A Fine Specimen, Indeed!

Quite arresting, isn't it? Poor guy, he's missing all the important parts, like his head for one. Oh, you thought I was going to talk about his missing man-ish parts? Yes, that's very important too. But I marvel at this sculpture because you don't notice so much what he doesn't have (sorta) but more at what is left. Simply beautiful...and really old.

"Lauren, tell me where you find such ruined beauty," you say? Well, it's at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, right here in Kansas City. Admission is free and the food is INSANELY good at the Rozzelle Court restaurant, which is located in the heart of the museum.You find yourself sitting in a 15th century courtyard which was flown in from Italy. Pretty impressive.

Speaking of food, this is what I ate that day, (yes, a day which was child-free, thanks to my mom) which was a vegetarian Mediterranean salad. So unique. Actually, it was quite inspiring, as far as a salad goes. It had marinated mushrooms, in which I detected a hint of wine, cooked and chilled asparagus, cold, roasted potatoes (which I was expecting to be weird and mealy, but where not), and creamy feta and roasted peppers. And of course, some salty, make-you-bloat-two-dress-sizes-right-in-you-chair kalamata olives. Divine.

 

I'm always quite intrigued by any painting or sculpture of the Madonna and Christ child. I mean, I find the artwork on the subject quite strange and wonderful at the same time. Most of the time Mary looks really bored and sometimes even annoyed by her God-incarnate child. According to the description of this sculpture, this is a very tender rendering of the two, in that Christ touching his mother's cheek, shows a very intimate and connected bond between the two. Hmmm. I see it, but it's very different from how I see moms (including myself) love on their kids nowadays.  We snuggle and nibble, sniff and tickle their necks and ribs, toes and cheeks. I want to see a painting of Mary and Jesus like that, because that's how I believe it really was.

Take a look at this beauty. More than anything else that I have to say about this sculpture is that I cannot get past how the sculptor was able to make marble look like soft, silky, drape-y, fabric. How it clings to her body and billows out below- simply incredible.

I have been coming to this museum since I was a young girl. In my heart, this is the birthplace of my love of art. I can spend hours gazing at the familiar artwork that has become like old friends. The shape that this sculpture creates is so different than most really old sculptures. She's not merely standing there holding a pot, or regally posing with a crown, but instead, you feel like you've caught her in the act of her daily ritual of adorning herself with flowers, in the woods somewhere.

  But what I like most is that she is smiling.

This painting reminds me of my grandma. She looks eerily like her and she is also a woman of the same decent as my grandma- a Southern Italian. Looking at her eyes stirs curiosity over what she is daydreaming about. As my gaze floats down the painting, I am distracted by the sheen on the pearls around her neck. How did the painter capture such realism? And the folds in her blouse? Oh, that I could someday capture something so simple with such immaculate detail. It's so inspiring.

 

These two love birds are embracing one another after the hunka-hunka man killed a boar. It lays dead in the background. But what I couldn't seem to get over was the enormity of both the lover's hands. They were GINORMOUS! Even though the artist translated the dainty aspects of a woman's hand, it could have easily palmed a basketball the size of a small elephant! Of course, I do take into account that the statue itself is nearly 9 to 10 foot high. Had that statue come to life and given me a high-5, I would be typing with one hand right now...the other would still be lying on the floor of the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art.

Oh, how the mind wanders. Well, I hope you enjoyed this little tour, and truly, it was little. There is so much to experience at this great museum. If you are in town, you simply must visit, have a leisurely lunch and fill you quota for art appreciation.

Love Ya, Foodies!

P.s. Monet's (http://anecdotesandapples.weebly.com/) brother-in-law is in his own room now and talking! He is still unaware of what has happened. Pray for continued strength for him and his son.

The Compulsion to Create

 

 Creativity is invigorating.

Being a mom can be really hard at times. Each mom is forced to deal with her special mix of issues, created by her special mix of kids (not to mention her special mix of self). Somedays, by no fault of their own, the kids run me into the ground. With a sprinkling of PMS and a bad night's sleep, incessant questions and tantrums, doctor's visits and therapy sessions, grocery store runs and playdates, and last but not least piles of laundry on top of piles of dishes, after which you clean up you then have to make dinner!...well you get the picture, and moms, if you are reading this your saying, "Ehmmm. I LIVE in that picture."

 Tantrum.

I've always been a creative person, from as far back as I can remember. Most of my first memories are of drawing or crafting in some fashion. So when life gets overwhelming, there is nothing better than creating or growing something. Both things introduce life and life is one of the happiest things there is.

