A free salad and a kid's meal (that my kids can't eat). Now that's divine retribution.
Rachel:
I just got off the phone with Phoebe and would have called you if I had your phone number. I wanted to apologize for the way my manager in Davis handled your lunch visit on the 17th. As the owner and having three kids of my own, I understand the experiences in dining out with kids. It is never the intent of any of my employees or managers to offend or disappoint our guests' experiences. I have talked to Andrew, the manager on duty that day, and rehearsed a different way to manage this situation (politely and apologetically). We value every guest's experience to the highest standard and I can assure you this will not happen again. If you would be so kind as to email me your home address (for my eyes only), then I will send you a coupon for a complimentary salad and kid's meal as a token of my apology.
Kindest Regards,
Gerry Bugas,Owner
1.30.2006
Say 'hasta' to January and read this poem
I was sitting here thinking about the last month, and some of the strange, sweet, and bitter things that have happened. And then I thought about newness (I usually love January for this very notion), and decided that this January didn't really count. So, bring on February, full of love, family, fun, frolicking, friends . . . . and then I somehow thought of this poem, which happens to be one of my top 10, if not top 5, if not the all-great #1? (I could NEVER narrow it down that far.) When I heard Robert Hass himself read this at the Westminster College Poetry Series, I was so HAPPY, too!
Happiness
Because yesterday morning from the steamy window
we saw a pair of red foxes across the creek
eating the last windfall apples in the rain—
they looked up at us with their green eyes
long enough to symbolize the wakefulness of living things
and then went back to eating—
and because this morning
when she went into the gazebo with her black pen and yellow pad
to coax an inquisitive soul
from what she thinks of as the reluctance of matter,
I drove into town to drink tea in the café
and write notes in a journal—mist rose from the bay
like the luminous and indefinite aspect of intention,
and a small flock of tundra swans
for the second winter in a row was feeding on new grass
in the soaked fields; they symbolize mystery, I suppose,
they are also called whistling swans, are very white,
and their eyes are black—
and because the tea steamed in front of me,
and the notebook, turned to a new page,
was blank except for the faint idea of order,
I wrote: happiness! It is December, very cold,
we woke early this morning,
and lay in bed kissing,
our eyes squinched up like bats.
--Robert Hass
Happiness
Because yesterday morning from the steamy window
we saw a pair of red foxes across the creek
eating the last windfall apples in the rain—
they looked up at us with their green eyes
long enough to symbolize the wakefulness of living things
and then went back to eating—
and because this morning
when she went into the gazebo with her black pen and yellow pad
to coax an inquisitive soul
from what she thinks of as the reluctance of matter,
I drove into town to drink tea in the café
and write notes in a journal—mist rose from the bay
like the luminous and indefinite aspect of intention,
and a small flock of tundra swans
for the second winter in a row was feeding on new grass
in the soaked fields; they symbolize mystery, I suppose,
they are also called whistling swans, are very white,
and their eyes are black—
and because the tea steamed in front of me,
and the notebook, turned to a new page,
was blank except for the faint idea of order,
I wrote: happiness! It is December, very cold,
we woke early this morning,
and lay in bed kissing,
our eyes squinched up like bats.
--Robert Hass
1.26.2006
i don't think this fits, do you?
| Your Birthdate: June 28 |
 Your strength: Your bold approach to life Your weakness: You don't accept help Your power color: Bronze Your power symbol: Pyramid Your power month: October |
What Does Your Birth Date Mean?
1.24.2006
No More Gloomy Tuesdays
Temporarily no more insanity here. (TEMPORARILY=key word?!) No more anger either. That feels good.
Is Zen the absence of emotion? (Would that be good?) Absence of desire? Or just the absence of thought? (During a pretty severe bout of post-partum OCD with #1, I used to tell Jon that I wanted a full-frontal labotomy--I didn't really know, nor do I yet, what that exactly entails. I craved absence to erase the non-stop thinking, worrying, ruminating...Paxil 20 mg fixed me right up and I think it's pretty safe to say that I no longer want the labotomy. And that feels good, too.) Or is reaching a Zen state more the presence of pure calm? I haven't reached any of these states yet, but I think I'm learning to navigate the insanity a little better? Hopefully.
Today we talked about emotions at Leah's preschool. When Mrs. Bird asked the group of 3-year olds if it was o.k. to be sad, most of them nodded their heads horizontally. And then she reassured them that it IS o.k. to be sad. The next question: Is it o.k. to be angry? Again, they all nodded no. She retorted, It is o.k. to be angry, too! I didn't realize it at the time, but she was reassuring me, too. Isn't it crazy, awesome, curious that we need to unlearn emotional stigmas when we're three, and then again when we're 29, and almost surely when we're 79? It's the opposition-in-all-things thing that I sometimes want to fight, but I realize it makes sense.
