" side. I plan on going to the grocery store today and getting enough food to make it through the weekend, but starting Monday it's back to parties and families and travel.

Monday night is my office party. I'm lucky enough to work at such a young office, so I know this will be a fun party. My boss's partner owns a bar-- there will be plenty of alcohol since we'll be having it there. We're also doing a White Elephant gift exchange, sometimes called Dirty Santa. For those of you who don't know what this entails, click that link back there to wikipedia. I have to think of a good gift-- our limit is $25. I think a board game would be good, something like Taboo. We decided to go for real gifts instead of gag gifts as this is meant to replace anyone feeling like they have to get the boss a gift or a small gift for coworkers or anything like that. If anyone out there reading this has any creative ideas for my gift I'd love to hear them! But keep in mind I have to get it here in town, not online as there's no shipping time left.

I decided on this coming Saturday I'm going to make a big batch of Christmas cookies and husband and I will decorate them on Sunday. We can give them away as gifts to his coworkers and our friends. We're also going to a tacky Christmas party on Tuesday night and I'm supposed to bring the dessert, so I'll make some super-tacky cookies to accompany us. I think we're going to go to Good Will and get some terrible holiday sweaters (think giant snowflakes and smiling reindeer) to wear over normal clothes for the party-- we have another party to go to directly afterward, and it's a cocktail party, so we have to be mobile. There's a band and drinks at this later party so we'll be out pretty late again.

Wednesday night we're doing Christmas with my family at my parents' condo. They'll be back up here for that, and my older brother will still be here, so I bought a book for him yesterday so he has something to unwrap from us. They aren't giving me and my husband anything that we will unwrap since they're paying for our Italy plane tickets, but I imagine my mother wrapped up some underwear or socks and a picture of Italy if I know her. We'll eat dinner together though as that's the last time we'll see each other before Christmas. I am thankful they are coming up here because they'll be able to watch Bub while we're at my husband's mom's house.

Thursday, Christmas Eve, we make the five hour trip to his mom's house where we will spend Christmas with his mom, step-dad, sister, brother-in-law, and his aunts, uncles, and cousins. They're a fun group-- board games, jokes, music, cooking, etc. We'll be coming back home on Sunday, and on Monday it's back to work.

The holidays can be so hectic. Luckily I've gotten almost all our shopping done with just a couple things to pick up this weekend, mostly for my husband. So far I've gotten him two sweaters (on sale for $29 each!), but because he's already wrapped my gifts and apparently I'm getting four, once of which I know is an expensive overcoat, I had to think of some other things to get him. I came up with a massage gift certificate and a pair of Toms. I'm not sure he'll like the Toms, but he can wear them as houseshoes, and I think guys in these shoes always look so cute.

I asked for everything I'm getting except for one or two things from my husband; he seems to have gone overboard. I don't like surprises very much. I suppose not wanting surprises means I miss out on some of the Christmas joy-- although I don't know exactly what's in a package, I usually have a pretty good idea. I just hate to see money or time wasted on stuff I don't want or need. In my opinion, we'd probably all be better off exchanging nothing but our time spent with each other at Christmas rather than bought gifts. I guess that wouldn't be as much fun though, and I do like to shop for special gifts that make people smile.

cool down

Little brother got on his flight yesterday and is gone. My mother, though at first she suggested dinner, decided she needed to rest too, so they ordered pizza over there and I made manicotti at home. It was nice to have a bit of peace with my husband. I ate lunch with my parents and my older brother today, and it was nice-- not one cross word spoken. That rarely happens, but it's a more common occurrence if at least one of the brothers is not there. My parents have gone back to their hometown, but they left my older brother here. He doesn't want to drive home until after the holidays-- nothing to go back to, he says. I don't blame him.

I got a facebook message from my little brother earlier today. No apology, no, it was "I didn't want to stay at your house anyway" and "I don't have to prove anything to anyone, I'm a man" bullshit, ended with the comment that I won't be hearing from him again. Part me is playing a tiny violin for him, like my grandfather used to mimic when one of us was telling a sob story, and the other part is thinking that I hope he's telling the truth. No part of me is worried. I'm too drained to care.

Right now I'm comfy in a huge fleece jacket on my couch, Bub rooting his nose under one arm and the laptop keeping my legs warm. I have heartburn from too much Indian food, but personally I think that's a good problem to have. Husband is flipping channels between Family Guy and football, so he's happy too. We had a good, productive day-- after lunch we went to Home Depot and got a new faucet for the guest bath. We want to change all the faucets in the house (the builder put in the cheapest ones available, $14, with clear plastic handles) but we started with just one to see how hard it was to change. Took about 45 minutes, no big deal, so husband's going to buy two more tomorrow.

An aside, I love that Gap commercial with the little girls rapping about comfy sweaters and cute boots. I fully understand that it ticks all the annoying boxes, but for some reason it's not to me.

I wrapped all the presents we had bought this afternoon as well, pretty in snowmen and wreaths and candy cane paper with big bows and sparkly name tags. I'm finally getting in the Christmas spirit, not a moment too soon.

I want to thank everyone for their kind and thoughtful comments both on yesterday's post and on the previous post about having children. I feel very blessed to have such intelligent readers, and I learn from each of you. I can be a downer sometimes, I'm sure, so thank you all for sticking around and offering your advice, condolence, or just an open ear. Gives me faith in humanity.

Time for a piece of that fudge my mom brought up with her.

family time

I am, frankly, too old to have screaming fights. That's what 12-year-olds do when they don't get their way. Neither of my brothers seem to have progressed, emotionally speaking, past that age.