When you grow or make something, whether it's a sprouting tomato seedling or simply doodling for the sake of doodling, there is a satisfaction that washes over me and it refreshes me. Sometimes just gazing at those little sprouts breathes life into this weary mommy.

Aren't my baby sprouts the cutest? I love how they crave light. They uniformly lean their little slender bodies towards the slightest bit of light. I like to change things up and turn them around, just so I can watch them move again.

Maybe it's because I'm so desperate for Spring, or maybe it's because I need a mommy break badly. But I find myself craving to create like it's a drug. Anything! I don't care what it is. I put a puzzle together for the first time in years, a couple of weeks ago. It was so much fun!

 Did I ever tell you I love all things Alice in Wonderland? Well, I do -since I was very small. It's currently in the works to turn my kitchen into a Wonderland kitchen. I will have to do a post on that...

Here's the rub: when you are rundown, tired, overwhelmed or frustrated, taking that time to sit down and create something can be yet, another thing on your to-do list. And instead of becoming an oasis that it was intended to be, you find it annoying. BUT, if you flip it, view it as a "spa time" for you, and only do something YOU want to do, (this kind of creative spa time does NOT include the following: putting together a toy for your kid, doing a science fair project, or trying to figure a "creative" way to keep the cat from pooping in your potted plants) and the great thing is that it could be as simple as taking some pictures of the budding trees in your backyard, or tying a bright pink ribbon in your ponytail or hanging that picture in your dining room that you know will just "make it".

But if you have a little extra zing that day, whether it be from an extra cup of coffee or your mom has the kids for the day (or even an hour), don't spend that time doing laundry! Use it to feed you. I often times find that the most impromptu creative moments are the best. They are so surprising and leave me with a glow all day.

It's in our nature to create, as humans. I think it's the ultimate high. It's where I most find God. Creativity is like my secret door to the secret clubhouse that God and I have together. In that tiny window of time, I'm co-creating with Him. It stirs conversations and healing. It awakens hope in some of dark corners of my heart. It relieves the burdens I continually choose to carry and reminds me that He will gladly carry them for me...all while doodling my latest idea for the kitchen decor or pressing tiny seeds into a planter to grow, He speaks.

I love that creativity is not bound by rules. It is what you want it to be. Its an indulging of the heart. There is no right or wrong. It could be baking a pie or painting a mural. Sometimes just breaking the ground for where your garden will go, can be as thrilling as a final stroke on a painting or piano key.

And then there is the creating in the midst of chaos, which can be the "quiet" you are looking for. Even when the kids are screaming and running, or my Tiny is tearing up the tupperware drawer for the 19th time that day, I will make a pie. I know, it seems nuts, but I don't have the luxury of always waiting for the "perfect moment" to create. Often times, it's more like a quick fire challenge on Top Chef than as leisure pie baking session with grandma. It's occupying the kids in smashing the graham crackers to smithereens so I can make the custard...but I'm still creating and loving it.

The other day, I was cleaning up the kitchen to make yet another mess and I laughed to myself as I cleaned up the oils and ingredients for my cosmetic making endeavors, the potting soil from the seed planting and the paints from the kid's craft time. As soon as I got that all away, I was reaching for the cutting board to start dinner. So my kitchen (as I'm sure yours is as well) is not only a kitchen, but a science lab, greenhouse and an art studio. The thought of that makes me so happy.



I also wanted to follow-up with you concerning the last post, Potatoes and Prayers. If you have not heard, Monet's sister passed last night and joined her son in heaven. It's such a tremendous loss. If you have not, please stop by her blog (http://anecdotesandapples.weebly.com/) and flood her with support. We love you, Monet. This photo I took the other day, made me think of your sister today.

Love ya, Foodies!

Potatoes and Prayers

I would like to cook my friend a meal. I would like to cook one for her entire family- a family who has walked through so much the past few years that it's hard to imagine.

We foodies generally show our love and affection and our nurturing spirits through the food we cook. But unfortunately, all I can do for this friend is pray and sit and wait for her updates regarding her family.

That friend is Monet.

Many of you already know Monet through her inspiring, descriptive and delicious blog (http://anecdotesandapples.weebly.com) where her words are as intoxicating as the food she makes. Even more than that, is the love that Monet spreads everywhere her written word appears. Her kind words and sweet spirit have lifted my heart more than a few times.

