My Blogging Goals for 2014 are......

So a while back I discovered and blog link up thing where they ask you to finish the sentence.  My first blog was My Favorite Christmas Tradition.  I enjoyed writing that blog and have decided to follow along to each new Finish the Sentence Friday over at Janine's Confessions of a Mommyaholic.  I don't know if I will join in each week but I will see which topics move me.

So this week's topic is My Blogging Goals for 2014 are.  While I don't think this will be a good read for my readers (sorry) I do think that it will be good for me to get some goals and commit them to paper.  I also think it might be good to let my readers know what my goals are for my blog so they understand why I do some of the things I do.

So I don't know if I really have goals for my blog.  I started the blog.... well, I am not really sure why I started this blog.  I guess part of me wanted to get some of my stories down on paper (screen).  My grandmother kept journals all of her life.  Unfortunately, I didn't get to read most of them until after she had passed.  The journals shared a part of her life that I had no idea even existed.  Experiences and feelings that she had.  I don't want future generations to find out who I am after I die.  I don't tend to be a very open person.  I think I started blogging so that I could share a part of myself.  So that friends and family could get to know be better.  I should be able to share my feelings and beliefs in person but for some reason, I don't.  It is so much easier to do it on the screen.  I feel a little bit like Doogie Howser, M.D. (anyone else remember this show?).  He ended each show by typing a journal on his computer.  I realize that it is a little different.  He wrote his feelings down just for himself and I foolishly share them with the world (or at least to the few people who read my blog.)

So goals....  My goals would probably be to write more.  I always worry about writing great material, or writing something that isn't too short.  I also feel like I have to add pictures but don't completely understand all the copyright laws so I try to take my own or draw my own.  Both end up being of poor quality.  (Trust me, I know).  I am trying to write posts that will gain me followers.  That's the funny thing about blogging.  I put something out into the world and have no idea if people are reading it or enjoying it.  Sometimes I feel like I am writing to myself.  But that is okay.  I guess my goals are to worry less about blogging.  Who cares if people are sitting on the edge of their seat following my every word.  I am going to start writing for me and just see where it goes.  Some of my future blog posts will be shorter.  I think that I would rather write more often and worry less about length and if there are pictures.  I will also not worry about making ever blog fall down laughing funny.  So I am sorry if that disappoints you but I just don't do enough stupid stuff anymore.  I will try harder but in the mean time, I will have to find something else to write about.

So that being said, I would also love to hear from you.  What do you think my goals should be?  Write more funny stuff, more serious stuff?  More about my present, more about my past?  Let me know.  Nothing makes a blogger happier than a comment, like or share!

So it's Christmas yet again...

Christmas is almost here.  The stockings have been hung and all that jazz.  Christmas always leaves me with mixed feelings.  I have never been a huge fan of Christmas.  My entire single adult life, I only but up a Christmas tree one year.  I put it up the first year I lived alone after college and decided it was a lot of work to rearrange furniture and lug that tree and my decorations out.  Then I had to look at that awful cheap tree and my crappy cheap ornaments.  Way to much work just so I could look at that ugly tree.    Since The Smooch and I got married, the tree comes out a little more often.  If you read my blog My Favorite Christmas Tradition is..... then you will know that I have come a long way with my holiday traditions.

But Christmas is more than the decorations.  It would be so much easier if it stopped there but it doesn't.  Family is often involved.  The Smooch and I are lucky.  We both have loving families, blah, blah, blah.  What I actually mean by lucky with families is that both of our parents are still married so we only have two families to worry about and no step or half families.  So only two Christmases each year.  And we are even luckier because our families live in two different states.  While it sucks that we can see both of our families for every holiday, it also means that we only have to be in one place each holiday.  We don't have to rush from my family to his, driving hundreds of miles in the middle of the day just to watch small children ripping apart wrapping paper to see what they got.  Then once all those gifts are open, the complaining starts.  I didn't get as many gifts as my sibling.  My siblings gifts are bigger.  Blah, Blah, Blah.

