Month: March 2018

Cottage Tot Pie

Let me start with saying I love a good traditional Cottage Pie. I love Shepherd’s Pie. I love meat and mashed potatoes and gravy… which is kind of what shepherd’s pie is, but constructed and upside down. I am all for whipping up mashed potatoes to top a pie… I’ve done it and I’ll do it again. But I am a busy mom! And if I’m honest about it, most nights of the week if I’m going to whip up some potatoes, it’s because it’s a side dish- not an extra step toward accomplishing dinner. I’m also a child of the frozen food era. And I am not too proud to admit that a tater tot baked and salted to crispy perfection is delicious. Of course, in this case I can also boast (like I really care), that it’s baked not fried. However, if I wanted to get really honest, a deep fried tater tot is sublime. If I could figure out a way to deep fry this whole dish I probably would. But if I had time to shred the potatoes for an awesome crust that I stuffed with this seasoned beef filling to deep fry, then surely I would have had the time to whip up a mashed potato topper. Right? So, when you want all the taste without the extra steps… this is the bomb. #momwin

As organic as possible:

1 Tbsp Olive Oil

1 Onion, diced

1 Celery stalk, diced small

1 lb ground Beef (or Lamb, but then you need to call it Shepherd Tot Pie)

1 tsp Salt, to taste

1/2 tsp Pepper, to taste

1 Tbsp Butter

2 Tbsp Flour

1½ Tbsp Worcestershire sauce

1 cup Peas, frozen or fresh

1 cup Corn, frozen or fresh

1-1½ cups Beef stock

2lbs or 24 oz. (approx) Seasoned Tater Tots, frozen (I like Alexa)

Heat the over medium high until hot. Add the diced onion and celery. (And if you’d like a little diced carrot to make it a true trinity… but if your kids are like mine, leave the orange vegetable out.) I only like to cook it for a minute before I add the ground beef, because it’s going to get baked and I like to try and have some texture.

Add the beef, salt and pepper. Cook until just browned. (And if it’s just slightly pink, it’s ok. It will continue to cook and better that it’s not overdone.) Strain all but about a tablespoon of the fat into a safe hot fat catching container. Add the tablespoon of butter.

When it’s melted, give it a little swirl around the pan and add the 2 tablespoons of flour.

Let the flour cook in the meat, onion and celery mixture for a couple minutes. Add the Worcestershire sauce and 1 cup beef stock. Let cook for a few minutes, until sauce starts to thicken, if too thick add remaining 1/2 cup of stock. Add the peas and corn. Give the whole mix a stir and take it off of the heat.

I have a 1¾ quart dish that is perfect for this recipe, however a 2 qt dish will do. Pour the meat and veggie mixture into the dish in an even layer. Then lovingly place the tater tots in calculated rows (or completely abstract) in a single layer on top of the meat mix.

Bake for 30-35 minutes until the tots are golden brown and crisp.

Let stand a couple minutes to cool After gravy stops bubbling, serve warm… and with ketchup if you’d like, because it’s tasty.

 

 

 

 