Last night we were supposed to have a family dinner. The whole family hasn't been all together in three years, so my mom wanted us to take the one night we had together in the same town before my little brother flew out to go to dinner. My older brother beat them to town and went ahead to their condo. My mom told me they would be in town around 6 but ended up being about 45 minutes late, and older brother, who has the patience of a toddler who has to pee, was already fuming at being made to wait. Apparently as soon as my parents, little brother, and his girlfriend walked through the door he was on them, snarking and snapping, and little brother, who has the temper of a red wasp, lit right back into him.

I got a call saying my dad had gone to bed, my older brother had disappeared, and it would just be mom, little brother, and the girlfriend for dinner. I held onto my husband's elbow as I listened to my mom try to excuse their behavior and make light of it all, bless her heart. By the time they got to the restaurant I was already one beer in-- if there's anything that will drive me to drink, it's spending time with my family. Dinner, after little brother finally calmed down, was relatively normal. He of course had to make snapped remarks to my mother when she tried to give advice or worried over him not having his coat (I'm 24, Mom, I take care of myself all the time, I don't need you now, etc). They went out to a bar, with my extra key so they could sleep in my guest room, my mom went back to the condo, and husband and I went home, finally.

At 5 a.m., a very drunk little brother stumbled into my house. They smoked in my garage, apparently, but went to bed afterwards. At 9:30 my mom called to wake them up so they could get ready in time for their flight. Little brother was paying the price and spent a while in the bathroom throwing up. He was in a foul mood the rest of the morning. I don't know what he said to her, but his girlfriend spent the morning walking around my house crying. Mom and I mostly tried to stay out of the way. Little brother was throwing things around in the guest room, from suitcase to floor to suitcase, mumbling and yelling. Mom asked him about his phone, which was broken (she told me at one point they came to the condo last night, he was drunk and his phone was broken, but she didn't give me details, thankfully), wondering if he could repair it. He came flying out the guest room, demanding at the top of his lungs if she thought he was stupid or wouldn't think of getting it repaired and didn't she know how fucking old he was and that he could fucking take care of himself.

I had had enough. I live a very peaceful life here. There have been very few fights in this house. And this is my house. He can scream all he wants in his own, but no one will talk to my mother in my house that way, and I told him so.

I suppose that was a mistake, I suppose I should have just let it go. I'm so tired of letting things go, I've done that for the last 27 years. It's not fair to my mother, and someone has to stand up for her since she won't do it for herself for the sake of keeping peace. I listened to him rant at me the rest of his time here, about nothing in particular, just how ready he was to go home and how he hates the South and how no one understands him and how he hates everyone.

His girlfriend continued to cry as she went out to the car. Mom went out with her to crank it up, and little brother exited with his last bag. I sighed and dialed my husband, feeling the tears start to fall. But little brother came back in. I could tell by his face he wanted to apologize, but like I said, I had had it. There's no apology for something like that, not really, no apology can cover 24 years of insane rants and destroyed family gatherings and dramatic outbursts.

Before he could even start I told him that this was why I didn't call more often, why I didn't include him in my life, because he corrupts and mutilates my peace and quiet, the peace and quiet I've striven so hard to achieve. I don't know what exactly I said that was so terrible, I was just trying to be honest, but he started screaming, saying I don't love him and I don't care about him and that he's so sorry he can't fit into my little "fantasy house in the woods" and my "perfect life in suburbia" because not everyone is the same and not everyone is so cookie-cutter and didn't I know that family was messy.

Yes, family is messy, but families don't curse at each other at the top of their lungs and say hurtful things and completely disrespect each other.

I thought I had had it before, but after he screamed like that, I lost my head. I told him, without raising my voice, to call me when he grew up, to go fuck himself, and to get out of my house.

And that was that.

I'm annoyed with myself for getting that angry, for letting him push my buttons that way. I know better, I know how he is. But I felt like a line had to be drawn. I'm so tired of him, tired of his drama. Everything's a story with him, everything's a problem, no one gets him because he's so different (like tattoos and weed really make you that different), and I'm tired of hearing about it. He needs to grow up-- adults don't get so drunk the night before a flight that they puke everywhere, adults don't take that anger out on their girlfriends and their moms and sisters. He has no emotional maturity.

I should have been the mature one, I should have just let it go and not said anything. But how could I? How can anyone sit there and watch someone tear at their mother like that? I've watched it for so many years.

Mom called a minute ago. They're still in town, she and my dad and older brother. She wanted to know if I wanted to eat dinner with them, but I feigned a headache. Actually I do have a headache, but the truth is I just can't handle any more family right now. I need to recharge. If I can take anything good away from today it would be two things: I'm glad my husband wasn't here, because he would have physically kicked my brother out long before the screaming started. He doesn't stand for anyone talking like that in our house or to me. And also, little brother knows the line with me now. He knows I won't stand for that crap any more. It also made me appreciate even more the relationship I have with my husband's little brother who's recently been more of a brother to me than my own.

to kid or not to kid, and Grateful Thursday

I never played with dolls as a girl. I wasn't interested. Maybe because I had brothers, or maybe it was naturally built into my genes, somehow woven through them the inability to care about girly things. As a toddler I played make-believe offices or stores or superheroes, not mommy and babies. I had Barbies, but they saved my brother's GI Joes from impending doom. I liked She-Ra the best, The Princess of Power. She and the Barbies would gallop on My Little Ponies like Joan of Arc or Queen Elizabeth into danger, naked and fearless, to rescue the fallen soldiers from our enemies.

Later, I played sports. Softball, basketball, track. And I babysat, but I took on the kids no one else would, the wild ones that scared other babysitters away, that threw baseballs at my head and tried to smother me with pillows. I was never afraid of discipline, and I like to think that I was the only strong adult figure in those kids' lives. Maybe I brought them some kind of structure.