I remember one moment of teenage angst when I told my mom that I think God tricked me into choosing His plan...the other way seemed preferable in that instant. Obviously I was joking, but only kind of. (I'm the queen of irreverant jokes, but I know that God still loves me inspite of [and for?] it.) So today I'm giving a nod to the pleasant and the "un," the fun and the "not so," the delicious and the gross, the heavently and the human--because I'm not going to ever escape the downs, and they make me appreciate the ups even more- and here's a little list:
*I've only flossed twice in about 3 months. It's a never-ending battle. And the only reason I've done it for the last two nights is because I'm going to see uncle A.J., DDS next month while I'm in Utah.
*I'm totally doing my Darlybird business. It's happening. I'm excited and scared and nervous.
I'm happy to see that there are more happies than "not"s on this list. Hope yours has more joys, too.
Is Zen the absence of emotion? (Would that be good?) Absence of desire? Or just the absence of thought? (During a pretty severe bout of post-partum OCD with #1, I used to tell Jon that I wanted a full-frontal labotomy--I didn't really know, nor do I yet, what that exactly entails. I craved absence to erase the non-stop thinking, worrying, ruminating...Paxil 20 mg fixed me right up and I think it's pretty safe to say that I no longer want the labotomy. And that feels good, too.) Or is reaching a Zen state more the presence of pure calm? I haven't reached any of these states yet, but I think I'm learning to navigate the insanity a little better? Hopefully.
Today we talked about emotions at Leah's preschool. When Mrs. Bird asked the group of 3-year olds if it was o.k. to be sad, most of them nodded their heads horizontally. And then she reassured them that it IS o.k. to be sad. The next question: Is it o.k. to be angry? Again, they all nodded no. She retorted, It is o.k. to be angry, too! I didn't realize it at the time, but she was reassuring me, too. Isn't it crazy, awesome, curious that we need to unlearn emotional stigmas when we're three, and then again when we're 29, and almost surely when we're 79? It's the opposition-in-all-things thing that I sometimes want to fight, but I realize it makes sense.
I remember one moment of teenage angst when I told my mom that I think God tricked me into choosing His plan...the other way seemed preferable in that instant. Obviously I was joking, but only kind of. (I'm the queen of irreverant jokes, but I know that God still loves me inspite of [and for?] it.) So today I'm giving a nod to the pleasant and the "un," the fun and the "not so," the delicious and the gross, the heavently and the human--because I'm not going to ever escape the downs, and they make me appreciate the ups even more- and here's a little list:
*trader joe's tulip pot for $2.79
*reading Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle to Leah tonite. I used to LOVE Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, and I mean LOVE!
*Esther trying to swipe the un-opened Diet Pepsi can off Jon's desk while I type this. (I refuse to glory in her heinous scream and tooth pain. I don't see an upside to this yet.)
*Our home is basically putting us in the poor house. Hmmm....should that be public knowledge? You pay to live in Cali, and sometimes I want OUT; that's all I've got to say! But 63 degree weather today was amazing! Riding in the car with windows down? Magical.
*Allofmp3.com has really great music to download (for less than 10 cents a song!) And according to NPR, it's totally legal...for now. Burn, baby burn!
*Just now, as I was watching "American Idol," I started getting EMOTIONAL when Kellie Pickler, a girl who was abandoned at age 2 by her mother, and whose father has been in and out of prison for her whole life (druggie) was given the golden ticket by the judges. I think this proves that I've got my Grandma Jean's crying gene. Is it o.k. to cry, Mrs. Bird? I think so.
*I've only flossed twice in about 3 months. It's a never-ending battle. And the only reason I've done it for the last two nights is because I'm going to see uncle A.J., DDS next month while I'm in Utah.
*I'm totally doing my Darlybird business. It's happening. I'm excited and scared and nervous.
I'm happy to see that there are more happies than "not"s on this list. Hope yours has more joys, too.
1.18.2006
The past week has sucked, but here's a great poem
I've had an extraordinarily crappy week, culminating in the nadir of heinosity (did I use that correctly?) yesterday when a sweaty, quivering, red-cheeked, white-faced manager at davis' eatery "pluto's" asked me to leave because he had received complaints about my children. he brought over a "to-go" box for my salad and showed me the door. I immediately started crying (I'm very fragile at this point) and swigged as much as my Diet Coke as I possibly could, seeing as though I couldn't take my glass with me. As if pluto's is a nice restaurant where children should not be seen OR heard. I 've thought of several retorts to said quivering manager post-situation, all of which contain profanity. Kudos to dear Phoebe, who was with me, and went back to tell the idiot face-to-face that he handled the situation poorly---and then proceeded to email the corporate office of pluto's, detailing the above situation, adding that she will no longer bring her children there, and will tell all of her friends about this incident. fight the power, phoebe! ah yeah! so all i want to do is post a fabulous poem by marge piercy, the queen mother of fighting the power, but i can't find "something to look forward to" anywhere. instead, i'll post another fave:
Cats Like Angels
Cats like angels are supposed to be thin;
pigs like cherubs are supposed to be fat.