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A Father’s Dance

He is there almost every week. He is there to watch her through the window. And we all stand outside, him, the mother, the new girlfriend and me. We are there in the crowded hallway peering through the glass with the other mothers and occasional grandmother. And I know he works hard, I can tell by the dirt on his work clothes and boots- and the expression on his simultaneously youthful and worn face. By the logo on his regularly adorned hooded sweatshirt, I know he must be in the excavating business. This week the mother wasn’t there. The dad and girlfriend brought the little girl to class. They had arrived early and so had we. I heard the girlfriend ask the little girl about the sick mother while the dad spent at least five minutes in the bathroom washing the day’s work off of his hands. After he came out, he showed his hands to the girlfriend with an expression of satisfaction, and asked if they looked better. Meanwhile, the little girl sat on the floor clumsily removing her clunky snow boots to put on her delicate ballet shoes. And he warned her while she wrestled with her big boots, not to let her leg touch his pants; that they would definitely get dirty. But she did knick the knee of her pale pink tights on on the dusty shin of his work pants. As foretold, it left a mark which the girlfriend quickly and attentively tried to pat away. “Those are going to have to take a bath,” he said making light of the situation. And his daughter reassured him that she has two more pair at home. Often his speech is course in the hallway, not vulgar- but as to reflect a life hard earned. Yet, he is gentle with her. It is clear she is his treasure. When our daughters enter the classroom, he doesn’t leave the window. The conversation behind the glass with the girlfriend is peppered with the facts of daily life; like, he is going to have to drive to Flat Rock next week. And I don’t say anything- that I know that area well because I grew up near there and have a lot of family downriver Detroit. But I understand that it means he is going to have to drive over an hour each way to work. I can hear the disappointment in the girlfriend’s short response, to which he matter of factly replies that “It’s work,” and he encourages her that the ground is thawing. “They are saying it could be thawed by April 15th.” And I know he needs the work by the way he talks. I have no idea of his hardships or even lack thereof. I assume, on top of the cost of living, he must help pay for ballet lessons and probably child support. She understands and says that she only has two days of work this week, but next week was going to have overtime. Yet, he never loses focus on the reason he is here, and remarks that his daughter is improving. He notices that she is more coordinated and shares that information with the girlfriend in a coinciding understated and proud way. And they discuss where they will eat afterwards, because neither them has eaten dinner yet- clearly this is their priority. He excuses himself briefly to the vending machine and they share a couple Starbursts to tide them over. The girlfriend states that she wants the pink one. But he tells her “No, it’s her favorite,” and pockets it until the little girl comes out of class. While she sits on the floor replacing her dance shoes again with the oversized boots, he asks her if she would like the candy. She raises her arms toward him with excitement at the little surprise. “What do you say?”, he naturally prompts her.
“Please!” she says loudly. The father gives it to her, his love and the candy. It’s beautiful to watch as he smiles at her assuringly. And I believe it is all going to be okay, as he confidently takes the lead.

Loving Lately

I’d like to tell you I’m loving decorating my spring-themed porch. Hahaha. I’m more like loving sarcasm. I can’t put flowers out on my porch. They would freeze- not just in the temperature dropping night, all day long. I could put out fake flowers. Of course everyone would know they must be fake. (Not like the fantastic blooms above from @misskatyenglish)

But looking at porch ideas got me kind of excited about flowers… just pretty pictures of random bouquets. They’re inspiring.

Courtesy of Pinterest

Yet, in this progression, somehow my inspiration always comes back to food and drink. Always. I was (slightly) surprised to see that the last 4 pins for my “Inspiration” board on Pinterest actually contained coffee or food or both.

Courtesy of @mezanin

Apparently that’s where my heart lies. Because I start with nature… then I just totally drift back to food. I mean, c’mon… these pies are as pretty as a bouquet of flowers. Come to think of it, I don’t know if they really are pies… or flowers? And I honestly don’t know which one I would be more excited about being surprised with.

Yes I do. Give me the pies. Are they pies?

Courtesy of Vue » Portfolio – Debby Lewis-Harrison

People keep crossing the lines of food and art. And I’m down. But I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes I get confused. Like this season: Is it winter? Is it spring? We’ve got these beautiful breakfast egg tarts. They are so whimsy… in a rustic setting surrounded with herbs, egg shells, kitchen utensils, an apron, pine cones… Pine cones? Are they pine flavored? Are we supposed to eat the pine cones? Because I will. Just kidding- no I won’t. But I still like this picture.

Courtesy of Fotogrammi di zucchero

But I’m not just all about the food this spring. I mean yes, it is too cold to go outside. So, I spend a good portion of my time in the kitchen. Which means I probably need to spruce it up- give it a little spring makeover. Therefore logic says I should get a new copper hood for my stovetop.

Courtesy of baltimoreathome.com

It makes sense, as long as you don’t think about it very hard. But really, does copper say spring? Because, I’m feeling it.

Courtesy of @mademoisellepoirot

Is it more spring-ish if it’s used for a bouquet?

Courtesy of Pinterest

Okay, it’s possible I’m getting off track. Basically what I am saying is this: I’d like to be outside, decorating my house, but I’m not. The next best thing would likely be to brighten my day with a fresh bouquet.

courtesy of GREY AND SCOUT

However in reality, I’d be more apt to make a bouquet of Rainbow Roll-Ups with Peanut Sauce.

Courtesy of Pinch of Yum

And until it gets a little warmer out there… I’ll be keeping it real over here, dreaming about the possibility of spring and touches of copper while I eat and drink.