I recognize the fact I never had nor developed any kind of maternal instinct. I'm distant with children. I feel myself not letting go, not being comfortable, because I don't understand them. In a way, I was never a child, or at least I don't remember being a child, so it's hard for me to connect. I want them all to be little adults, not irrational, easily confused, sticky. Having a conversation with a three-year-old is tasking to me-- I get nothing out of it other than frustration. I don't think Oh, how cute. I think God, someone teach this thing how to pronunciate.

One of my friends does have a little boy with whom I have a deeper connection. As a baby, he amazed me with how quickly he took to things like blocks and shapes and colors. Unfortunately, they've raised him a bit too much in front of the tv, so now all he really seems interested in is Wubzy and Dora and Blue. He still isn't talking much. But when we babysit, I turn off the tv, and I see the wheels in his powerful little brain start turning again. I think if my kids were like that, quiet and reserved and thoughtful, I'd be fine, but you never know what you'll get. Just ask my mom.

I would be a good mother. Unconventional for sure, but I would raise intelligent, open-minded, and outspoken kids. While watching A Christmas Story last night, the scene where the kid yells fudge made me think about what I would do if a child of mine, age 9, cursed like that. I think I would laugh. They're just words. I would tell him not to use them in public because other people don't understand, but there would be no soap eating, no punishment. Other parents would hate me, wouldn't they? I am not status quo and would not raise children by the status quo.

I was struck this morning on the way to work with the thought that maybe I don't want kids because I'm not ready to grow up. I do not want to be an adult. Marriage was easy because my husband is my best friend. It's like playing house with the cute neighbor boy. Buying a house? Well, you have to live somewhere. And work? I work for the youngest company I've ever seen, my boss being a year younger than me, and we sit around in our pjs and eat sushi. It's almost like playtime in here, even when we're doing serious work.

I had a dream last night-- that's what started all this. I was tasked, in my dream, with raising a litter of puppies. But somehow in my dream they turned into a baby, and I was laying in bed on my side with a baby in the crook of my arm, staring down at this creature feeling completely out of place and scared. Sure, that's probably a natural feeling for a new mother. But I'm not ready for that, not in the least. I woke up thinking about my friends, so many of whom are pregnant right now. I had an old friend from high school friend me on facebook yesterday, and her profile picture is her in a hospital bed with a two-year-old at her feet and a newborn in her arms, her happy husband's head sticking in from the side of the frame. All I can think when I see a picture like that is How? How did we get that old? How are they ready for that? How are they ok with that picture and I'm not? What's wrong with me?

All I want to do is run away with my husband to Italy, live free and easy, never grow up because I never have to, like Peter Pan and Wendy. Am I missing out on something? Either way I guess I'm missing out. But raising children of my own, teaching and influencing them to be good people, which the world so desperately needs right now, is something I feel like I might want to do someday, I just worry I'll be too old by the time I feel old enough. And my husband may never feel old enough.

So today I'm grateful for the freedom to make this choice. Just twenty or thirty years ago, when my mom was having kids, it was still expected of every woman to bear children at some point. While still today I get some strange and quizzical looks as I announce my desire to not have children, most people have at least heard it somewhere before and even know someone who's making the same choice. Women, while we still struggle for freedom, have never been as free before as we are now.

I'm also grateful for this forum in which I can compose and organize these thoughts.

Lastly, I'm grateful for my peace of mind in knowing whatever I chose, I'll make it work. Heck, even if motherhood choses me against my will, we'll be fine. We have a strong relationship built on trust, respect, and love, so no matter what's thrown at us, we'll survive and be stronger on the return. While having a baby would change our lives forever, I know we are both the type of people that will see the good rather than the bad, and we'll turn whatever happens into a happy and fulfilling life.

your 15 second diversion for the day and Veggie Kitchen

You know, sometimes you just need to tickle a cat, and all the problems in the world just melt away.

Surprised Kitty @ Yahoo! Video

Ok, now let me wipe the tears of laughter off my face...

Because everyone either now has or is about to have family at home, and/or everyone has had or is about to have a holiday party to host or attend, I thought today I would post my favorite holiday cookie recipe. I first ran across this recipe two years ago and have made them every couple of months since then. They're not terribly bad for you, the recipe makes a LOT so you can give a lot away and still keep a few, plus they keep a long time as well. So they're pretty perfect, unless you're one of those terribly weird people who doesn't like oatmeal (like my mother).

Scarlethue's Oaty Oatmeal Cookies

1 stick of butter, softened (yes, use butter, no fake stuff)

2/3 cup brown sugar

2 cups old-fashioned oats (in the blue cylinder with the Quaker guy's face on it)

1.5 cups all purpose flour

2 eggs

1 tsp baking soda

2 tsps ground cinnamon

sprinkle of salt (little less than a tsp)

Here's where the fun starts. You can add in any combination of these things or really anything you like:

dried cranberries, chocolate chips in dark, milk, or white, macadamia nuts, raisins, chopped pecans or almonds, etc. In total you can add a cup and a half up to 2 and a half cups of these extras, in whatever combination you like.

In a bowl, cream the butter and brown sugar. Add the eggs and stir. In a separate bowl, mix together all the dry ingredients (oats, flour, baking soda, cinnamon, salt), and then slowly add the dry mix to the creamed mix a little at a time. After the two are all mixed, add in your extras. (My favorite combination is 1.5 cups dark chocolate chips and a cup of cranberries.) Drop by tablespoons onto a cookie sheet and bake at 375 degrees for 10-12 minutes. Put them on wire racks to cool.