People are mostly in between, a knob
of bone sticking out in the knee you might
like to pad, a dollop of flab hanging
over the belt. you punish yourself,
one of those rubber balls kids have
that come bouncing back off their own
paddles, rebounding on the same slab.
You want to be slender and seamless
as a bolt.
When I was a girl
I loved spiny men with ascetic grimaces
all elbows and words and cartilage
ribbed like cast up fog-grey hulls,
faces to cut the eyes blind
on the glittering blade, chins
of Aegean prows bent on piracy.
Now I look for men whose easy bellies
show a love for the flesh and the table,
men who will come in the kitchen
and sit, who don't think peeling potatoes
makes their penis shrink; men with broad
fingers and purple figgy balls,
men with rumpled furrows and the slightly
messed look at ease of beds recently
well used.
We are not all supposed
to look like undernourished fourteen year
old boys, no matter what the fashions
ordain. You are built to pull a cart,
to lift a heavy load and bear it,
to haul up the long slope, and so
am I, peasant bodies, earthy, solid
shapely dark glazed clay pots that can
stand on the fire. When we put our
bellies together we do not clatter
but bounce on the good upholstery.
---Marge Piercy
[Note: I don't like the purple figgy balls image, either.]
Cats Like Angels
Cats like angels are supposed to be thin;
pigs like cherubs are supposed to be fat.
People are mostly in between, a knob
of bone sticking out in the knee you might
like to pad, a dollop of flab hanging
over the belt. you punish yourself,
one of those rubber balls kids have
that come bouncing back off their own
paddles, rebounding on the same slab.
You want to be slender and seamless
as a bolt.
When I was a girl
I loved spiny men with ascetic grimaces
all elbows and words and cartilage
ribbed like cast up fog-grey hulls,
faces to cut the eyes blind
on the glittering blade, chins
of Aegean prows bent on piracy.
Now I look for men whose easy bellies
show a love for the flesh and the table,
men who will come in the kitchen
and sit, who don't think peeling potatoes
makes their penis shrink; men with broad
fingers and purple figgy balls,
men with rumpled furrows and the slightly
messed look at ease of beds recently
well used.
We are not all supposed
to look like undernourished fourteen year
old boys, no matter what the fashions
ordain. You are built to pull a cart,
to lift a heavy load and bear it,
to haul up the long slope, and so
am I, peasant bodies, earthy, solid
shapely dark glazed clay pots that can
stand on the fire. When we put our
bellies together we do not clatter
but bounce on the good upholstery.
---Marge Piercy
[Note: I don't like the purple figgy balls image, either.]
1.12.2006
Allergies Shmallergies
Today is ice cream day at Leah's preschool. They're learning about children from other lands, and today they get to make ice cream by rolling cream and sugar around in coffee cans. (I'm not sure what country this represents? Is ice cream indigenous to somewhere?) For the normal parent and normal child, that would be a very fun activity. Those creative cooking projects were going to be my forte' as a mom. I always looked forward to rolling out sugar cookies with my kids, teaching them how to make teddy bear bread like my mom taught me, and Jon and I even joked that our child would be a talking cheese encyclopedia--first word, "gruyere", etc... Well, unlucky for us, our darling curly girly has severe allergies to wheat, dairy, nuts, and eggs, and all incarnations of said foods. Which means just about everything. So when I arrived at preschool this morn and realized I had forgotten to bring her Raspberry Gelato Classico (thanks, Costco!) or her Strawberry Soy Dream, I was momentarily crestfallen. But then I realized that I could just head over to the neighborhood Bel Aire and get her something tasty and cold to recompense.
After the whole get-the-sorbet-and-go-back-to-preschool-and-endure-the-separation-anxiety-once-more ordeal (did i overuse the hyphen, or what?), I was driving home and just got a little melancholy. What would it be like to have a kid who could eat a PB&J? (Or my personal fave, PB&Honey...) How would it be to go to a restaurant and order a kid's meal, or a birthday party and not have to bring special rice krispie treats? Or not cry in the frozen foods aisle at Trader Joe's when I read the ingredients of their Chicken Taquitos for the gazillionth time and realize they have changed recipes and now make Leah's one-and-only yummiest food with wheat starch? Or not have to bring brown rice bread to church every Sunday so your little girl can actually take the sacrament? Or take your toddler to the hospital after an anaphylactic reaction to spelt noodles? The list could go on forever, and I don't intend to wallow in this post. But somehow getting the sad things out on paper--ha!--computer is therapeutic to me "at this juncture."