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Kawasaki’s Disease

I had already rescheduled the dentist appointments for my two oldest children, I didn’t want to miss them again. My parents had offered to come and sit with my other two kids for the afternoon, so keeping the appointments wouldn’t be a problem. All was going according to plan- except that the baby had been running a fever for the last 48 hours. This being my fourth child, I’m accustomed to the occasional viruses. Still, the fever was persistent- reaching over 104° and even remaining at around 102° after a dose of Tylenol. The day before, I had started alternating with Motrin and Tylenol to try and keep it under control. My concern started to grow when I realized that after taking the Motrin, Noah was consistently breaking out into hives. If you have followed my blog for any length of time, you know that allergic reactions are very common with him  (Allergy Induced Eczema). But this was new, he had taken Motrin before without a problem. What a terrible time to develop a new allergy! However, understanding that even the color of the dye could have triggered a reaction, I had asked my husband to bring home something other than the orange colored Motrin we were using on his way home from work. But the new purple color didn’t seem to be any better as I noticed new hives on his cheek and legs within 10 minutes of the dose… yet, in spite of the hives, the Motrin seemed to be the only thing that was keeping his fever down. And now, on top of everything else, it appeared that he was getting pinkeye… and one side of the back of his neck was really swollen. So, while I stayed home that night with the other children, my husband took Noah on an evening trip to the local urgent care.

While at urgent care, Noah tested negative for strep throat, but due to the nagging fever and swollen lymph node on his neck, the doctor treated him for it anyway- assuming it would show up positive in the lab where they would be sending it out. He prescribed him an antibiotic and sent him home. Having an answer and medication obviously gave me peace of mind and I thought surely by the time the dentist appointments came rolling around the next afternoon, he would be feeling better. But when my parents arrived he wasn’t improving. He was lethargic and miserable. His eyes were extremely red, his swollen lymph node was getting bigger. He had thrown up his antibiotic and later his Tylenol. I called his pediatrician to let them know what was going on and to ask if I could try aspirin for the fever, since he was clearly having allergic reactions to the Motrin. The office nurse advised me not to, for fear of Reyes disease, but suggested the standard lukewarm bath… and to take him to the hospital if the fever got any higher. After a short discussion with my parents, we decided that it would be more comfortable for everyone if they took the two kids to their appointments, and I stayed home with the baby and my other son. I could tell he was getting sleepy, and I thought after they left and things calmed down, I’d try another attempt at a dose of Tylenol.

As soon as they walked out the door, I decided to take his temperature. I didn’t want to disturb his rest, but he hadn’t fallen asleep yet and I thought I had better try now, so I wouldn’t have to wake him later. I readied a dose of Tylenol and swiped his forehead. The thermometer read105.5! None of my kids had ever registered a fever that high. I panicked. I ran him upstairs and into a lukewarm bath. I told my 4 year old to keep talking to him while I began to pack a bag. He was so sluggish, I was afraid that he might even lose consciousness. Why was he allergic to Motrin now? I always pray, but I started pleading out loud to God. Why? Why hadn’t God just taken away his fever? I had prayed He would. I knew He could. I couldn’t even think of what to pack… a change of clothes… a couple diapers… that ready dose of Tylenol… I grabbed some loose clothing to dress the baby and headed downstairs. I was fearful and teary when I put the boys in the car. “Just keep talking to your brother” I told my son as I tried to concentrate on driving to the hospital. I called my parents to tell them to come back. “Meet me at the hospital” I told them.

(Side note: My 4 year old was incredible; soothing and calm. He kept his brother’s attention while being keenly aware of my fear and desperation. I couldn’t be more proud.)

Now, not to name names, I hate that local hospital. But they were the closest, and I gave them the benefit of the doubt that they could handle a fever and assumed they would obviously have more options of treatment than my failed Tylenol and Motrin. While waiting in triage, I had stripped his clothing and placed damp cloths on his head arms and legs. They took his temperature and it read around 101°. I asked the nurse if that was possible, for the temperature to have dropped that much after a lukewarm bath? She said it was, but decided to take a rectal reading for more accuracy. It was still over 103°, and his whole face was starting to swell, but still I was feeling optimistic: his temperature was down and we were in a place with professionals that could help. Shortly thereafter, my mother came in and took my other son out to the car with my dad and two other children. He would take them back to my house while she stayed with me. I called my husband to let him know what was happening, and he told me he was leaving work and on his way. But soon my optimism began turning to frustration. Call it “mother’s intuition”, or even common sense, but we were left the next 25+ minutes without anyone checking on my son or administering any attempt at a fever reducer. I could tell by the way he was acting that his it was starting to spike. When my husband arrived, I asked him to get the Tylenol from my car. Thank God I had thought to grab it! I had nothing to lose by trying, and in a triumphant effort, he was able to keep the medicine in his system without throwing up. It had now been about about a total of over 45 minutes since we had seen a nurse or anyone. After about 15 more minutes (of now pure neglect) I felt confident that he had enough medicine in his system to get him to Children’s Hospital, about a 30 minute drive further.