I especially like these because of the high ratio of oats to flour. It feels more like you're eating oatmeal rather than just a basic flour cookie with some oatmeal mixed in. And I love the flexibility of the "extras." It makes this a good recipe to give to friends-- I have a friend who loves white-chocolate-macadamia-anything, and he devoured these cookies when I added those two in for him. I've also added in some honey before, and it was good but pretty sticky. I think to do that, you need to add in a bit more flour in order to balance it. Something to play with. Enjoy!

thoughts on stress

Most things I worry about never happen anyway.

This is my mantra, courtesy of Tom Petty. Sometimes it works-- sometimes it reminds me when I start to worry that most likely my fears are unfounded, most likely whatever it is that has my brain perched on the edge of a cliff over an unknown will not come to pass, and everything will be fine.

In reality, nothing bad has happened to me in several years. I would call the last "bad thing" losing my grandfather in his battle with cancer. My husband lost both his grandmothers last year, but those were his personal tragedies, not mine, and though I shared in his grief it obviously isn't the same. I've lost and left a couple jobs in that time span. I also lost out on purchasing my dream store at the last minute, and while that took me a few months to move past, now that I look back I know that it was for the best. Most things seem so small in comparison to the truly stress worthy.

So I'm trying very hard not to sweat the small stuff. My father does, boy does he ever. Last time we went to the beach together, the air conditioner in our condo broke, and while yes it was July in Florida and steamy hot like the inside of a baked potato, you would have thought someone just kicked his dog. I'm used to his outbursts, but it took my husband by surprise. My brothers are the same way, once chasing each other around the outside of the house in circles trying to punch each other on Easter Sunday. Neither can tell you now what started the brawl. You're all picturing little boys with angry, tear-stained faces pantingly trying to get the last lick, but no, they were 23 and 17 at the time.

My mother is a natural born hand-wringer-- she's never been able to put a worried thought out of her mind until she gets a resolution to a problem, and since my father sees everything as a problem, she's always had something about which to worry. She tried hard to pass this on to me. I tripped her up at the last minute, though, by marrying the most relaxed and worry free man on earth. He might as well be Jimmy Buffett, only without the parrots and faded cargo shorts. He keeps my worrying side in check, reminding me when he sees my mother start to appear inside me that everything's going to work out just fine, even singing that particular Petty song to me when I really need it. He keeps me together when life starts to fray at the edges.

Work can be particularly stressful. I think what makes it so much worse now, as work stresses in the past were something I was able to leave behind at 5 pm,is that I think of this job more as a career than just a job. I plan on working here for a long time, so when something here causes me stress, I'm more likely to worry about it since it might be around long-term. I actually care about this place and these people and our success here.

But the stress and worries that work causes me is nothing in relation to the stress real problems cause, and I must remember this. I got a reminder this morning in the form of an email from my husband's aunt. While I was panicking over a requirement my boss just asked me to fulfill, wanting to move up a deadline to a irrational and illogical date, I happened to check my personal email and read her message in order to get my mind off work for a second. It worked. My husband's cousin spouse, who has been battling brain tumors as long as even his cousin has known him, is finally being sent home to die.

Sent home to die. I remember that phrase, I remember the way that feels, helpless and angry and spiteful. How do you accept that, how do you come to terms with "nothing left to be done?" After years of remission to have it resurface, stronger this time, now after having a son as well, a son who will grow up without his father, without the larger than life man with the bosterous laugh, to never know him. The doctors told his wife to take him home, that in two weeks he won't recognize anyone anymore so gather the family quickly, and shortly after he will be gone.

I feel stupid for needing something like this to put my insignificant worries to rest this morning. I wish I could be the kind of person who always has perspective, who instantly calms a brewing storm the way my husband can.

catch up

What the heck happened to this week? I missed Wednesday and Thursday both somehow. I can't believe it's Friday already, but I'm sure not going to argue over it.

Time to play catch up.

Today is going to be a rare fish recipe, although you could really use this marinade on tofu as well, mixed with some egg or glass noodles and Asian vegetables it would be amazing. Hmm, new idea there.

Mustard Maple Salmon, by Scarlethue

4 boneless salmon fillets, about 6 oz each
2-3 tablespoons Dijon mustard (to taste)
1/4 cup maple syrup
1/4 cup canola/vegetable oil
few splashes of soy sauce (about 1-2 teaspoons to taste)
splash of either white wine vinegar or lemon juice for acidity
pepper to taste

Mix all together, pour 2/3rds over salmon and let marinade in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes. An hour is better. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Place the fish on a baking sheet, and bake for 15 minutes, checking for easy flaking and pink flesh after 10 minutes. After plating, pour reserved 1/3 marinade (the stuff that never touched the raw fish!) over cooked fish for extra flavor.

The sweet and peppery flavor here is really good on mild salmon. It might work on chicken too. I usually make either couscous, rice, or a baked potato and a mixed salad with it. I did this recipe once with about 1/4 cup of brown sugar added which made it closer to a dry rub than a marinade. It was good, but if I did it again I'd cut down just a tad on the maple syrup and up the Dijon to balance the sweetness, plus you should crisp the brown sugar crust under the broiler for a couple minutes as well. Keep a close eye on it if you do this.

1) This week is nearly over!!

2) My charitable company. Instead of buying our clients gift baskets that never get used or other silly corporate gifts, this year we "adopted" children off the Salvation Army angel tree. We will be buying presents for these kids in our clients' names and then sending the clients photos of everything we were able to buy in a Christmas card. As soon as our controller gives us the go-ahead, we're going shopping for eight girls between the ages of 9 and 12 all at once. We picked the older ones because they always get forgotten. It will be fun!

3) Cold weather. I was feeling rather bah, humbug, about Christmas, but the 44 degree high today is kick-starting my holiday spirit. I do, unfortunately, need to go shopping soon, very soon. I hate fighting the crowds. But at least I now have everyone's lists.