I am not sure where I am going with all of this.  The truth is that I am waiting for The Smooch to come home so we can go to a Christmas Eve party.  So I am bored and rambling and just trying to kill some time.  But I think my point is that I think we often forget the real meaning of Christmas.  It should be a time about giving. 

I think we need to stop and really think about Christmas.  This should be a time of getting along and caring for each other.  Do nice things for strangers.  They don't have to be big.  They can be simple gestures.  Give to charity.  Don't create drama.  Love your family for themselves and not because they gave you crap.

I think that this blog is more a reminder for me than an interesting read for you.  I often forget the spirit of Christmas and let the drama take over.  So I will take a big breath and be happy for what I have, for the time I will get to spend with my family and for the overall magic of the season.

Merry Christmas to you.

The Smooch just got home and is complaining about there being no wine.  I guess this evening will be longer than anticipated without that boozy haze.

Merry Christmas to you.  I hope that the holiday, whichever holiday you celebrate, brings you happiness and cheer.


------Update---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The above was written on Christmas Eve 2013.  Today is the day after Christmas 2013.  And while I did try to feel the spirit of Christmas all day.  I was only successful part of the day.  I did find that spirit.  But I didn't find it in the constant debate over the Duck Dynasty guy.  He has the right to believe and say whatever he wants.  Just like you do.  If you don't like it, don't support him.  Stop watching his show.  I didn't find in in the on going debate about whether not we are allowed to say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays or whatever.  Say whatever you want.  But when people say something to you that you don't like, just remember the above.  We all have the right to believe in what we want.  And I certainly didn't find the Christmas spirit in all the bitching about UPS and FedEx.  For real people, give them a break.  They could not have predicted weather and other problems.  Those people work all night this time of year.  Do you?  Also, it is not UPS's fault that you waited to the last minute to order/ ship your gifts.  That was all you.  But I bet you are glad you finally have someone else to blame for a change of pass.

And the highlight of my non-spirit Christmas day was probably when a small child announced "This Sucks!" when he was told that instead of the regular feeding frenzy of everyone opening gifts at once, everyone would take turns opening gifts one at a time.  He declared "This Sucks, and is unfair for those of us who have to wait."

At that outcry, The Smooch and I smiled that knowing smile of a couple with no children and departed to our own house.  A house full of silence and where we could open gifts however we wanted.  That is where I found the Christmas spirit.  Alone with My Smooch.

I hope you found the Christmas spirit somewhere this holiday.

My Favorite Christmas Tradition is.....

While surfing the internet, I ran across the blog My Favorite Christmas Tradition Is.... from Janine's Confessions of a Mommyaholic.  Janine was challenging her readers to finish the sentence "My favorite holiday/ Christmas Tradition is...."  I am accepting that challenge.

What is my favorite Christmas Tradition??  That is a good question.  As far as traditions go, I am sort of in a transitional period.  The Smooch and I just hit our two year wedding anniversary in September.  We met in January before we got married so our first Christmas together was also our first Christmas together as a married couple.  This Christmas coming up will be our third together.  We are still looking for our Christmas traditions.  So far we haven't done anything consistently.  The Smooch's family is from New York so we spend every other year at their house for Christmas.  On those years (all 1 so far), we didn't even bother putting up a Christmas tree since we wouldn't be home to enjoy it.  On the years we stay home and go to my family's for Christmas, we do put up a tree but so far our tree is pretty sad.  I have some ornaments from my childhood.  My husband also has a few ornaments from his childhood but they all have his brother's name on them.  Apparantly an ex-girlfriend of The Smooch destroyed all of his childhood ornaments in some sort of crazed fit.  I think that might be about the coldest thing you could do to a person.  Somehow my husband ended up with some of his brother's ornaments.  So our tree is a mash up of ornaments from our childhood.