What are the happy things?
Leah has Barbies who have allergies. (There is nothing more adorable than hearing her explain to that Barbie's friends that she can't have certain foods because they make her tummy sick. But maybe she'll outgrow them someday!
And I think her new Cabbage Patch, Claudia Fernanda, has allergies too.
I've invented a few tasty recipes for soy butter chocolate chip cookies, pumpkin cookies, and berry muffins---sans wheat, dairy, nuts, and eggs! (They are actually muy delicioso!)
In-n-Out Burger has an extremely limited menu, and therefore doesn't fry anything breaded in the oil with their french fries, so Leah gets to eat them! And she can down two meat patties (sans fillers) in about 20 seconds flat. (Even Esther eats two patties!) [One HUGE reason we can't move out of this state!]
She is aware that foods have the potential to be dangerous to her--much better than when she was younger and automatically put everything in her mouth. When she went trick-or-treating, she asked every single person, "Is this allergies?" She got a lot of blank stares, but after I explained, most people took huge pity on her and gave her two or more of the non-allergy selection (nerds, skittles, starburst, smarties, dum dums---gotta love those companies!)
Anyway, I'm feeling better now, and it's almost time to go pick that cutie up from preschool! I bet her Haagen Daz peach sorbet beat the socks off of the other kids' ice cream!
After the whole get-the-sorbet-and-go-back-to-preschool-and-endure-the-separation-anxiety-once-more ordeal (did i overuse the hyphen, or what?), I was driving home and just got a little melancholy. What would it be like to have a kid who could eat a PB&J? (Or my personal fave, PB&Honey...) How would it be to go to a restaurant and order a kid's meal, or a birthday party and not have to bring special rice krispie treats? Or not cry in the frozen foods aisle at Trader Joe's when I read the ingredients of their Chicken Taquitos for the gazillionth time and realize they have changed recipes and now make Leah's one-and-only yummiest food with wheat starch? Or not have to bring brown rice bread to church every Sunday so your little girl can actually take the sacrament? Or take your toddler to the hospital after an anaphylactic reaction to spelt noodles? The list could go on forever, and I don't intend to wallow in this post. But somehow getting the sad things out on paper--ha!--computer is therapeutic to me "at this juncture."
What are the happy things?
Leah has Barbies who have allergies. (There is nothing more adorable than hearing her explain to that Barbie's friends that she can't have certain foods because they make her tummy sick. But maybe she'll outgrow them someday!
And I think her new Cabbage Patch, Claudia Fernanda, has allergies too.
I've invented a few tasty recipes for soy butter chocolate chip cookies, pumpkin cookies, and berry muffins---sans wheat, dairy, nuts, and eggs! (They are actually muy delicioso!)
In-n-Out Burger has an extremely limited menu, and therefore doesn't fry anything breaded in the oil with their french fries, so Leah gets to eat them! And she can down two meat patties (sans fillers) in about 20 seconds flat. (Even Esther eats two patties!) [One HUGE reason we can't move out of this state!]
She is aware that foods have the potential to be dangerous to her--much better than when she was younger and automatically put everything in her mouth. When she went trick-or-treating, she asked every single person, "Is this allergies?" She got a lot of blank stares, but after I explained, most people took huge pity on her and gave her two or more of the non-allergy selection (nerds, skittles, starburst, smarties, dum dums---gotta love those companies!)
Anyway, I'm feeling better now, and it's almost time to go pick that cutie up from preschool! I bet her Haagen Daz peach sorbet beat the socks off of the other kids' ice cream!
1.07.2006
Happiness Runs...
There is big sky here. Full of possibility. I used to miss Utah's mountains. When we first moved to Davis, I was missing Utah, and family, and familiarity, and mountains. One downer of a night, Jon invited me on a date/walk. He had the "perfect" plan. We walked onto UCDavis campus from our one-bedroom bungalow on First Street and headed towards the Law School. I was a bit skeptical about the plan, wondering when it was going to turn into anything anticipation-worthy. And then he did it: he went to the basement of the Law School Bldg, purchased an "It's It" (graham cracker/ice-cream sandwich dipped in chocolate----native specialty of California) in the humming, refrigerating vending machine and walked me back outside. He called me up this tiny little dimple in the grass===made for mere landscape architectural interest, gave me a bite of the "It's It," a hug, and said, "Here we are on Davis' highest mountain." I haven't forgotten this little moment. I don't think I will.