So there's two days' posts wrapped up into a very quick one. Tomorrow I'm probably going to a friend's child's birthday party, for which I also need to buy a present, but I have no plans for Sunday, thank goodness. I hopefully will be able to catch up on some blog reading then.

three silver linings

1) My older brother is coming to visit, unexpectedly.

I already knew my little brother was coming, with his girlfriend, for a pre-Christmas visit as it's so expensive to fly around Christmas itself. He'll be staying with my parents for a few days, taking his girlfriend down to New Orleans, introducing her to Southern food and his wild friends, then he'll head up my way and stay with me a couple nights before moving on to her family's home for the remainder of their vacation. I was looking forward to a couple days with him-- I haven't seen him since last Christmas, and I'd like to get to know this girl who seems to have stolen my loner little brother's heart.

Now, the older is thrown into the mix. Broken up with his finance who just took her stuff and moved out yesterday, he's more despondent and pathetic than usual. I have a hard enough time staying sane on a twenty minute phone conversation with him, much less actual person-to-person interaction. He won't be staying in my house though, thankfully, but because he has no job and because she took the majority of the furniture and accessories in his apartment, he has no reason to return any time soon. My mom thinks he'll go back when little brother goes back, but who knows. A condition of his returning home was that he sees a local doctor and gets an antidepressant prescription  for the depression he's tried to "handle" on his own his whole life (until now he had been adamant that he would not medicate himself) so hopefully that's the silver lining I'm trying so hard to see here.

2) I had to fire someone yesterday.

I hired him about six weeks ago to be our flash animator and work from home, and in that time he's promised a ton of work and delivered very little. At first we chalked it up to his creative, artistic personality, that he just needed to be coddled and stroked a bit and then his genius would prove itself. After a while we started to realize that not much of his work was being done, and what was done wasn't on time, so we assigned a manager to watch him and his work as closely as he could. It didn't help, and it drove the manager crazy trying to find him all the time. Both Monday and Tuesday this week we called and called, trying to get him on the phone, but finally last night I had to send an email. I suppose I had it easy that way, since there was no face to face meeting, but it was still terrible. He emailed me right back saying he understood. It's like he wanted us to fire him.

That was my first firing and hopefully will be my only one for a long, long time. I guess he made it easy on me, so there's my slightly tarnished silver lining.

3) A coworker nearly got scammed by a fake homeowner.

She's been looking for a home to rent for herself and her three little girls. She's going through a divorce, so she needs to move quickly and stay in the county school district. It hasn't been an easy search. There was the cute little cabin next to a field of run down trailers, a nice house but right on the highway with no yard and no place for the 4 year old to play, and now this.

It's a beautiful house in a friendly neighborhood-- they even have a community pool. The advertiser told my coworker that he was a pastor on a mission trip to West Africa, and he needed someone to watch his house and yard while he was gone. He wanted someone he could trust, so he sent her a homemade application with strange questions like "Do you promise to take care of the yard," and "Have you ever been in trouble with the police," all written with poor grammar and spelling. Her second clue was that he kept putting off her specific questions, especially when she asked about getting access to the house (she had already peeked through the dark windows) and about a lease to sign.

Finally, last night when he asked her to wire money through Western Union to Africa before she had even seen a lease or the inside of the house, she knew something was up. To trip him up, she asked him through email if the red electrical box on the front of the house controlled an invisible fence, knowing from experience that invisible fence boxes are always placed inside the house and are usually black, not to mention there was no red box on the front of the house. When he said, "yes," she had him. Today she called the police and the neighborhood homeowners association who told her that someone lives in that house, and they already knew about the scam. They thanked her for forwarding her emails from him and the original ad.

We live in a very small and trusting town. Everyone knows just about everyone, or at least they know each others' faces. Things like this just don't happen in places like this, or at least they didn't used to.

She's out right now looking at two more houses, one pretty far away but owned by a nice old lady, and the other in a picturesque neighborhood of large condos practically within walking distance of the office. Hopefully one of those options will work, and she'll find her little silver lining as well, shining bright in all the darkness she's had to combat in the past few weeks.

say cheese

Last night as I was laying in bed, waiting for sleep to fall as heavily over me as my thick blue quilt had, I was considering life without photography.

Big deal, right? Of what do I ever take pictures that matters, that really matters... not those half eaten pieces of pie at the end of a fancy meal, not interesting ceilings in accidentally visited houses or random birds visiting my porch, not even candid moments or impromptu get-togethers with friends whose faces I see every day. Those pictures, once taken, are never looked at again. Not really, anyway, unless a particularly special person or moment is captured. The problem is that you don't know when you're taking the photos which will turn out to be treasured and which will just go in a file on the desktop under the name "random photos."

I have a picture of my grandfather that I cherish. I don't have the negative, so you can bet if my house caught on fire, I'd have Bub under one arm and that picture frame in the other. (My husband can handle the cat.) I was five, it was my fifth birthday party, and he's reaching over me, bending down and grabbing my knees to tickle me. He used to tickle me all the time, chase me, and grab at my knees, calling it "how a mule eats corn." When I got older, it turned into a poke in the ribs. He was so tall, 6'4" at least, and you can tell in this picture. You can still see some youth in his face, his already balding head still brown-black and not yet gray, his arms and hands strong and muscular, like those of a man who did everything for himself.

My memory is spotty, as I've said before, so this photo of him means the world to me. There are others of him, of course, but this is the two of us together doing something that only the two of us did. The casual laugh on his face and the squeal of both delight and terror on mine embody everything we were to each other-- he adored me, and I revered him.