This brings me to my favorite Christmas tradition.  This may not be something we do at Christmas but it is something we do for Christmas.  The Smooch and I are trying to gather ornaments from "our" life.  When we travel, we try to buy ornaments that will remind us of these trips together.  We only have a few so far but my favorite thing is getting those ornaments out each year and remembering the trip we took.  Our Christmas tree is turning into a scrap book of our lives and that is probably my favorite holiday tradition.   

This is the ornament we recently bought on a trip to visit the in-laws.  It represents our trip to New York City we took last Christmas.  When we were in NY visiting his family, we went into the city to see the tree at Rockefeller Center.  When I get home, I will put last year's date on it and then I will hang it on the tree.  Whenever I see it, I will think of my first time to Rockefeller Center and even more importantly, the first Christmas I spent with my in-laws.

What are your favorite Christmas/ Holiday traditions?  I want to hear them!

The Walking Dead Took Over My Life

So you may or may not have noticed that I have been absent for a while.  I have a good excuse... well maybe not a good excuse, maybe just an excuse.  I started watching The Walking Dead on AMC.  My sister introduced the show to me when I was visiting her and I was immediately hooked.  The Smooch and I had to start watching it.  The show had just started it's fourth season, so we had some catching up to do.  The Smooch and I spent three solid weeks but we watched all three previous seasons and got caught up on season 4.  It took many types of media to get there.  We borrowed seasons 1 and 2 from the library.  We signed up for a one month free trial from Netflix just so we could get season 3.  Then we had to download and pay for the remaining episodes of Season 4.  But we are now caught up.    We stayed up late trying to get in one last episode.    We spent an entire Saturday dedicated to nothing but The Walking Dead.  We didn't leave the couch, we didn't shower, we didn't move.  We had pizza delivered directly to our couch so we wouldn't miss a minute. 

I want to save you all that pain and suffering so I am going to give you the cliff notes version of what happened in the four seasons of The Walking Dead.  **Spoiler Alert**  You may want to skip this blog if you are really interested in watching The Walking Dead, which I totally recommend.  Just kidding, I don't think I give away too much but if you are worried about it, just look at the pretty pictures.

The best part of me...

Lately I feel like The Smooch is getting the raw end of the deal.  He married me for a variety of reasons but I bet none of those reasons were because I am tired and grouchy at the end of the day.  Or maybe he is a masochist and that is exactly the reason he married.  In that case, we shall be happily married forever.  But I don't think so.  Which sucks because The Smooch sleeps later than I do so I don't see him until after work at which time I am normally grouchy and tired.  I am not this way because I hate my job.  It is quite the opposite.  I enjoy my job but that is not to say that I don't have my fair share of work related BS.  I do, who doesn't.  But I sometimes feel that I spend the best part of me at work.  I am refreshed when I get to work.  Little has crapped on my day yet.  The sun is shining.  By the time I get home from work, the sun has long gone to bed, which makes me want to be long gone to bed.  I feel like maybe I get a certain amount of patience every day.  And I feel like I use it all up at work.  I work in affordable housing and our tenants can sometimes be challenging.  That is not to say that they all are.  Some of them are very nice and grateful, but with every yin there is a yan.  For every great tenant, there is one crazy one, for every smiling tenant, there is a yelling one.  I sometimes feel that I use all my patience dealing with the tough tenants.  I use it dealing with the tenant who showed up drunk again...  I use it on the tenant who is asking for the impossible...  I use it on the tenant who feels entitled to things they don't deserve.  So by the time that I get home, I am tired and done with listening to others.  Why do I save the best of me for work?  Maybe because they pay me?  Maybe because it's my job?  This is not to say that all my patience is used on undeserving people.  I am very happy to give my patience to those who really need it.  That tenant who calls with lots of questions.  They are trying to understand a confusing process and I am happy to help them through it.  Better than you yelling at me later because you don't understand something.  I am happy to help people.

