Speaking Of Breakfast...

In a concerted effort to convince The Hubs that there is, indeed, more to breakfast than coffee from 7-11 and two peanut butter cookies, I have been practicing the art of the muffin. Today I bring you an extremely nutritious and yummalicious recipe for what I will go so far as to call the perfect bran muffin. The original recipe was given to me by my Mom, and was further modified (changes to original recipe indicated in parentheses) by yours truly as a means of amping up the wholesome goodness to cater to the specific needs of the Casa G. in light of the fact that The Prodigy is pre-diabetic. And who also, for some strange reason unbeknownst to me, has shown sudden leanings to the right-wing world of vegetarianism. Pshhhheah...gimme a steak, biatch! But, in an effort to accommodate and promote healthful eating habits, I am being supportive and uhm...stuff.

So, yeah.

Without further ado, the recipe!



Cranberry Walnut Bran Muffins

3/4c Bran (RAW bran, NOT bran cereal. Found in the cooked cereal aisle.)
3/4c Flour (Recipe calls for white, I used 100% Whole Wheat)
3/4c Granulated Sugar (I used 1/2c Splenda's sugar blend, plenty sweet enough)
1 1/2tsp Spice (ie: cinnamon, cloves, allspice or pumpkin pie spice, to your taste)
1tsp Baking Powder
1tsp Baking Soda
1/2 tsp Salt
1/2c dried cranberries (any dried fruit works well, such as blueberries or raisins)
1/2c chopped walnuts (or pecans)

1c Canned Pumpkin (100% pumpkin, NOT pie filling)
2 large eggs
1/3c vegetable oil
1c plain yogurt (I used 8th Continent UNFLAVORED Soy Milk, Buttermilk works well too)


Combine dry ingredients in one bowl. Mix wet ingredients in another bowl until thoroughly mixed. Form a 'well' in the center of the dry ingredients and pour the wet ingredients in the center of the well. Mix until just combined. Spoon batter into muffin tins lightly sprayed with Pam until approximately 2/3 full. (An ice cream scoop works well.)

Bake in a 400 degree oven for approximately 25 minutes or until center of muffin is firm to the touch. Remove from the oven and allow to cool completely inside of muffin tins.

This recipe yields 12 muffins and is easily doubled.

Enjoy!

p.s. "Do as I say and not as I do" being the creed to which we live by at the Casa G., I still partake of the breakfast Diet Coke while they eat these super moist and delicious muffins. Because I can. Because I said so. I did, however, give up the ugly cigarette habit so that has to count for something; right?

So there.

Breakfast Of Champions

My life, she is officially complete.



See Dad? It's more than just a Hooker's breakfast when accompanied by a cigarette! It is now nutritional! It has earned it's place in the food pyramid!

Oh, Diet Coke, how I love thee. Let me count the ways...

That is all. As you were.

You Kids Get Off My lawn, Y'hear?!

The Hubs and I had the occasion to be out late Friday night (a very unusual event for us..and by late I am sure I mean far earlier than most, considering I am usually in the land of dreams by 10:00pm or so. A wild child, this one.)and as I am wont to do, I had him stop so that I could get myself a coffee to have on the way home. I love coffee in the car a great deal. I love coffee in the car in the evening more, for entirely different reasons, as I was sure to point out to the Hubs.

Me: Hubs, I love coffee in the car, at night. It brings to mind road trips of yore. I love a good road trip Hubs, we should plan one!

TH: We are too old for a road trip Dee.

Me: Are not! Dude, you have GOT to quit referring to us as old! You're killin me here!

TH: Dee, we ARE old. We're like...arctic cruise old!

Me: You call me old one more time, Mother Fkucer, and you'll know arctic. You have yet to see the depths to which frigid can descend, my friend. Consider that your warning. Now take me home. I'm tired and my arthritis is acting up.


.

In Which I Wax Maudlin

Saturday night at about midnight as The Hubs and I lay in bed, he grumbling about the TV being on while I watched two entirely flamboyant homosexual men pay an exorbitant amount of money to have their kitchen renovated (Which? Some seriously hot bedroom action to choose to write about, wouldn't you agree?), we had a conversation that is not at all uncommon for us. The Hubs HATES when I have the TV or the light on when he is trying to go to sleep. He pisses and moans like the big baby that he is, while I tell him to shhhhh, shush and eventually; shaddup. Reading in bed like I LOVE to do? Out of the question. It just doesn't happen in my house. He starts by asking me to turn out the light and ends up with infuriatingly repeating the words mantra-style and flicking the back of my book. He did give me pause this time, however, and I finally conceded defeat and shut off the damn TV. (Or so he thinks. The show had ended. And the kitchen? Gorgeous.)