What would life have been like before photography? You'd never know what you looked like as a child. If you were like me and forget faces, you wouldn't remember your loved ones faces after they'd gone, and you wouldn't remember the faces of your children after they'd grown. When you met your future spouse, you wouldn't know what they were like as a child and hence what your children could possibly look like, like the white-blond toddler hair of my brunette husband. I didn't believe him until he showed me the photo. There would be no record of your face after you were gone, and probably very little record of your life. Yes, there were paintings, but only the rich had those, and they're usually a poor imitation of reality. All sense of the past would be fleeting and changeable, moldable like wet clay under time's hands. You'd have no record of past events, all you'd have is your memory, and for those of us who rely so heavily on pictures now (all of us), we'd find that very difficult.

In the early days of photography, when you got one, maybe two, pictures of yourself total in your lifetime-- can you imagine that pressure? Blink or smirk when that powder ignites and you're blinking or smirking for eternity. No one would ever remember you looked any different.

My grandmother had a little sister die of cholera, I believe, at a very young age. The only photo they have of her is after she's already passed, being held up by my grandmother and her little brother. My great-grandmother had a large version, a foot tall at least, of this photo hanging in her hall, but I didn't know until I was 15 or so that my great-aunt was dead in it. Terrible-- I can't imagine being my great-grandmother and walking past this every day knowing this was the only way I'd see my child for the rest of my life. These days, by age three there's so many photos of most children you'd think they're all celebrities. I get emails and facebook updates daily with new photos of my friends and their kids, even videos from France and snapshots from London and Vienna.

All this was going through my mind as I tried to find sleep last night, leading me into dreams I can no longer remember. Maybe one day they'll make some sort of an internal mind camera. Then I could record everything I see, in front of or behind my eyes. You never know-- it was just a hundred and fifty or so years ago that modern photography began.

birthdays and holidays...

My husband's mother usually wakes us up at 7:13 a.m. on his birthday, as he happened to pop out into the world at that moment 32 years ago this past Wednesday. But this year, for some reason, she let us sleep. She didn't call until nearly dinner time. He was hoping that maybe she had forgotten so that he could tease her (and hold it against her) for the rest of her life, but no such luck. They have an odd relationship. His parents divorced when he was three after she cheated on his dad, and he didn't know the truth until he was 18, after he lived about 4 of his middle to high school years with her in her new home in Illinois so she didn't have to move alone. He felt betrayed. He claims to be over it now, but I know from our first year of dating when he was 25 that he had trust issues with women even then. I think our strong relationship has pushed him past most of it, but there still is and always will be an undercurrent of tension between the two of them. They don't speak about it, they love each other, and they're pleasant with each other, but she will never be the type of mother that he calls for no reason or hugs for longer than 3 seconds.

Family dynamics vary so greatly from household to household. Everyone has a different story; even people who grew up in the same house with the same family can have different versions of what happened, didn't happen, and why. My brothers and I are a good example of this, as I've laid out before (mostly here last January, but also here in April and here in May about my older brother specifically). Raised by the same parents, only six years between the oldest and the youngest, it amazes me how disparate we are from each other and how our stories vary as well.

My husband's family, or families I should say, are completely different from each other and completely different from mine. Thanksgiving is spent with his immediate family-- dad, step-mom, sister and brother-in-law, and little brother-- but also his step-mom's family including her sister, her sister's adult children, their kids and various girlfriends and/or friends. I remarked to my husband how sad I thought it was that this would be my fifth Thanksgiving at that house and I only half-way knew some of their names. He replied that he didn't know them either. They sit at one end of the table, us at the other. We see his sister so rarely that we tend to talk just to her, their little brother, and their parents. And his step-mother's family is... well... we'll put it this way: this year we were greeted with one of his step-mom's nephews, his new (pregnant by him) girlfriend, and her two-year-old daughter (by someone else), all of whom are now living with his grandmother (my husband's step-mom's sister).

This never would have happened in my house. Not that this is uncommon for the South, or for America in general, to have barely legal kids getting each other pregnant. But in my house, holidays were formal. You didn't bring extraneous guests, like the two high-school boys who brought their girlfriends unannounced, both of whom sat tight-lipped, talking only to their beaus, picking at their turkey like if they ate it they would A) blow up like a 300-pound balloon or B) show some kind of interest in something other than rubbing up against the boy when the parents weren't looking. You definitely didn't show up in camo straight from the deer camp, and you definitely didn't announce to the table that your girlfriend was pregnant. And to get the reaction that he got-- "congratulations" to a 20-year-old who's not married and living with his mom?

We ate quickly, thanked his step-mom profusely, grabbed his sister, brother-in-law, and brother, and left for our house. His brother brought Rock Band over and we played for hours, drinking beer and blowing off steam.

It was nice to have two days off in a row like that with my husband. His birthday, Wednesday, was all his. I told him we'd do whatever he wanted, whether that was drive to Memphis and go shopping or to Beale Street all day, or sit on the couch and nap. He picked something in the middle-- we started with donuts for breakfast, then walked around our town square, window shopping and greeting friends who work nearby. We then ate at an awesome plate-lunch place on the square. Afterwards we came home so he could nap off his macaroni and cheese and zucchinin onion stew. For dinner we went to a fine dining place so he could get a steak, then we met his brother at our favorite bar and laughed and tasted odd beers all night. I had some fun playing with my camera taking pictures of the bar. He seemed very happy with the day, done his way, and with the couple shirts and argyle socks I got him as well.

Having all these days off has really messed up my schedule. I hardly know if it's Thursday or Sunday. Going back to work on Monday is going to be hard.

Grateful Thanksgiving Thursday

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you're all having a warm, comfortable, and content day with family, friends, and other loved ones around a table of yummy food.

I went ahead and wrote this earlier this week to automatically post today as I'm busy with cooking and my family. I'll regale you with stories of my husband's birthday celebration and my crazy in-laws tomorrow.