I've never met Monet in person, yet I feel such a connection with her as I know so many others do. So when I heard about the tragic accident that happened over the weekend to her sister and her sister's husband as well as her two nephews, I was shocked. How much more can this family endure? (read here, http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/pamandmikebrown)

So I sat staring at my computer screen, trying to make sense of what has happened to this family. "Why?" is the knee-jerk reaction. I think of Japan. "Why?" I scramble for a reason, something that comforts, something that hushes the deep questions that resonate inside when I hear about tragedy. It shakes my core. It throws a shattering piece of shrapnel through my spirit. Why this family? God seems so unfeeling. He seems so far away when this kind of news emerges. Is it because it's true or because we see only bits and pieces of the plan?

We cling to cliches like, "God is good...all the time" or "there's a reason for everything", yet none of us know what that reason is. Yes, at times, later on -sometimes much later on- we can see clearer and see some sort of Divine artistry, but at that moment of raw impact, we are left broken and hopeless and finding taking our next breath difficult and at times, less than desirable.

Sometimes things get worse. Sometimes they get very worse before they get better (pardon yet another cliche). And then, yes, then a crack starts to develop in the wall of protection we have carefully and vigilantly built around ourselves. A fissure that comes bearing a painful proposition...hope.

"Hope?" the heart blurts out, in hot anger and weary frustration. "No, I'm quite comfortable here in my cocoon of despair that I have created. And besides, Hope will require me to believe for better."

The heart desires Hope, regardless of what it may say or how it reacts. The heart lives for hope. It's how one reaches the shore of a land they cannot see or it's how a woman gives those final pushes in birth, when there is seemingly no strength left. Either hope of a new life or hope of a new life.

In this case, where that "new life" may begin is not ours to choose. It may begin in heaven, where all is healed and all is fresh or it may start again here on earth where a road to recovery is slow and hard yet victorious, either way, we are required to let go in some form.

And so we pray, we weep, we try to stuff the questions that arise away. We reach out, we help, we give, trying to bring some comfort. And it does. Because the most precious gift we can give to a family in this situation is support. When a community surrounds you, you no longer feel alone. You know you can take another step, even if it's scary or you don't know where the road leads, you can do it because others are around you. You see God's hands through those who feed you, wipe away your tears and hold you.


You may think it strange that I am incorporating potatoes into this rather deep Foodie House post. Well, I'm inspired by the way Monet writes and how she can creatively work a experience or story in with her recipes.

So Monet, if you are reading this, I would make these potatoes for you. Of course, not just potatoes, dear friend, I would cook you a whole meal, but these would be the comfort factor. I'm sure what you and your family are eating right now consists of cafeteria food and vending machine cuisine. How I wish I could come and bring you and your sweet family food, lots of hugs and a hand to hold...and maybe a pot roast.

These potatoes are homey and rustic. I simply crisped up the potato rounds in lots of olive oil and butter, thyme and rosemary.

 

 Crispy Rustic Potatoes

2 russet potatoes, baked

2 tbsp. olive oil

1 tbsp. butter

3-4 sprigs fresh thyme

2 sprigs fresh rosemary

salt and pepper

 

Heat pan over medium heat with olive oil and butter. Add herbs and let them perfume the oils. Add slices of potato, season with salt and pepper and leave it for a good 5 minutes. Do not flip until dark golden brown and very crispy. Do the same on the other side. Serve with the herbs, for they are salty and crispy...delicious. 

So here is my challenge to you readers, share this link with others. Share the Caring Bridge link above with others. Let's get the word to get out. I want there to be an outpouring of love and support. Whether it's praying or donating (you can donate on Monet's blog or on the Caring Bridge site) or any other creative way you can think of.  Let's lift this family up and breath hope into these weary hearts.

Love ya, Foodies.

Her Kitchen Reeked...of Chaos

The dishes sat in the sink mocking her.

"Yup, we're going to be extra crusty in the morning," the cookie sheet said as it nudged the mixing bowl.

"Yeah, crusty dishes plus her coffee breath equals a grumpy mommy, " the mixing bowl mused. "You know how she hates the smell of her own coffee breath."

A coffee mug, buried deep beneath everyone, mumbled something but no one could quite make it out. And no one bothered to ask it to repeat itself.

A spoon poked it's head out to see if anyone had been loaded into the dishwasher. When it saw that everyone was still in the sink, it slowly lowered itself back down into it's hole for the night.

She had given up tonight. Normally, dishes were not left in the sink until morning, but tonight was different. She threw down the dish rag and simply walked away.