When we arrived to Children’s Hospital I was relieved. I knew we would get help. His fever was now hovering at around 102° (and his face was swollen to almost unrecognizable) while we explained to triage, nurses and eventually doctors what had been happening. I told them everything: the fever, the pinkeye, the swollen lymph node, the trip to urgent care, treatment for step, the antibiotic, the hives and seemingly new allergy to Motrin. The ER doctor explained how they would be doing an X-ray and an MRI, looking at the possibility of an infected lymph node or cyst. They started an intravenous antibiotic since he couldn’t keep medicine down. They tested his mucous for different strains of flu. As results started coming in and ruling things out the doctor would give us updates. It wasn’t an infected lymph node… his SED rate and white blood cell count were high… it could be an infection elsewhere… it wasn’t flu… we need to check his urine for bacteria… I loved the attention to detail, attention to my sick baby. (Thank you nurse Melissa.) With Noah in good hands, I was mostly worried about how I was I going to be able to treat future fevers… I mean I don’t have anything else in my fever-fighting arsenal except Tylenol and Motrin!

As the results kept coming in, the ER doctor would give us updates. She explained the MRI, the X-ray, some of the labs… and that some of the labs wouldn’t be in until tomorrow. Because they had tested for some things that came back questionable, they wanted to do further testing, just to be sure they didn’t miss anything. “Sure,” I thought, “Absolutely.” And then she mentioned that although rare, she just couldn’t rule out the possibility of Kawasaki’s Disease. “Uh-huh, ok,” I nodded. I really thought it was just protocol, the physician being thorough. I was convinced it was a just a virus, a double whammy with a case of pinkeye and an unsettling new allergy. She could have said “It’s possible your son is part alien,” and I would have given it as much attention. Understanding that I had no clue as to what Kawasaki’s Disease was, she jokingly suggested that I don’t google it. She went on to explain that the fever was definitely a symptom. (But fevers often are symptom to everything right?) She mentioned that the unilateral swollen lymph node (a less common characteristic of the disease) was significant in that usually with bacterial infections, such as strep, there is bilateral lymph node swelling (both sides). The pinkeye was definitely a trait of the disease. (But of course with 4 kids, I had seen pinkeye before.) She was very clear that it was too early to determine, but went on (for our knowledge) to describe it as an autoimmune disease where the body attacks the medium-sized tissue. The membranes, the soft tissue in the nose and eyes, are affected but most dangerously it affects the arteries to the heart. Therein lied the reason why she clarified that it was important to determine. If left untreated, the repercussions could be fatal down the road. Now she had my complete attention. The infected person could have coronary heart disease and ultimately a heart attack in their early 20’s. She compared it to your antibodies being Pac-man, chomping up the bad cells; but then it’s like they get so proud of themselves doing such a good job getting rid of all of the bad, that they start to attack everything in their sight and consequently attack the good. She reiterated that it is rare, but she couldn’t rule it out- not yet. He had some classic symptoms, like those red hands. She asked when we noticed the red hands. Red hands? I hadn’t noticed. Oh my goodness. Sure enough, it looked like someone had dipped his hand in red Kool-Aid. What? When did that happen?

According to www.heart.org:

Kawasaki’s Disease: Named after Dr. Tomisaku Kawasaki, a Japanese pediatrician, the disease has probably been in existence for a long time, but was not recognized as a separate entity until 1967. The incidence is higher in Japan than in any other country. In the United States it is more frequent among children of Asian-American background, but can occur in any racial or ethnic group.

The disease has been reported worldwide and in the United States it is the most common cause of acquired heart disease in children. In recent years, it has tended to occur in localized outbreaks, most often in the winter or early spring, but is seen year-round. Kawasaki disease almost always affects children; most patients are under 5 years old, and the average age is about 2. Boys develop the illness almost twice as often as girls.