As I said yesterday, since I do a "grateful" post every Thursday, Thanksgiving seems like it comes every week for me (except for all the carbo-loading I'm about to do). I believe that counting my blessings has made a huge difference in my attitude about life-- now when "bad" things happen, I laugh, I see that silver lining first, popping out at me like it's glinting in the sun, and I'm able to flip the bad around on itself much easier now because I know that in spite of any negatives, I live a very blessed and happy life.

So here's my list for this first Grateful Thanksgiving Thursday:

1) Living in a country where we take a day to count our blessings. Although there are many of us here who don't fully appreciate the spirit of this day, I think the majority do take at least a minute to look around the table and think about how much each person means to them, about the food in front of them and the hard work it took both to provide and cook that food, about the roof over their heads and the clothes on their back, and feel grateful for it all. There are a lot of countries that are not so fortunate as ours, and there are a lot of people in the world who will never know the bounty that we all experience not just on Thanksgiving but on every day of our lives.

2) My parents. I'm not spending today with my family-- my parents have gone north to visit my dad's mom and sister since my grandmother can no longer drive, so I'm missing them today. As usual, though, I feel so grateful and blessed to have such wonderful parents. They continue to take wonderful care of me, and I'm happy to count them as true friends as well.

3) Stability. Despite the economy, despite what life tries to throw at me, my husband and I have a rock solid foundation, and we remain financially secure as well. I do not take this for granted, not now or ever.

4) Fall leaves. There's all kinds of orange, maroon, red, yellow, and even purple outside my window. Although Spring is my favorite season, Fall comes in as a close second. The crisp chill in the air feels rejuvenating.

5) A few days off. I took Wednesday off for my husband's birthday, plus Thursday and Friday are paid holidays, leading nicely into a weekend, giving me five days off in a row. The industry in which I work pretty much goes to sleep between Thanksgiving and the beginning of January as well, so I've got a good month here to catch up on internal work.

6) A good night with my husband's sister, her husband, and my husband's little brother. Although his little brother lives here and we spend a lot of time with him (he's just now 21, I've known him since he was 15) I hardly ever get to spend time with his sister. They're spending the night with us since they now live too far away to make this a day trip, and we'll be playing our Wii, digging out some board games, and drinking a couple bottles of Beaujolais Nouveau. I'm looking forward to getting to know her without parents around.

Our world can be such a bitter, sarcastic place. I'm happy to have an outlet for my positivity here on my blog. Even though I try to be joyful in everything I do, it's hard not to get bogged down in the mundane details of life. But instead of stumbling and crawling unhappily through the mud, I'm going to chose every day to run, jumping from puddle to puddle, laughing and splashing. Life may be messy, but I'm going to enjoy every bit of the mess.

Veggie Kitchen Wednesday

Ah, Thanksgiving. Considering I spend a lot of my time, especially here on my blog, counting my many blessings, Thanksgiving seems like every Thursday to me and like a natural reason for a holiday. I'm looking forward to all that good food tomorrow and am planning on eating myself silly, courtesy of my step-mother-in-law, one of the best Southern comfort food chefs around.

In honor of that and of my husband's birthday today, I present to you one of his favorite foods, a Thanksgiving tradition here in the deep South, and a dish I could eat every day if it weren't so darned bad for you.

Scarlethue's Momma's Sweet Potato Casserole
serves 4-10 (4 if you're like me and could eat this for a meal by itself. But it's usually more like 8-10 servings)

5 or so large sweet potatoes
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 tsps ground cinnamon
1/4 cup butter, melted
2 eggs, beaten
1 10 oz. bag mini marshmallows (vegetarian ones, as in no gelatin, usually in the organic section)
2 tablespoons orange juice (optional. some people like it and some don't. gives it a citrus kick)
1/4 to 1/2 cup milk (optional. this makes it creamier, like creamed potatoes instead of just mashed. I would do either the orange juice or milk, but not both)

Peel and cut up the sweet potatoes. Boil them until tender, then drain. Mash the potatoes until there are no lumps, then add the melted butter, sugar, vanilla, cinnamon, and orange juice or milk if you want those. Spread the potato mixture evenly in a casserole dish, and dump the marshmallows fairly evenly over the top (the more, the merrier). Bake at 350 degrees until the marshmallows are bubbly and just beginning to brown.

Some people do a maple pecan topping on their casserole, but I love the creamy sweetness of the potatoes with the gooey sweetness of the marshmallows. No crunch needed here.

This along with dressing, made with vegetable broth, brocolli rice casserole, creamed corn, cranberry sauce (from a can, got to have the ridges, and yes you can find this without gelatin too), and some buttery rolls make for one mean vegetarian Thanksgiving dinner. I never miss the (usually dry, coma-inducing) turkey.

Plus the chocolate pie and pumpkin pie and pecan pie (pronounced pe-CAHN, not PE-can, thank you and welcome to the South), and my husband's birthday red velvet cake for dessert?

I am ready to eat!

two cents' worth

I love to read the "Dear Prudence" columns on Slate (you can see the most recent ones here and here), written by Emily Yoffe. Occasionally the questions are sad, heart-wrenching, the kind of family or personal drama that no one wants to find themselves in, dealing with death or violence or other terrible situations. Occasionally the questions are thought-provoking, the sort of spots we all find ourselves in now or then, with elaborate or delicate etiquette implications.

And occasionally they're just funny. A minister who doesn't like his parishioners' dogs, a boyfriend who doesn't brush his teeth, a fiancee who doesn't want to sit in her future-in-laws' family Christmas card portrait because she wants her own tradition, a woman with so much plastic surgery she thinks she's too perfect... who couldn't see the humor here? What's better is Prudence's biting humor, often poking fun at or even completely deriding the letter writer. She, for instance, informed the fiancee that after refusing to strike a pose, her new family "will be filled with seasonal joy that you'll be around for the holidays for the rest of their lives." And she told the would-be Barbie that after being "cut and sucked and stuffed head to toe" she can't possibly look natural anymore and should stop worrying and find a therapist.