Back to mountains and sky and today. I was driving back from the Oakland Temple (thanks Chantel, Cheryl, and Christine for the experience), and as I passed over the flooded rice fields of the Yolo Causeway, I was amazed at the blue, cloud-filled sky--so breathtaking, so monumental--and realized [once again] that I love big sky. I think back to Jon's literal making a "mountain out of a mole-hill" for me back on the law school lawn, and I realize how a sense of physical place and belonging is so important to me. But the strange thing is that my loyalties have totally shifted. Sky signals my home now more than mountains, and I love it--the possibilities of big sky are endless. I don't mean to overly-romanticize it, but all I can think of is a line from Room With a View (complete with Mr. Emerson's British accent, of course): "Yours is glorious countryside, Honeychurch" and I now believe that my place is the most glorious countryside--physical and spiritual--and that is the happiest place to be.
****************
This has nothing to do with sky or mountains, but everything to do with Jon and cheese. (Two words which are synonymous--as any jon-lover will know). Tonite we decided to go for a treat. But we've frequented Rick's Dessert Diner (where we take every single out-of-towner to be stunned by 15" high cakes and sinful Chocolate O.D.) too many times, and I didn't want ice cream, and there weren't any bakeries open at 7:30 on a Saturday night. Until I thought of Whole Foods. YUM. So we went to Whole Foods with sleeper-clad girls and perused the "baked good" section to our hearts' content. I settled on two cookies: peanut butter chocolate and mint chocolate chip. Jon opted for Chocolate Lava and then headed for the cheese aisle. He selected three: "laguiole grand aubrac jeune montagne," "sheep ossau iraty," and "chaumes." And this is the part I love: After he had gobbled the entirety of all three cheese "samples," he asked me if I had an extra notebook laying (lying? Dang, I'm an English teacher and I don't even know....the youth of today!) around. I didn't know what for and kind of ignored him because I was engrossed in "product development" and catching up on blogs....and then I saw it: a little wax paper bakery wrapper (from one of the cookies?) with the stickers pulled off from the cheeses, and Jon's little scrawly writing on each individual label:
*Laguiole grand.....: "Very good. Almondy texture/soft texture, too. A little bit of strong taste (butt) that turns out very mild.
*Sheep....: "So good. Mild with a kick. Has almondy, yet soft texture. Excellent."
*Chaumes....:"Cross between havarti and muenster. Very mild. good--not exotic."
This discovery was one of those moments when I realized how much I love my husband--his silly cheese "log" and all. And I love the "almondy texture" assessment, almost as much as I love big sky. Maybe more.
Back to mountains and sky and today. I was driving back from the Oakland Temple (thanks Chantel, Cheryl, and Christine for the experience), and as I passed over the flooded rice fields of the Yolo Causeway, I was amazed at the blue, cloud-filled sky--so breathtaking, so monumental--and realized [once again] that I love big sky. I think back to Jon's literal making a "mountain out of a mole-hill" for me back on the law school lawn, and I realize how a sense of physical place and belonging is so important to me. But the strange thing is that my loyalties have totally shifted. Sky signals my home now more than mountains, and I love it--the possibilities of big sky are endless. I don't mean to overly-romanticize it, but all I can think of is a line from Room With a View (complete with Mr. Emerson's British accent, of course): "Yours is glorious countryside, Honeychurch" and I now believe that my place is the most glorious countryside--physical and spiritual--and that is the happiest place to be.
****************
This has nothing to do with sky or mountains, but everything to do with Jon and cheese. (Two words which are synonymous--as any jon-lover will know). Tonite we decided to go for a treat. But we've frequented Rick's Dessert Diner (where we take every single out-of-towner to be stunned by 15" high cakes and sinful Chocolate O.D.) too many times, and I didn't want ice cream, and there weren't any bakeries open at 7:30 on a Saturday night. Until I thought of Whole Foods. YUM. So we went to Whole Foods with sleeper-clad girls and perused the "baked good" section to our hearts' content. I settled on two cookies: peanut butter chocolate and mint chocolate chip. Jon opted for Chocolate Lava and then headed for the cheese aisle. He selected three: "laguiole grand aubrac jeune montagne," "sheep ossau iraty," and "chaumes." And this is the part I love: After he had gobbled the entirety of all three cheese "samples," he asked me if I had an extra notebook laying (lying? Dang, I'm an English teacher and I don't even know....the youth of today!) around. I didn't know what for and kind of ignored him because I was engrossed in "product development" and catching up on blogs....and then I saw it: a little wax paper bakery wrapper (from one of the cookies?) with the stickers pulled off from the cheeses, and Jon's little scrawly writing on each individual label:
*Laguiole grand.....: "Very good. Almondy texture/soft texture, too. A little bit of strong taste (butt) that turns out very mild.
*Sheep....: "So good. Mild with a kick. Has almondy, yet soft texture. Excellent."
*Chaumes....:"Cross between havarti and muenster. Very mild. good--not exotic."
This discovery was one of those moments when I realized how much I love my husband--his silly cheese "log" and all. And I love the "almondy texture" assessment, almost as much as I love big sky. Maybe more.
1.06.2006
anyone know a good web designer?