The heart may be affected in as many as one of four children who develop Kawasaki disease. Damage sometimes occurs to the blood vessels that supply the heart muscle (the coronary arteries) and to the heart muscle itself. A weakening of a coronary artery can result in an enlargement or swelling of the blood vessel wall (an aneurysm). Infants less than 1 year old are usually the most seriously ill and are at greatest risk for heart involvement. The acute phase of Kawasaki disease commonly lasts 10 to 14 days or more. Most children recover fully.

Cause

The cause of Kawasaki disease is unknown. It does not appear to be hereditary or contagious. Because the illness frequently occurs in outbreaks, an infectious agent (such as a virus) is the likely cause. Sometimes more than one child in a family can develop Kawasaki disease, which may indicate a genetic predisposition for the disease.

We learned it’s a clinical diagnosis. There is no test that can positively identify you have Kawasaki’s Disease. And they still don’t know what causes the disease. The best guess is that there are environmental triggers, and only those who have the sensitivity to those triggers will react. They know it is more common in boys, even more so to Japanese boys, and specifically ages 2-5. The symptoms include a high and persistent fever usually lasting 10 days, red eyes, irritability and discomfort, occasionally the single swollen lymph node, the high white blood cell count… If they can mark about 5 things off of the checklist, especially in the absence of other possible solutions, then the diagnosis is made. After the diagnosis is made, quick treatment is preferred; the sooner treated, the less chance of unfavorable outcome.

By the next morning, Noah was diagnosed with Kawasaki’s Disease. There is no conclusive test or cause, but thankfully there is a cure. They discontinued the administration of antibiotics (they are not effective on the disease.) He was given an EKG and echocardiogram to determine any current damage and for future comparison. He started IV IG, Immunoglobulin therapy, within hours of the diagnosis. It was going to be a long process- on a normal administration it could take approximately 17 to 21 hours depending on how quickly they could ramp up the dosage. However, he had an allergic reaction to the initial treatment. After uncontrollable body shaking they had to stop. The next morning, with a few hours of rest, it was pertinent to try again. Through persistent 104° fevers, body aches, the newly-developed skin peeling (another signature Kawasaki’s Disease trait), and all-around misery he completed the full round of IV IG treatment. We were told there was about a 95% success rate after completion. To be given an approval for success he needed to be fever-free a certain amount of (maybe 6) hours. He wasn’t. And so, we started the process again- this time with a 99% rate of success. If he persisted to have a fever… the doctor gave us a couple options of how we could proceed. But I am thankful to say we never needed those options. The second treatment was effective. We gave him excessive but necessary amounts of prescribed aspirin (forget about Reyes Disease). We followed up with his cardiologist and he has been given a clean bill of heart health. As a precaution, before he starts sports, we will follow up again with a cardiologist when he reaches the age of ten.

Why does anyone have to suffer anything? I don’t know. But during all of the hours (and my 40th birthday) spent at the hospital, I had a lot of time to think about all that had transpired. By the second evening I had concluded it was nothing short of a miracle that he had developed an “allergic reaction” to the Motrin. I thought about myself in the beginning of the whole ordeal- in desperation crying out to God, about why now with this high fever Noah had developed a new allergy to the only thing that helped his fever. And how now with a clearer understanding, I was thanking God for the reaction! …One of those Unanswered Prayers song type of things. If I had kept his fever down with Motrin, I’m sure I would have spent days trying to treat strep throat with an antibiotic. It’s likely I would have thought he also was also fighting a virus… that would have explained the rash. I’m sure I wouldn’t have thought twice about the pinkeye- not initially, when time is of the essence. Kawasaki’s Disease wouldn’t have crossed my mind. Usually, the diagnosis of the disease is made around day 5 of the fever. We started treatment at about 3½- because of an “allergic reaction to Motrin.” God was with me through it all. I was (and am) in awe of His faithfulness.

Coincidentally, (because we hadn’t had enough fun) within a week my daughter began to have high fevers, a slight rash and red eyes. Of course we took her directly to Children’s Hospital. Obviously, I was heightened to the possibility of Kawasaki’s Disease. We were assured when we brought Noah home that the disease was not contagious, however, the possibility of them both being exposed to the same environmental triggers was not out of the question. Turns out she had the Adenovirus… and pinkeye. Who’d da thunk?

I should mention that these events took place last year. Oh and interestingly enough, Noah is not allergic to Motrin.

