Do you hide vegetables in food? I have over the years.
Shredded carrots go into my spaghetti sauce.
Shredded zucchini or summer squash are a part of my meatloaf.
Pureed butternut squash is a major player in my lasagna.
Instead of plain mashed potatoes I use one large potato, ¼ of a head of cauliflower and one large turnip.
Every single one gets rave reviews by family and friends alike.
I make the best ground turkey veggie soup. I get requests for it. I’ll put my recipe here for you. It is super yummy. You’ll love it. (I hope.)
One of my secrets is that I make homemade broth. Here is how I do that. Continue reading
I like having things clean. I like tidy. But I am not one of those folks who lives to clean. I don’t get my joy and peace in my heart from the actual act of cleaning. I don’t necessarily mind it (sometimes), but I don’t have it as my go-to activity.
My mother and my youngest daughter, on the other hand, love to clean. I mean L-O-V-E to clean. Apparently it skipped right over me. My younger sister doesn’t necessarily live to clean, but she gets a kick out of it way more than me. And when she is stressed out, she cleans. Me? Not my stress relief. Or any other relief for that matter. I wish it had skipped my sister, too, because then I could say it just skipped my generation. But, no, it seems to have just skipped me.
I wonder which is my pantry cabinet and which is my mother’s??
There is a spot for every type of personality. Every single one. There’s a spot for you. (Do you love Big Bang Theory? You know, Sheldon has a spot.) Whether you feel like you have a “spot” or a purpose … you do.
Do you, at times, feel like you are sitting in someone else’s chair? Perhaps you don’t think you are entitled to sit in the cool chair you have been given. But you are. Why not you? That chair can be for you!
One way to make your life easier is to stop trying to fit into someone else’s chair. And don’t make someone fit a seat that you choose for them instead of allowing them to sit in the seat they were made to sit in. If you aren’t sure of your spot, start by believing there is a spot that is just for you. Because there is. Believe it!
It really doesn’t matter if something is hard. Does it? It just means it is difficult; not impossible. While this may seem unrelated to that statement, it isn’t:
I would like to share with you my best grain free muffin recipe.
Chocolate chip pumpkin muffins
The best grain free muffin ever. And I make them every single week. My husband cannot function without his muffins. It reminds me of our fat cat, Howard. (My husband is not fat. Just the cat.) Continue reading
What a waste of time it is to try to emulate someone else, another’s gifting, someone’s style — A complete and utter waste.
Don’t do it.
While trying to copy someone’s style of writing, painting, singing — whatever — you are not growing in your own unique gifting.
You are literally wasting time.
When you finally realize that you will NEVER be that other person, you have to start from where you left off.
Wasted time. It is shocking that so many people get caught in this trap!
Don’t do it.
Spend your hours and days being you. Developing you. Growing into the best you.
I know it’s been said a bazillion times before. But I join my voice in the chorus. Continue reading
I sat on the floor at the Las Vegas airport near the only outlet I could find. People were lined up to my left, on my right was a post that provided me a little back support. I tried to keep my feet tucked in and not get trampled as travelers rushed to their gates or to the slot machines located very near my spot.
Most airports have charging stations. My sister and I traveled together just three months ago. We met in Dallas, sat at a charging station and got caught up on life happenings. No charging stations here. I suspect they want people to take advantage of the slot machines. That makes sense. Continue reading
This is my mom, Sue, and her dog, Joey. I can talk about how therapeutic a pet can be until I am blue in the face; but this picture alone is worth 2,000 words (I am counting 1,000 per character in the photo).
My mom had lost her little red-headed poodle named Zoe. Her heart was broken. Zoe was the last dog in a long line of dogs through my mom’s life. We had dogs all the while I was growing up: cockapoo, mutt, another mutt, little pug-style mutt, German shepherd. And she had two Lhasa Apsos before the red-headed poodle. Continue reading
I haven’t traveled as much as I would like, but I have been to 40 of the 50 states and two other countries. I know … I need to work on that. And I plan to do just that.
Even so; I absolutely love to travel. I love meeting new people, trying new food, seeing new sights, enjoying different foliage and climates. I love it. Every bit of it.
We moved a lot when I was growing up. I didn’t establish any long-term friendships. That did not keep me from having friend therapy wherever we were. As often as possible. Driving my mother crazy. Repeatedly.
As an adult, we have stayed put (perhaps for too long), and I have friendships that track back for decades.
There are few substitutes for the uplift of a group of fun-loving, kind and supportive friends. Laughing together. Crying together. Sharing life together. (I know I talked about that in this post.)
So often, however, when people are down or struggling or depressed; they hole themselves up. Alone. I think that is a dreadful trick of the enemy. Because we are supposed to share life. And sharing life can perk you up in ways nothing else can.
I am such an avid knitter that it should be included on my About Me page. Perhaps I’ll edit that soon. I learned to knit when I was 8 years old. My aunt taught me. Aunt Jean was a purposeful lady. If she thought a thing should be done, it would be done. She was a no nonsense lady, too. Got a job? Tackle it and get on with it.
Her grandchildren called her Heidi. Her name wasn’t Heidi, it was Jean. But they called her Heidi because every time she went to see them or vice versa she would greet them with a rambunctious “Hidy!!” So that’s what they called her. I thought that was adorable. My grandkids call me Grammie or Nana. Not as exciting as “Hidy” now that I think about it. I love hearing “Nana!” just the same. Continue reading