How do I save some of that patience and kindness for when I get home?  So that my husband and I can have a fun evening instead of me crawling into my pajamas and watching tv all evening.  I don't know the answer to that.  But for now, I am going to try to be more aware.  Try to be less grouchy with my husband.  And until I figure this all out, I am going to be glad to have a husband who likes curling up on the couch and watching tv as much as I do.

Ironically enough, The Smooch said to me while I was typing this.... "I love you even though you're a bad wife."  Wow, thanks honey.  Maybe I am not the only grouch.

 

 

I grew up in a zoo...

That may be a slight exaggeration but not far.  I didn't actually grow up in a zoo.  I did, however, grow up at a house with tons of animals.  You may remember from the blog post Random Stuff That Happened This Week - Week of September 9, 2013 that my mother (not my father, even though they live together) has a ton of dogs.  Now it may seem a little abnormal to have 9 dogs living in one household but it never seemed abnormal to me.  I grew up on a farm.  We did some farming when I was a kid but we did not have a big huge factory farm.  Just a small one.

Country life is different than city life.  I guess the same can be said about city life being different than country life.  Both are fine, they both just have their pros and cons.  In my country life, there were always tons of animals around.  Below are a list of animals that we had at our house at one time or another.  We didn't have all of these animals at once, they all over lap.

• Horse - Just one, Sunshine Jim

• Cow - Joey.  He made a good burger.

• Goats - Burt and Ernie.  I was four when we got them.  Give me a break.

• Dogs - Too many to count.  I do know that we had so many over the years that we had to start reusing names.

• Cats - When we first moved into our house, there were a bunch of feral cats.  This happens when you live in the country because assholes think that because you live in the country, it is okay to dump there unwanted cats at your house.  It's not dickhead.  That's not cool.  Love your animals.  Anyway, so we had a bunch of feral cats that we couldn't touch.  They didn't like people.  Since we couldn't catch them.  We couldn't remove their reproductive organs.  We did spay and neuter all of the kittens.  But for year's we couldn't catch the original cats and those cats kept on multiplying until they final died.  But at one time, we did have 17 cats.  In the immortal words of Bob Barker,  "Help control the pet population. Have your pets spayed or neutered." 

• Hamsters - We had two, Bud and Bart.  Naming was not our strong feature.

• Guinea Pigs - Just one, Sandy.  We would let her run around the bathroom, not all the times but sometimes.   And she loved to squeak.  That thing about drove you crazy with all that squeaking.

• Chinchilla - We only had one of these.  I can't remember it's name.  The curse of having a lot of pets is that you can't remember all there names.  But that critter was fun.  We loved to give it dust baths.

We also had a ton of birds.  I am not sure why but there were always birds roaming the property.

• Guineafowl - Not sure what to say about these.  They are like chickens but not at all.

• Parakeet - His name was Petey.  Yes, like the parakeet on Dumb and Dumber.

• Cockatiel - His name was Max.  He loved the blow dryer.  We would give him showers with a spray bottle and dry him off with the blow dryer.  Anytime you blew dry your hair he would go crazy because he wanted a blow out as well.  We kept Max in the bathroom.  With a house full of cats, small animals live in the room with a door that closes tight.

• Pheasants - Boring old garden variety.  When I was a kid my grandfather* was very active in the local conservation club.  One of the projects they worked on was bringing back pheasants to the area.  Apparently there were not many in the area.  They would deliver hundreds of baby chicks to my grandfather's house and he would put them in this HUGE cage in his backyard.  I can't even describe how big it was.  The cage was bigger than the second house I owned.  Then when they were all grown up, we would round them up.  Each person would take a dozen pheasants or so and release them in different parts of the county.

• Golden Pheasants - Not sure where we got these but they were pretty cool looking.

• Quail - Bob White - About as exciting as they sound.

• Doves - We had one really ugly one that we named Steve Urkel.  He was popular at the time.

• Peacocks - Peacocks are beautiful but the make crazy noises.  Their screeches sound like women screaming.  When we first got them the neighbors would stop by just to make sure we were all okay.