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Irish Poem and Blessing

I thought it was befitting to share a couple of Ireland’s treasures, William Butler Yeats and a traditional blessing; mostly, as they pertain to encouraging the love of life and others. So today (and every day) may you be able to set your differences aside and take joy in appreciation of one another! (I’m a little Irish, so I can say that.) ? ?

Happy St. Paddy’s Day!

 

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Loving Lately

Yes… I’ve done this before. I really just can’t help myself. It’s like that line from Godfather III, “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” That’s how I feel about Pinterest… and beautiful pie art. I’m a weirdo. I just love this stuff. People keep upping their pie game, and I’m hooked.

Of course I love it when they break it down. Especially in pictures… since I don’t read fluent Spanish.

Courtesy of lachicadelacasadecaramelo.com

Then there is really serious. I won’t even try.

Courtesy of mymodernmet.com

But it doesn’t have to be intricately woven to be beautiful. Look at this piece-of-art slab pie from bake-street.com:

Courtesy of Bake-Street.com

Gorgeous! I honestly don’t know if pineapple, ginger and turmeric is my new favorite flavor combination… it sounds a little out there even to me… but if you eat with your eyes first, then there’s a chance.

I am equally a fan of a simply woven pie. Probably because it’s more my pace. And probably because rhubarb, orange, and pistachio sound delicious.

Courtesy of sbs.com.au

There is a pie for every occasion…

Birthday? Got it.

Courtesy of Pinterest. And I really wish I could give the right person credit because you know they cut that “Happy Birthday” out by hand.

Anniversary? Of course.

Courtesy of CutiePiesNYC

Just to celebrate your love of pie? Absolutely.

Courtesy of Instagram @jojoromancer

There are so many to choose from. It’s hard for me to narrow it down to just a few.

I love that people let their creativity fly… on their pie! And with some really great ready-made dough options, (#sorrynotsorry) you can just bust out those cookie cutters and leaf presses for a fancy look with out a lot of weaving fuss.

Courtesy of Pinterest

Spring and berry season are right around the corner. I’ll bake to that.

Courtesy of thefeedfeed.com

Featured Image Courtesy of pillsbury.com

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Loving Lately

Okay, okay. I know what you’re thinking. “Whoa Sadie! Two posts in a row, your a little overzealous!”

That’s true.

Well, excited might be more accurate. But here’s the thing: if you’ve followed my blog at all, you know that Thursdays are really my only days of consistent posts. This is the day I share my favorite things, ideas, new finds, i.e. stuff I think everyone should know about. I love to share new products, delivery services, cookbooks, food (usually food), etc.. Right now, I am loving the idea of Spring.

 

Courtesy of DaySpring on Instagram

If you could see out my window right now, you’d laugh at my blatant disregard of the winter storm outside. Hey, that’s the beauty of denial optimism. And in spite of the fresh layer of snow on my lawn, I am ecstatic about spring on the horizon! I am loving the idea of rhubarb pies, tulips and daffodils, mucky boots, baby birds…

Two days ago, my kids were fighting while we were trying to get out the door for school. My son, overloaded with snow gear like the little brother in A Christmas Story, didn’t see (so he says) his sister’s leg while she was sitting on the floor pulling up her boots. He apologized after stepping on it, but apparently she wasn’t satisfied. So, after she stood up, she gave him a shove which sent him toward the staircase. He caught himself with his hands out on a step before any serious damage had been done, but the force of the shove (no impact mind you) was enough to cause his glass nose to start bleeding- maybe it also had something to do with the dry winter air. Anyway, I stopped zipping up the baby’s (he’s three years old, but my youngest) coat to run and grab a paper towel. My son with the bloody nose just stood there dripping. So, I yelled to the baby not to touch the blood, which I could see him staring at on the floor. I told my other son to come to me and helped him clean the blood off of his face and hands. I handed him a fresh paper towel to hold against his nose and turned around to see the blood drops had been smeared around the wood floor at the base of the steps by the baby, who while clearly ignoring my direction insisted he was helping clean up. I still don’t know what he used. I told him to go wash his hands, which he is very capable of doing since it has been a regular occurrence during his excessively long potty training routine. At this point, the bleeding seemed to be under control, and I cleaned the floor properly. I made sure my kids had their lunches, backpacks, gloves, etc. and realized that the baby had been in the bathroom a long time. I called his name and asked what he was doing, to which he replied “nuffing” and then I knew he was up to something. I walked in to see him covered in vaseline- his hands, his face, his shirt, his hair… Needless to say, the kids were late to school.