I'm working on my business, and i need to hire a web designer. Pretty soon. I was kind of thinking a student or someone who wants to build their portfolio (maybe a bit less expensive) versus a tried and true pro....but either will do at this point. If you have a suggestion, please drop it my way!
1.05.2006
1.04.2006
and you thought tater-tot casserole was WT?
***As I was looking at my SPAM file in gmail, the mail-content-based link was grosser than gross. I think this may rival the "lovely jello salad" recipe I spied in the DesNews years ago. (That recipe had green jello, spam cubes, and fruit loops. I don't think it can EVER be beaten!) You gotta love that gmail!
Title: FRENCH FRY SPAM CASSEROLE
Categories: Main dish Yield: 8 servings
1 pk Frozen french fry potatoes,-thawed (20 oz)
2 c Shredded Cheddar cheese
2 c Sour cream
1 cn Condensed cream of chicken soup (10 3/4 oz)
1 cn SPAM Luncheon Meat, cubed-(12 oz)
1/2 c Chopped red bell pepper
1/2 c Chopped green onion
1/2 c Finely crushed corn flakes
Heat oven to 350'F. In large bowl, combine potatoes, cheese, sour cream, and soup. Stir in SPAM, bell pepper, and green onion. Spoon into 13x9" baking dish. Sprinkle with crushed flakes. Bake 30-40 minutes or until thoroughly heated.
*******Let me know if you try it*********
Title: FRENCH FRY SPAM CASSEROLE
Categories: Main dish Yield: 8 servings
1 pk Frozen french fry potatoes,-thawed (20 oz)
2 c Shredded Cheddar cheese
2 c Sour cream
1 cn Condensed cream of chicken soup (10 3/4 oz)
1 cn SPAM Luncheon Meat, cubed-(12 oz)
1/2 c Chopped red bell pepper
1/2 c Chopped green onion
1/2 c Finely crushed corn flakes
Heat oven to 350'F. In large bowl, combine potatoes, cheese, sour cream, and soup. Stir in SPAM, bell pepper, and green onion. Spoon into 13x9" baking dish. Sprinkle with crushed flakes. Bake 30-40 minutes or until thoroughly heated.
*******Let me know if you try it*********
celebrate good times, come on!
*NOTE: (If you haven't read my pity party post, either read it before this one, or don't read it at all...)
I just have to say that Jon and I had many fabulous moments in Utah that can't and won't be excluded at the expense of my self-pity. Let's hear it for family, friends, and good times~!
*Pulling up to good ole 1760 Oak Lane with the Furrs was very heartwarming. Davises poured out of the house and hugs were had by all.
*Cabin nights with Jennie and Brig? Divine. The warmth and splendor of great friends is enough to heat even the grinchiest heart....
*Being with all of the Harmons (minus Josh/Anna/Daisy/Clara/Sethster/Lolly/Grompin)? Muy fabuloso (that one was for YOU, Joseph Harmon). It was awesome to see Joe so in LOVE with his woman. Julianne, you're amazing and we're excited to have you in the fam. Also, I hadn't ever seen baby Bella--she's so sweet and mild. I love her spirit, B&B.
*Borg dinner/sleepover/breakfast: delicious, in every sense of the word. And only slightly deliciously tormenting (the knowledge that this was not an eternal sleepover, mingled with the sudden onslaught of my sickness, were the only tormenting factors)....can we please repeat? and soon? Let's plan for the collective 30 party. Collectively.
*Blog lunch: fun, fun, fun, and funny. It was awesome to put names with faces (even though I already knew most of the names and faces....but it's been YEARS, chicas, YEARS! and who would've known that we'd someday merge in Thai Chili?) Thanks for the fun. The picture will be posted. Maybe in a few minutes. Maybe not.
*Sisters night at J&J's house. I'm so glad that I now have 7 sisters! Leah, Sarah, Susannah, Anna, Joanna, Becca, and Julianne, you guys are all such amazing women and great examples in my life. And I think me, Leah, Sarah, and Becca should add anne or anna to our names (Leannah, Saranne, Beccanne, Rachanna...) so that we can fit in.
So, Utah and tahns, we love you. We just had bad luck. And lest you be disappointed and despairing, we'll be back.....February 16th to be exact. Get ready. Get set.
I just have to say that Jon and I had many fabulous moments in Utah that can't and won't be excluded at the expense of my self-pity. Let's hear it for family, friends, and good times~!
*Pulling up to good ole 1760 Oak Lane with the Furrs was very heartwarming. Davises poured out of the house and hugs were had by all.
*Cabin nights with Jennie and Brig? Divine. The warmth and splendor of great friends is enough to heat even the grinchiest heart....