He turned over and said: "Dee, I am nearly FORTY YEARS OLD and it is time to go to sleep."

FORTY YEARS OLD.

Can you imagine? Now, he just celebrated his 37th birthday last week, but he is right. He is very nearly forty years old and while that might not seem like that big a deal to some of you, it made my breath catch. For a number of reasons. Not the least of which is the fact that I am fifteen months older than him.

Exactly...which means I will be forty just that much sooner.

Forty Years Old.

You know, I've been giving that whole thing some thought. And it really does not bother me much, the idea of the big 4-0. I love my life. I love where I am in my life and I love the positive changes being made in my life. It is an amazing thing to me. I can honestly say I am at a point in my life that far supersedes where I once thought I would be, and that is amazing to me.

What absolutely shocks me about this though, is how UN-forty-ish I feel. I mean, I don't fancy myself a twenty-something or anything like that, but I am amazed at how little difference there is in the mentality of the last couple decades. I just don't FEEL any older. (Although suddenly, in using the term DECADES, I may have to rethink this post entirely.) I feel much wiser, much more level headed and much more accomplished, certainly, but with those feelings does not come the sense of aging.

It was very recent, as a matter of fact at the Spring Break Nationals in Daytona beach, that I looked down at the crowd walking along perusing the competing vehicles; and it occurred to me that I belonged in a different age category than most of the people there. And it came as a shock. Not an unpleasant one, but still, a shock.

Here's hoping that I can hit that landmark gracefully. And perhaps even have another forty to follow these ones. Hopefully they are as sweet.

As an aside though, I wish my body had the same set as my mind, because IT sure isn't the same as when I was twenty.

The dirty-rotten, betraying bitch that it is.

Giving A Shout Out To Those (far) More Talented Than I

Last time I updated, I promised to share with you some of my daily reads, the very ones which distract me from my own sorry little space on this vast Internet. They are varied, for sure. I hope you enjoy.

Without further ado, I bring you that which entertains...

Rock Star Mommy. Invariably, I am amused by her wit and scathing sense of humor. K has become a friend over the course of the past year or so, through interaction on her blog, via email and a crazy group of women bloggers that somehow developed a friendship outside (and because of) her blog, of which I am a part of. One day, hopefully this June, I will have the opportunity to meet this "Cuboreankraut" dynamo. She tries to come across as all hard-assed and rock star, but in reality she is a clearly devoted wife and mother who has overcome more than her fair share of hardship. Granted, allot of it was self induced over the years on the way to growing up, but she has come through it nicely. Just don't tell her I made any mention of her being anything but hardcore, alright?

Mimi Smartypants. I forget how I stumbled across this blog but it brings the humor. Always entertaining, Mimi writes her blog extremely well and is a published author, I believe as a direct result of what started here. Talented, this one.

Greek Tragedy. Stephanie Klein, the author of this blog, has oft been compared to Sarah Jessica Parker of Sex and The City fame; as she regales you with stories of mating and dating in NYC after an ugly divorce. She is also a published author as a result of hard work and the fame brought by blogging, (or infamy, as some would profess) and is currently working on her second book and a sitcom for one of the major networks. Now married and the mother to (GORGEOUS) twins, the past few years of Stephanie's life has read like an interactive soap opera and has made for some great reading.

Amalah. This was the first blog I ever had the pleasure of reading and I still read it daily. The girl is funny, witty and more than just a little crazy. She also authors or co-authors several other blogs, all of which you can link to on her blog.

That is a sampling of some of the more entertaining ones that I read regularly. If you are so inclined, you can click on the highlighted names to take you to each, I am sure you'll find something there that will make you smile.

And now, I'll share with you a couple that are amazingly written, poignant, humbling and share more than a little of life's struggles. I am reminded to be thankful for each and every one of life's blessings when I read these. Enjoy.

From The Mountain Top. Here you will find an extremely well written and heartfelt account of what life is like as the mother of a micro-preemie as Christy shares with you her son Elias. She is an amazing person with an amazing set of circumstances that brings to light a lot of things that most people would never give thought to. I am always uplifted by her writing and really cant speak highly enough about her. Her son, Elias, is quite possibly one of the most gorgeous little guys you will ever lay eyes on. You are guaranteed to take something of value with you when you read her thoughts.