“But that was then, and this is now…” -Tommy Boy. I’m looking ahead to fresh- not frozen air. I’ve already seen bright ruby radishes in my local market. (Don’t tell me they’ve been there all year long, or that they were shipped from the south… I’m quite content in my Spring bubble.) I’m scouring Pinterest and flipping through my cookbooks for spring recipes like lamb stew, cream of asparagus soup and radish toasts:

Fried Egg on Toast with Salted Herb Butter and Radishes courtesy of Bon Appetit

Oh sure, I might have “the cart in front of the horse” so to speak; like department stores displaying Christmas decorations in October. But the first day of spring is officially less than two weeks away. After the very snowy winter we’ve had in the upper midwest, I’m ready.

Printable Spring Peony Art from The Happy House

We had two days of almost 60° weather last week. (Yes, I’m bragging.) I went for a walk around my new neighborhood. I cleaned a few windows. I could finally see the remnants of last year’s weeds that needed to be pulled. That was of course, before the last no school-snow day; before the second to last snow storm (which is still currently underway); before pulling out the boots and snow pants for the I-lost-track-of-how-many times. Don’t get me wrong, I love winter. I’m thankful for the beautiful snowfalls we had this year. However, it was a lovely glimpse of what lies ahead, where 2 rounds of stomach flu, flu type A, and another season of strep throat fades into a wintery memory.

Courtesy of Buzzfeed.com

It’s… so… close!

 

Picture by Heather A. Stillhufsen courtesy of Pinterest

Just imagine temperatures warm enough to open the windows; brisk- but not overly chilly evening walks… daylight sprawling out further into the day… sending the kids outside after dinner! The thought of these things are enough to get me through this (possibly) last blast of winter.

Courtesy of Inspirational Quotes

I hope you have a good day… and thoughts of Spring.

Featured photo courtesy of Zsa Zsa Bellagio Tumblr

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I’m Baaaack

It feels like forever since I’ve had a blog. In reality it’s been about a year since I took my leave of absence. But the time has been filled to the brim with changes and transformations, including some major life adjustments. We sold our home, purchased a home, and moved our family to a new area. We dealt with some serious illnesses. (Encore anyone?) We had to make really important decisions- the overwhelming kind (no pressure). Oh the joy of life’s crash courses… In short, I’ve come to this… I’m a writer. I love it. I miss my blog! There was a part of me a year ago that really thought I was a farmer. I’m not. There’s still a part of me that wishes I was, but reality is- I’m not. In almost every event that has transpired over the year, I would imagine how I would translate it into text. I would go over the wordy details in my head, while sitting in the hospital room or before falling asleep. It was my coping mechanism and mental relief (well, that and a lot of prayer). I love to write! …I didn’t make cheese. Never once did I wish I had animals to feed or crops to water. Honestly, I really can’t even fathom the extra responsibility.

There was one morning over the summer (which also feels like forever ago) when I hadn’t even made breakfast yet, and the humidity outside was like 100% (not really… but close) and the temperature was on track to be in the high 90’s. Even with the air-conditioning on, I was hot and I didn’t feel like making breakfast for myself and four kids. It was then that I knew that the last thing I wanted to do was go collect eggs or feed the hypothetical livestock. It was clear to me: I am not a farmer… and I’m turning into my mother.

I remember reading the forward of Homestead Kitchen, by Eve and Eiven Kilcher, written by Jewell, where she was expressing her admiration for the hard work they put into their farming and gardening. She was acknowledging her fondness for self sustainable living and responsible practices for growing and raising food… and admitting that her role lies in supporting those practices as a conscientious consumer. I read her forward thinking to myself, “You’re a Kilcher! What would I give for that kind of opportunity!?!” But here I am… a little further down the road of self-awareness, relating more to the self expression of Jewell rather than the homesteader in Eve and Eiven. Who knew? Probably everyone that knows me. But I had to explore the idea of it.

So, here I am, still a habitual dreamer- but an inspired writer! I am a totally overwhelmed mother of four who still loves to cook and entertain… with a lot to say. I’ve missed this! Some of you have stayed in touch, and a few have asked me to come back. It means a lot. Thank you! I’m happy to be here. 🙂