*Being with all of the Harmons (minus Josh/Anna/Daisy/Clara/Sethster/Lolly/Grompin)? Muy fabuloso (that one was for YOU, Joseph Harmon). It was awesome to see Joe so in LOVE with his woman. Julianne, you're amazing and we're excited to have you in the fam. Also, I hadn't ever seen baby Bella--she's so sweet and mild. I love her spirit, B&B.
*Borg dinner/sleepover/breakfast: delicious, in every sense of the word. And only slightly deliciously tormenting (the knowledge that this was not an eternal sleepover, mingled with the sudden onslaught of my sickness, were the only tormenting factors)....can we please repeat? and soon? Let's plan for the collective 30 party. Collectively.
*Blog lunch: fun, fun, fun, and funny. It was awesome to put names with faces (even though I already knew most of the names and faces....but it's been YEARS, chicas, YEARS! and who would've known that we'd someday merge in Thai Chili?) Thanks for the fun. The picture will be posted. Maybe in a few minutes. Maybe not.
*Sisters night at J&J's house. I'm so glad that I now have 7 sisters! Leah, Sarah, Susannah, Anna, Joanna, Becca, and Julianne, you guys are all such amazing women and great examples in my life. And I think me, Leah, Sarah, and Becca should add anne or anna to our names (Leannah, Saranne, Beccanne, Rachanna...) so that we can fit in.
So, Utah and tahns, we love you. We just had bad luck. And lest you be disappointed and despairing, we'll be back.....February 16th to be exact. Get ready. Get set.
1.03.2006
you're invited to my pity party, and then let's celebrate!
Yes. We're back. And yes, we did have some great moments in Utah. However, I just need to vent about why my life half-sucks for the next few minutes, and then I'll move on and be happy as a something. (Why clam? Is there something I'm missing?)
*Leah fell ill on Christmas Eve--like 105 degrees ill. Spent an hour plus in the ER listening to Dr. S. tell me that I should come back when she hits 107. Doesn't that usually signal death, coma, or seizure? Thanks, Doc S. I hope we get you next time we come to the E.R. (He was nice, and I did enjoy asking him a few feeler questions to find out how crazy our "extended neighborhood" really is, but 107?)
*We got stuck near Truckee on I-80 for 3 hours on Christmas night en route to the famous Utah. Leah was barfing and delirious. Esther was screaming and delirious. Jon and I were just plain delirious. We couldn't find anything to eat. We traveled an extra 20 minutes to find a Taco Bell that someone at Chevron said they heard on the radio was the only joint open in Reno. Closed. We did, however, score Wendy's drive-thru in Carlin, NV, where the guy we ordered from inadvertantly told us that the guy in the van behind us (my bro-in-law) was a moron--they were having MAJOR headset/speaker issues that night. When I told him that was my bro-in-law and simaltaneoulsy handed him the $3.00-Christmas-night-Wendy's-drive-thru-guy tip (downsized quickly by a dollar after that comment), he profusely apologized. Sorry, it didn't win you your extra dollar back, buddy!
*I somehow manage to offend a few people on day 2. My "gentle honesty" policy isn't working these days.
*Esther wakes up grumpy and gagging on day 3. Is she barfing? Trying to. That makes two excessively whining children and two excessively grumpy/exhausted parents.
*Rachel goes to bed at 2:30 am on day 4 with a near-fainting spell, swollen glands, and chills. She wakes up on day 5 with full-blown something----stuffy head, chills, sore body, runny and alternatively stuffy nose, FLU? Thanks, darling daughters! I can now feel your pain.
*Rachel goes to PF Changs for family adults-only dinner despite illness, and ends up openly sobbing due to illness, exhaustion, and other generalized and unknown issues. (Thanks, Joe and Leah, for saving the day with your medicines and back rubs....)
*Today, Rachel realizes she's kooky for using 3rd person in blog post.
*I checked weather.com before leaving on day 7, and found out that our 10-hour trip home was going to be altered..."80 closed in both directions, 12-24 inches of snow expected. Rock slides, mud slides. Carry water and heavy blankets." No thanks. I-15 will do--with heavy and heinous Vegas traffic; the crustiest Burger King bathroom known to mankind; rubbing Leah's sore butt cheeks from sitting so long; playing the "i-told-you-we-should've-bought-a-dvd-player" card to jon as we passed many an suv or minivan with built-in movies, and i'm sure, perfectly content children; listening to Esther's jurassic screams of desperation; monsoon rains; and thankfully, a little cardboard box of red vines.
*Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that my sickness brought with it: 3 disgusting cold sores, 2 big fat zits, and a partridge in a pear tree. My face is a war zone.
*So I was ticked today, looking at the spoils of our pre-christmas scramble to get off and away on our "vacation." Wrapping paper scraps and silver ribbons are stashed here and there in the office, our tree, majestically dead, in the peace room.....I wish I could snap my fingers and it would all go away.