But among her hilarious puns and one-liners, she gives fantastic advice. Really logical, thought-out, and correct instructions for people in all kinds of situations, from an abusive spouse to a dog that won't quit peeing on the wall. This is really why I read her column; the humor is just an added bonus.

I wish I could give advice like that. I've got the sarcasm and amused snorts down for those with the weird or silly problems, but I'd love to have the ability to produce concise and accurate advice for those with more serious problems. I think I just like to help, to be of some use.

I can't think of a time when someone really wowed me with advice given to me. Or is it that I'm so stuck in my ways I wouldn't recognize it even if it reached out and slapped me in the face and said, "hey, I'm good advice, take me!" I did have a friend tell me once that I was dating the wrong guy, and she was right, but it was probably pretty obvious to anyone who knew both of us. And fellow bloggers often point out things I hadn't yet considered, but the blog world is different as I'm much more open here. I think I'm probably just one of those people that hides my insecurities and puts on such a steely facade that no one thinks I need advice. Or at least I hope so?

Anyway, what's the last great advice you've given, received, or heard?

Grateful Thursday

1) Busy days at work. They make the day go by so much faster, and I feel like I'm getting good work done lately. I had no time today to post and now that I'm home, with a full belly, in front of the tv in my pajamas with my husband on one side and my dog on the other, I'm too zoned out to make too much sense out of this post.
2) A full belly, being finally in front of the tv in my pajamas with my husband on one side and my dog on the other.
3) Bub had his vet appointment today to see why he's been yelping lately. The verdict? Gas. Yep, gas. We thought  maybe it was his knee again (his patella was shifting and he's had surgery once already) or arthritis setting in, but the vet played with both his back legs and his hips and they're fine. He jumped when he massaged his stomach, though, so they did an x-ray that showed nothing other than he's gassy. So they told me no more human food and to give him a spoonful of plain yogurt every day for a couple weeks. Apparently older doggies can't eat what young doggies can, just like humans.
4) A good weekend ahead. We've got a party tomorrow night (I'm taking brownies, that would be 4.5), a game to go to on Saturday with lots of old friends in town, and a baby shower on Sunday for a good friend with a quiet afternoon afterwards.
5) Vacation! I'm only working Monday and Tuesday next week, and since the boss is on vacation as well, it should be pretty quiet and I'll be able to catch up on things plus get a head start on planning our Christmas party. Then Wednesday is my husband's birthday and Thursday I'm going to eat myself silly.

Veggie Kitchen Wednesday

I've been thinking a while about doing this, creating another "day," this one dedicated to recipes and vegetarian cooking (although there will probably be some fish thrown in every now and then). This is as much for me as for anyone else as I tend to forget recipes-- it doesn't help that I never write them down.

As a cook, I dedicate any creativity or spunk I have in the kitchen to both my great-grandmother and my father. My great-grandmother, who lived to be nearly 98, was an inspired cook. On special days she would whip up a roast, biscuits from scratch, creamed corn (that she grew), lima beans (ditto), stewed tomatoes, and at least two or three cakes and pies including fresh strawberry cake, caramel cake, lemon pie, and chocolate pie, all from scratch. Keep in mind she was doing this in my lifetime, and she was already 82 when I was born. She never measured a thing, not even when baking, pouring and seasoning just by memory and instinct.

My father's cooking style is very creative. He picked up that no-measuring thing from his grandmother, having watched her cook for the 50 years he had her in his life. But nothing scares him-- his philosophy is that if it ends up not tasting good, there's a pizza place down the street. And he never apologizes for his mistakes in the kitchen, something he says he learned from Julia Child. Unfortunately he can't seem to ever make the same thing twice, but that just forces you to remember to savor each bite of something wonderful as if it was your last.

Since it's finally cold here, at a chilly 52 outside today, I decided I'd start this off with my potato chowder recipe. I, like my father and his grandmother before him, don't measure. I guesstimate. I've never made a recipe exactly as it's stated-- I take it and twist it up, substitute, strip it down to its bare bones and redress. Recipes are just inspiration for me; at the most they are vague guidelines. This original recipe started out with boxed potato flakes and no other vegetables, but I've turned it into a combination of potato soup and corn chowder. I encourage you to take this as inspiration and make it your own!


Scarlethue's Potato Chowder
serves 4 as a meal, 6-8 as a side/appetizer (I always make too much so I have leftovers)

5-6 good size yukon gold potatoes (if you get big ones, go for 5, otherwise 6 is better. can't really have too much), chopped small
1/2 cup frozen yellow corn kernels
1/3 cup shredded carrot
1/2 white or yellow onion, chopped finely
1/3 cup finely chopped celery (sometimes I add this, sometimes I don't)
10.5 ounces of vegetable broth (use the best stuff you can find, organic is better to skip the MSG)
1.5 cups water
1/4 to 1/3 cup half and half (based on preference. You could use cream)

Put the potatoes, corn, carrots, celery, and onion in a large saucepan, and pour over the broth and water so that the veggies are just covered (add more broth/water mix if you went overboard on potatoes). Cover the pot and simmer on medium for about 35-45 minutes until the potatoes are soft. Get out your potato masher and start smooshing up the potatoes right in the same pot. This is what makes it more like chowder and less like chunky soup, but hey if you like chunks, leave this step out. Once you've got it significantly mashed, pour in the half and half, stir and heat through another 5 minutes. Serve with crusty bread or biscuits. It's very filling!

While writing this I just thought about adding leeks instead of celery.... Let your veggie imagination run wild!