• Geese - I hated those things and they hated me. They once chased me through the yard peeking at me the whole time.  They cornered me in the barn until someone came out of the house to rescue me.  This story always gets big laughs but I am telling you, that shit was traumatizing.  I hate geese to this day.  NOT FUNNY.

• Chickens - We had a ton over the years.  But we did have this one rooster that hated men.  I didn't know a rooster could have those kind of emotions.  But he did and he hated my father.  If my father was walking around the barn, the rooster would run the other way around the barn so he could attack my father at a corner.  That thing was evil, pure evil.

• Ducks- We started out with 5 but had over 100 in a year.  They would hang out at our house in the spring and summer and then every fall they would migrate, well I guess I don't know where they went but they came back the next spring.  The story of how we got them is also quite funny.  When I was a kid, we had a Schwans Man.  He drove this huge freezer truck and drove around selling frozen goods (pizza, ice cream) out of his truck.  My dad mentioned to him once that he wanted some ducks.  The next time the Schwans Man came around, he had a box of ducks in the front seat of his truck.  I guess he was full service.

* Mutters under breath - Son of a Bitch

It's Time To Buy Lycra Or To Start Working Out

Today I went shopping for clothes.  I have a work conference coming up and wanted to find something a little more professional to wear .  Clothes shopping has lost some fun since getting married because of something that someone once referred to as "Happy Weight."  It is not weight gain that makes you happy but weight gain caused by being happy!?!  Stupidest thing I have ever heard.  So I am on a mission to find some great shapewear.  I would love to hear your suggestions in the comments.

But this reminded me of the last time I was in the market for some shapewear.  This happened just over two years ago right before The Smooch and I got married.  I needed some serious shapewear to go under my wedding dress.  The dress was strapless and I have big boobs.  For you lady readers, you know what a challenge buying shapewear can be, but to find something strapless that still has the support to hold up your girls is really a challenge.  For my male readers, I apologize for the below in advance.

My search took me in and out of many shops but I couldn't find exactly what I needed.  I had no idea how hard it would be.  And the poor Smooch was with me.  I told him it would take about 15 minutes but then the search ended up taking three hours in and out of eight stores.  He was a great sport though.

I ended up at Victoria's Secret.  The Smooch had had enough and went into a different store in the mall.  We agreed I would call him when I was ready and we would meet up.  I went into Victoria's Secret and explained what I was looking for.  No problem, we have exactly what you need.  She found my size and sent me to the dressing room.  I got to the dressing room and examined what I had.  It was basically a small tube with two cups at the top.  Was this the right size?!?!  No way.  I checked the label and the label confirmed my worst fears.  It was my size.  Dear God save me.  I said a prayer but couldn't hear God's response over his laughter.  I disrobed down to my knickers.  I tentatively stepped into the garment.  I got it pulled up to my butt but could not get it pulled over my ass.  Well maybe my ass is to large, maybe I need to pull it over my head.  So I took it off and tried to pull it on over my head.  But I couldn't pull it down while keeping my arms straight above my head.  Hmmmm......  This went on for about 15 minutes.  I tried stepping into it and pulling up, I tried pulling it over my head...  I twisted and pulled but I could not get it on.  Perhaps it was a puzzle and you had to pull and push in all the right places to get it to fall comfortably in place???  Perhaps if I had taken a yoga class or some sort of contortionist class I could have gotten it on???  Perhaps if I was double jointed, I don't know.  It seemed that it was not meant to be.  I disgruntledly put my clothes back on and left the dressing room.