BUT--as I was wallowing in my self-pity and trying to figure out why this new year seemed so tragically flawed already, I went to the bathroom and (sorry for the details, but they're so tantamount to this experience!) noticed my "rainbow of deliverance" (thanks marge piercy for the line). Oh, so this is why I have so many zits and I'm feeling bloated, and I've got low-grade anger towards my husband and children? Oh. That's it. I guess I can be happy now. And it was almost that simple. Until I got mad that it was so obvious that I am a victim of my hormones. And now I think I want to ask Susannah to give me back the Bath and Body Works PMS Kit that I gave her last week for her birthday. I think I'm the new queen of that scene.
And so, my dear friends, I had a LOVELY time in Utah, filled with some wonderfully remarkable moments. And, to do them their own justice, I will write them in their own post, not mingled with this debbie-downer-ness. over and out.
*Leah fell ill on Christmas Eve--like 105 degrees ill. Spent an hour plus in the ER listening to Dr. S. tell me that I should come back when she hits 107. Doesn't that usually signal death, coma, or seizure? Thanks, Doc S. I hope we get you next time we come to the E.R. (He was nice, and I did enjoy asking him a few feeler questions to find out how crazy our "extended neighborhood" really is, but 107?)
*We got stuck near Truckee on I-80 for 3 hours on Christmas night en route to the famous Utah. Leah was barfing and delirious. Esther was screaming and delirious. Jon and I were just plain delirious. We couldn't find anything to eat. We traveled an extra 20 minutes to find a Taco Bell that someone at Chevron said they heard on the radio was the only joint open in Reno. Closed. We did, however, score Wendy's drive-thru in Carlin, NV, where the guy we ordered from inadvertantly told us that the guy in the van behind us (my bro-in-law) was a moron--they were having MAJOR headset/speaker issues that night. When I told him that was my bro-in-law and simaltaneoulsy handed him the $3.00-Christmas-night-Wendy's-drive-thru-guy tip (downsized quickly by a dollar after that comment), he profusely apologized. Sorry, it didn't win you your extra dollar back, buddy!
*I somehow manage to offend a few people on day 2. My "gentle honesty" policy isn't working these days.
*Esther wakes up grumpy and gagging on day 3. Is she barfing? Trying to. That makes two excessively whining children and two excessively grumpy/exhausted parents.
*Rachel goes to bed at 2:30 am on day 4 with a near-fainting spell, swollen glands, and chills. She wakes up on day 5 with full-blown something----stuffy head, chills, sore body, runny and alternatively stuffy nose, FLU? Thanks, darling daughters! I can now feel your pain.
*Rachel goes to PF Changs for family adults-only dinner despite illness, and ends up openly sobbing due to illness, exhaustion, and other generalized and unknown issues. (Thanks, Joe and Leah, for saving the day with your medicines and back rubs....)
*Today, Rachel realizes she's kooky for using 3rd person in blog post.
*I checked weather.com before leaving on day 7, and found out that our 10-hour trip home was going to be altered..."80 closed in both directions, 12-24 inches of snow expected. Rock slides, mud slides. Carry water and heavy blankets." No thanks. I-15 will do--with heavy and heinous Vegas traffic; the crustiest Burger King bathroom known to mankind; rubbing Leah's sore butt cheeks from sitting so long; playing the "i-told-you-we-should've-bought-a-dvd-player" card to jon as we passed many an suv or minivan with built-in movies, and i'm sure, perfectly content children; listening to Esther's jurassic screams of desperation; monsoon rains; and thankfully, a little cardboard box of red vines.
*Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that my sickness brought with it: 3 disgusting cold sores, 2 big fat zits, and a partridge in a pear tree. My face is a war zone.
*So I was ticked today, looking at the spoils of our pre-christmas scramble to get off and away on our "vacation." Wrapping paper scraps and silver ribbons are stashed here and there in the office, our tree, majestically dead, in the peace room.....I wish I could snap my fingers and it would all go away.
BUT--as I was wallowing in my self-pity and trying to figure out why this new year seemed so tragically flawed already, I went to the bathroom and (sorry for the details, but they're so tantamount to this experience!) noticed my "rainbow of deliverance" (thanks marge piercy for the line). Oh, so this is why I have so many zits and I'm feeling bloated, and I've got low-grade anger towards my husband and children? Oh. That's it. I guess I can be happy now. And it was almost that simple. Until I got mad that it was so obvious that I am a victim of my hormones. And now I think I want to ask Susannah to give me back the Bath and Body Works PMS Kit that I gave her last week for her birthday. I think I'm the new queen of that scene.
And so, my dear friends, I had a LOVELY time in Utah, filled with some wonderfully remarkable moments. And, to do them their own justice, I will write them in their own post, not mingled with this debbie-downer-ness. over and out.
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