Me:  Karma.

 T:  I hate karma.  Except when it hits my sister.

Meat is Murder.  Tasty tasty murder.

Trees … the real cause of forest fires.

A few mornings ago, as I was struggling with my new “medical alert” bracelet for my diabetes (had to get one now that I’m on insulin), I couldn’t help but think how that was also “a metaphor for my whole life.”  Try as I might, I just couldn’t get that darn bracelet on by myself.  I finally relented and asked my husband to help me.  I soon saw the bracelet as a metaphor for my life with diabetes.  I try and try on my own, but I just can’t do it alone.  I struggle in vain until it is finally apparent even to me (did I mention that stubbornness thing?) that I must ask for help. 

I have slowly come to accept that needing and asking for help is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of courage.  That reaching out is a risk that reaps immeasurable rewards.  Distance may be safe but it is also empty.  And that while letting people in is scary, it is the only way to lead a life full of love. 

I have been wanting to go back to some kind of paid work for several months now.  My first choice was a part-time job (doing something that I love) so I could balance our family life with my work.  Well, that was proving very difficult to find.  So, on a bit of a whim I took a part-time job at a local place that I shop. 

Let’s just say that the experience propelled me to get off my hiney and get a “real” job.  After one evening of floor mopping (I know, I know) I got down to some serious business of firing off my resume.  Actually, when they initially told me I was going to be mopping the floor I was like, “Can I phone my husband to come in and do it for me?  He’s much better at floors than I am.”

 So now, a few months later and in a “real” job, I am thanking my lucky stars.  I’m actually doing a job related to my background, I’m working with amazing people, and guess what?  they’re totally into food.  Every day I’ve been there we’ve had some sort of shared eating experience.  There’s nothing like bonding with people while you have a mouth full of food (sounds slightly suggestive doesn’t it?)

So yes, sometimes crap is good for you.

Blueberry Dark Chocolate Almond Cookies – the “Sweet Blues”

1/2 cup butter or non-hydrogenated margarine

2/3 cup brown sugar

1 egg (omega-3 if possible)

1 tsp vanilla

1 1/2 cups all purpose flour or whole wheat pastry flour

1 cup quick oats

1 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 cup dark chocolate chips (Belgian choc is unbeatable)

1/2 cup dried blueberries

1/2 cup slivered almonds, toasted (toast in frying pan for a few minutes over medium heat until golden brown)

1)  Heat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. 

2)  Beat butter and brown sugar in mixing bowl until smooth.

3)  Add egg and vanilla.  Mix until smooth.

4)  Add flour, oats, baking soda, and salt.  Mix until thoroughly combined. 

5)  Stir in chocolate chips, dried blueberries, and toasted almonds.

6)  Drop dough by spoonfuls onto cookie sheets.  Flatten slightly with hands. 

7)  Bake 15 minutes until pale golden.  Cool on wire rack.

Makes approximately 24 cookies.  Delicious with coffee or a glass of milk.

Well, this year he gave me the best anniversary gift ever:  3 live lobsters from Nova Scotia!!  I have been pining for lobster lately and have wistfully mentioned on several occasions that we really need to go out for a lobster dinner.  (He’s not a big fan of the creatures so if we go out he can eat something else.) 

He came home from Nova Scotia very late the night before our anniversary.  In the morning he showed me the precious cargo of yummy crustaceans in our fridge. 

Needless to say we had a wonderful dinner that evening:  steamed lobster with clarified butter, bbq ribeye steaks (my fave cut), butter wrinkled green beans, sauteed garlic mushrooms (don’t ask how much butter we ate that night!), baked potatoes, and a delicious dark chocolate orange cake with vanilla ice cream.   No wonder I married the man.

http://barfblog.foodsafety.ksu.edu/2007/10/articles/food-safety-communication/12-germiest-places/index.html

His porn:  the Golf Channel.

I just had a good sob and that helped somewhat. 

I’ve talked several times about the incredible support I get from so many people in my life.  Right now, the people whom I generally lean on are all dealing with their own issues, and I feel so helpless at times.

Having an addictive crutch I could turn to seems very appealing at this point (does caffeine-free Diet Pepsi count?)  And what exactly would that addiction be?  Bad-tasting fizzy brown water?  I could go to BTFBWA.  Think I may have to be the founder of that one.  Funny how the sarcasm never seems to abandon me.  It just includes more curse words.

Anyway, now that I feel I’m right in the thick of it all, I do NEED to write.  I’ve been looking very inwardly lately and I now need to spend some time spewing it all.  So, duck and cover.  This one may be ugly. 

Undeniable evidence that life is not fair.