The Victoria's Secret employee cheerily asked me how it went.  I told her that it didn't.  I couldn't figure out how to get it on.  She took me by the arm and assured me that we would get that life constricting girdle on me.  Again, I looked to God.  The laughing was uncontrollable now.  The Victoria's Secret employee was slightly older than me.  Not old enough to be my mother but old enough to have seen it all, to have been there and done that.  We went into the dressing room and I disrobed again.  I am now standing there in nothing but my underpants in front of the Victoria's Secret employee.  I should also add that I am quite sweaty from my first attempt at putting this contraption on.  She said you have to step into it and pull it on.  I had complete faith in her.  Let's do this.  I pulled it up again to my butt and again I couldn't get to it any higher.  Embarrassment is starting to set in.  My lower half is incased like a sausage with the top half of me pouring out of it.  Again, I should mention that I am sweating and am really starting to get hot.  This is only causing my body to expand.  Not a good thing.

She looked me in the eyes and said, we are going to do this.  She told me to grab each of the sides and we would pull it on together.  She then stepped up to me perpendicularly to my body in what I can only describe as a solid stance.  A stance she had obviously gained from years of pulling lycra onto desperate women.  She then bent over and put one hand on the front of the life changing garment and the other hand on the back.  Since the piece was still below my ass, she had to bend over slightly to grab the garment in the right places.  This put her face directly into my naked boobs.  Awesome.  She then yelled "PULL" and together we pulled with all our might and the damn thing slipped on and into place.  It was perfect.  I couldn't breath so I knew it was working.  To get the thing back off, we had to do the same thing in reverse, with both of us pulling at the same time.  Again, her face was in my boobs.

When it was over, we were both covered in sweat.  I paid for my hard earned breath stopper and left the store.  The Smooch found my sitting on a bench outside of Victoria's Secret.  My hair was disheveled, my face was red and I was sweating.  He also said I had a look on my face of complete despair.  He asked me what happened.  I told him that I couldn't tell him.  We weren't yet married and I didn't want to ruin his image of me.  I told him that it started with a workout and it ended with Victoria's Secret employee and I sharing a cigarette.

Flashback to college

Today I woke up and felt like I did when I was in college.  Hung over.  My body hurt...  my head was pounding.... and I was nauseous.  I am exhausted and I felt like I had been hit by a truck.  And then I found men's clothing on the floor.  Not my husband's.  Oh god...  what have I done?!  I tried to remember but it was a blur.  I was disoriented.  I didn't know what time it was.  I was confused.  I found The Smooch and then reality sunk in.  I asked The Smooch about the night before.  How much did I drink?  About a gallon, he replies... of water.  Water?  Oh yeah.  I'm not hung over, I'm just old.  I'm not 20 anymore.    I didn't have anything to drink last night.  I did attend a pretty awesome party.  The Smooch and I hosted a Halloween Party.  My body hurts partly because I was wearing the wrong shoes and standing all night.  And partly because people kept slamming into me because... well that's what happens when you dress up like a wrecking ball.*  My headache is due to lack of sleep.  I went to bed at 2:00 am.  That is much later than my normal bedtime of 11:00 pm and my abnormal bedtime of 9:00 pm.  Which is what time I went to bed the couple days leading up to the party.  I thought that you were supposed to need less sleep as you got older, not more?  I am nauseous because, like I did in college, I ate Taco Bell at 10:30 am after waking up.  I thought they opened at 10:00 so I trolled through their parking lot like a creeper waiting for them to open.  And the disorientation and not knowing the time can be explained because of Daylight Savings and the fact that we turned the clocks back.

And the men's clothing....  well, things came into focus quickly. 

Pile of Men's Clothing.  Not the Smooch's.

Apparently this guest left the party naked.

So I guess I am not as wild as I thought I was... or maybe as wild as I was in college.  But that's okay.  I had a great time last night anyway.  And as I am writing this, I see that it is almost 9:00 pm.  Which was 10:00 pm yesterday, which is passed my bedtime.  Happy Halloween and Good Night.


*The Smooch was Miley Cyrus.

