Now that all four of my children are away at college, and by away, I mean the closest one is three hours away and the furthest is 2000 miles away, the days of cooking for six are finished—at least on a regular basis. Not only did I cook for six, but they demanded leftovers.
No beatin’ around the thesis bush (no pun intended) today: With every passing rotten natural development that befalls the human body, from adolescence to death, females suffer in extreme disproportion to men.
Here we are, nearing the end of the second semester of the first year of the first of our four children’s evacuation from the nest. I didn’t write about the halfway point, in January, because I didn’t feel like wallowing. Now, I’m in the post-spring-break funk.
I’m getting right to the point; no beating around the bush (pun intended). The world needs safewords in everyday situations—now more than ever. To be clear, I’m brand spanking new to the whole concept of safewords, but I know there’s no wading in gently, and by gently, I mean very painfully.
Don’t wait until the last minute to plan your meal, from menus to which flavor of pain you are in the mood for this year. In-laws or immediate family? Siblings or cousins? Neighbors or workmates? Ham, or turducken (a turkey, stuffed with a duck, that’s been stuffed with a chicken.)
Here we are, up to our aspics in the holiday season. Most of the country is still high on Black Friday savings from all those zeros we rolled up and smoked (legally) after not handing them over to store clerks for slippers, scarves, and waffle irons. What an amazing time of year. Puff, puff, save!
I like to cook. But I’m a busy person. For most of my meals, I try to come up with something that’s made from scratch, with ingredients that were grown, and/or raised humanely. I stay away from overly processed foods about 90% of the time. Here’s a few examples of my most popular half-scratch meals.
Regardless of what kind of job you have, getting dinner on the table when you are a busy parent is no easy task, but it’s not impossible. I also cook from scratch as much as possible. Here’s a few tips on how to get homemade-ish meals on the table that your family will love.
Now that I’m reaching the twenty-five-twice mark (it’s my age and I’ll describe it in my terms) I’ve become fond of eating real, healthy food, 90% of the time. What I do the other 10% of the time is mine, and I own it. But if I can make good choices most of the time, I’m good.
This morning, I got out of bed. To make matters worse, I decided to bake something, at the ungodly hour of 6:30 a.m. I hate baking for one reason: I don’t like to measure. I’ll make a sauce, throw together a stew or soup, all without benefit of measuring a single thing.