Dan and Leanne. Although I have very recently discovered this blog, it is one that I check daily for updates. It is an account of one young family's struggles with lymphoma and is very seriously the best written and most touching blog I have read to date. Dan's accounts of life since his wife's diagnosis and the love that is conveyed through his writing will bring you to your knees with grief and with hope for them. You really must go read it. And if you are of the praying variety, please do so for this family. I do so, daily.

A Woman Of many Parts. Another harrowing story of life with cancer, Minerva's blog will make you eternally grateful for everything you take for granted. Well written and always educational, this gives you a different insight about a disease that affects so many people. I forget how I came across this blog but again, it is one I check daily and another person I pray for continually.

I will leave you with those for now, I hope you derive some of the same things that I do from them. Enjoy.

In other news, let me share with you what NOT to do when attempting to sear a roast. trust me.



That, my friends, is a nice little burn as a result of smoking hot oil splashing onto my arm. And I didn't even cuss. But only because I was on the phone with my Mom when it happened. Please disregard entirely the extremely unattractive view of the inside crook of my right elbow.

Until next time....

In Which There Is No Excuse But Laziness

I am feeling better. Thanks Kait, for inquiring. I haven't, however, lost my affinity for being a lazy ass who thinks to herself daily: 'Blog? Meh...it'll keep for another day' and then wiling away her free time by reading all the blogs of other, more interesting people she loves to partake of.

So, there ya have it. No excuse is my only excuse.

And since the highlight of my week is a funny that happened at Costco with The Leester last Friday afternoon, which I will share with you because holy HELL was it hilarious, afterwards I intend to direct you to some of my favorite daily reads. And then you can see how easy it is to be distracted and pulled away from my accidental anecdotes like I am. But just make sure you come back okay? Please? I'll miss you!

*ahem*

So anyways, we were wandering around and doing a bit of shopping and since I was still recovering from the flu I wanted nothing more than a new pair of pyjamas, which is a point of consternation with my husband to begin with, as he claims that half my wardrobe is made up of pyjamas. So, the conversation went down much like this:

Me: Oooh, I see they have new jammies, lemme go see.
TL: Alright...*sigh*
Me: Im reluctant to even mention jammies cause I know how you feel about them.
TL: They make up more than half your wardrobe Dee, you may as well run with it at this point.
Me: Yeah, yeah...shaddup. I'll let you help me pick.
TL: Oh, joy. (Not an ounce of sarcasm, as I am sure you guessed)
Me: Come on honey...
TL: If you want jammies, get jammies. (clearly just being nice cause I have been sick, which is as close as we get to sympathy in my house. Trust me. This was a true concession on his part.)

Upon making our way to the table heavily laden with the springy goodness of cotton florals and plaids, I hold up two options. A night shirt and a two piece capri set.

TL: Not that night gown thing...it screams old lady. If you have to get some, get the other ones.
Me: Okay, which pattern? Floral or plaid?
TL: I dont give a shit.
Me: Just pick.
TL: Not the flowers.
Me: You sure you dont like this night shirt?
TL: HATE.
Me: Oh come on baby, Grandma-flauge doesn't do it for you?

I almost pee'd my pants, laughing at my incredible wit. So did the lady who overheard the entire conversation.

Grandma-flauge. Bahahahaha. I kill me!

So...about those links. Or rather, about that whole laziness thing. I'll give you the links tomorrow. I don't feel like it today.

Ciao!

In Which The Influenza Shows Me Exactly Who Is Boss

*cough, sputter, wheeze*

Let me just preface this by saying, I don't know how I ever smoked. Ever. My God. My lungs? They have risen up and retaliated, by making me feel like I am drowning, with every gasping, fledgling breath that I take. They curse the years that I used to suck on those marlboro lights, scoffing at me...screaming "See? We warned you!"

Yes, truly. That bad.

So...aside from that? How have you been? Good? Great! Glad to hear it! No, really.

*cough, cough.*

The Spring break nationals? They come, they go. The first of many car audio competitions this year, I am informed. The husband? In a shallow grave in someones back yard. I dare you to try and make me divulge where. Thats all I'm saying about that.

Goldilocks? Still in the nursing home, in her arm brace/cast thingy for another four weeks. And let me tell you, she is rivaling the best of the best, in regards to bitchiness.

Me? I am studying like a fool, in preparation for the post secondary education of my....golden years? Wild. That's all I'm saying about that, too.

The prodigy? Excels, with regards to that whole report card/honor roll thing. Wonder what they can do about the whole eye-rolling, teenaged attitude business.

UGH!

Talk to you soon, my friends.

Happy Spring!