The Smooch

I love my husband.  But I think that all wives say that.  We have to right?!  The Smooch and I have been married for just over two years.  In terms of being married, I think we might still be newly weds.  We are not a typical 20-something couple.  We are a 30ish/40ish something couple.  Being a little older and stuck in our own ways provides many challenges for us.  Especially since neither one of us is ever wrong.  And I do mean ever....*

I think as you get older what you find sexy changes...  in some ways at least.  I used to think sultry eyes and a charming smile where the end all be all.  But as I get older, I realize it is really something else.  It is finding out that a load of laundry got done so that you don't have to go commando at work...  It is coming home to a clean house and the grocery shopping done.  It is finding out that your better half can and will defend you and stand up for you in ways that you yourself could never do.  I have found that in The Smooch.

Now that is not to say that he is a push over and will defend me always.  No sir.  If I'm wrong, he lets me know it.  Which usually leads to fighting.*  But he does.  And I may not always show it because, well you know why* but he always makes me stop and think.  I stop and think about how I should have seen a problem or how I should have reacted to a certain situation.  And it may not always be obvious but I try to act differently.  The Smooch has this way of thinking that is new to me.  He sees things so much differently than I do.  He is always showing me a new way to live and a new way to be.  He teaches me so much about relationships.  I always found myself surrounded by people and I always thought that was good enough.  The Smooch is teaching me that it is not the quantity of people in your life but the quality.  And quality friends are harder to find and even harder to keep.  The relationship its self is harder.  It just takes more time and effort.  But because of these hard lessons, I think my friends/ family are getting more out of me and I am getting more out of them.  Or at least that is the goal.

The moral of the story is this....  I love my husband.  I am a lucky girl.




Dramatic Reenactment - The Smooch

*As of the publishing of this blog, The Smooch or his lovely bride have never been wrong.  EVER!!

Weird Shepherd's Pie

Last night I did something for The Smooch that I haven’t done in a while.  Eww..  No not that.   You have such a dirty mind.  What I actually did was cook.  Shocking I know.  But let's be clear, this is not a cooking website and I am not giving cooking advice.  You would be a fool to follow any advice I have on cooking.

Cooking at my house is never as easy as it sounds.  Our kitchen is tiny and I always have an audience.  I have been trying to teach the dogs to stay out of the kitchen.  I just about have the one below trained.  He does however hover in the door frame.  But he knows better than to cross that line.

Please sir can I have some more?

The cooking motivation started when I met with my blogger friend from Honesty's Protégée to discuss all things blogging.  She has an awesome blog full of recipes and DIY projects.  I picked out a recipe for Biscuit Lasagna to make but when I tried to explain it to The Smooch, he was disgusted.  Something about his family being Italian and lasagna being sacred and if it doesn’t have noodles then you can’t call it lasagna… or something along that line.  The argument that ensued ended with me saying “Fine, then it’s called Weird Shepherd’s Pie, can you eat that?” and he agreed he could eat it and maybe even enjoy it as long as lasagna wasn’t in the title.  Deal!

Green Peppers

The Smooch tends to hate my cooking.  I know, what an awful man he is.  But he has a good reason for hating my cooking.  I can't cook.  Or maybe a more accurate portrayal  is that I don't know how to follow a recipe.  Ok, that's not quite it either.  The truth is that I simply don't follow the recipe.  I tend to think of them more as guidelines.  If I don't have all the ingredients, that's okay, I'll just leave them out or I may try to substitute with something that I do have in the house.  Tomato sauce and ketchup??  Basically the same thing right?  And if I have 3/4 of a cup and the recipe calls for 1 cup then 3/4 will do.  And the opposite is also true.  It if calls for 3/4 of a cup and I have 1 cup, I add it all.  I am not putting 1/4 of a cup of something back in my fridge.  Instead of throwing it away, into the pot it goes.  And because of these tiny, insignificant changes, my husband thinks everything I cook is awful.  Hogwash I say.  It takes like Hogwash, he says.

So I made some minor changes, sue me.  It turned out pretty good.  Except that the biscuits only cooked on the top side and they were raw on the bottom.  But that could have totally be our oven.  Right?  Otherwise, It was pretty good.  And eating a raw biscuit won't kill you.

Yum??

Follow my blog with Bloglovin