On top of that, everything seemed to need de-cluttering. The fridge was over-loaded with her children's artwork, coupons, birthday cards, invitations, to-do lists and moments of inspiration, jotted down on a scraps of napkin. She had gotten so used to looking at it, that she didn't realize how cluttered it had become until she took this picture.

She felt overwhelmed. That's why the dishes did not get done...among other things.


And this was a strawberry rhubarb pie that she was so excited about making that, though looking full of potential here, ended up accidentally under-cooked (she didn't take the time to carefully read the cooking time instructions...probably because her kitchen was in such utter chaos) and left a rather chewy, fibrous feeling in the mouth. Yet another reason she felt deflated and unenthusiastic about cleaning.

She felt very embarrassed as she wrote this post and hesitated to post it, but posted it nonetheless. The process of creativity is not always a pretty one.

Oh yes, and three other little reasons why she sometimes leaves the dishes in the sink, under-bakes a pie and dives head-first into a chocolate bar. But would she have it any other way? Most certainly not.

Now where's the chocolate?

Love Ya, Foodies!

My Film Debut, Dahhhhling!

I could sit here and moan and complain about how we continue to get bouts of sickness around here and how sick I am of being sick....

But instead I'm going to tell you about a little something special that happened to me a few weeks back.

I got an email one day, mid-January, from Alexa at Foodbuzz. She approached me with a quite delightful offer. She would fly out from San Fransisco to come to my little house in Kansas City, coordinate to have a PROFESSIONAL videographer show up, and have me star in two mini videos on how to make a video featuring Newman's Own products. Is there anything here I would object to? No.

A week later (yes, ridiculously fast) I welcomed Alexa and Adam (the videographer) into my mom's house- for she has a much cuter kitchen than I- and we set up to do these two super fun, silly and carefree videos to be sent out to bloggers in Foodbuzz's Tastemaker program.

Both videos are around 2-3 minutes in length. Take a gander!

In this video, I throw together a delish pasta dish, featuring Newman's Own Sockerooni Sauce. I also do some silly things that are about as cheesy as the Parmesan cheese that I sprinkle over the hot rigatoni.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OhyAaQseYIo

And in this video I make a super easy salad to go along with a Newman's Own Thin and Crispy Pizza. This one is even sillier and I show you what to wear and what not to wear in a video of your own. My mom made sure her stockpile of vintage clothing and accessories were available for our use in these videos.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O9IsWY-VjBg

It really made me feel so special that they chose me to do this project. Here I was thinking that Foodbuzz hated my Emergency Cake video for Project Food Blog, since that was the round I got sacked, but oh, contrare, they loved my video and chose me to do these Newman Videos based on that ridiculousness.

I'm used to setting up my little video camera on a precarious, teeter-y tripod, hitting "record" and jumping in front of it, to make my cheesy little cooking videos. I'm used to doing hours of editing and spewing very heated words under my breath until the video is done. I'm used to losing videos, videos not uploading and more than a fair share of "glitches in the matrix". This time? All I had to do was be in front of the camera. I didn't have to do any of that other crap. 

See these two right here? Aren't they just darling? Alexa and Adam. Alexa was like a breath of fresh air, energetic and full of ideas and fun. Alexa and I were chatting like two high school friends, voicing ideas and thoughts, laughing our butts off and trying to focus on the task. Adam was laid back, super calm and just as sweet as he could be. That giant camera of his was staring me in the eyeball, stirring up a bit of nervousness, but Adam had this zen way about him, even the way he counted down to recording made me feel a bit better. He'd just say, "When you're ready." I was calling him "Yoda" towards the end of the day, for all his insightful comments that seemed to translate what Alexa and I were trying to say, in our chatter-y little way.

After sitting down and noshing on the product of the first shoot -the rigatoni- and drinking from the one and ONLY Taco Via cups (yes, that little lady logo stirs many childhood memories for me...mainly delicious, greasy, burrito bomb, Mexican food type memories.) we felt very at home with one another. Sharing a meal seems to break the ice and everyone relaxes. Or maybe it was the Taco Via cups, because we did laugh quite a bit over them and learned that Adam didn't really like Mexican food, to which, Alexa and I both gasped.

Okay, so this picture is a bit awkward of me (sorta look like I'm be dramatic about the salad or something...such a diva) but I like it because you can really see how cool that camera was! Isn't it so fancy? I was in awe of the quality of the video. It was so cool!

Alexa brought me a little treat from San Fransisco, a box of caramels. Six luscious caramels that I was not intending to enjoy so greatly or have to share so freely. I quickly offered up a piece to everyone and that was BEFORE I tasted them. After I tasted them, I wanted to reach down into everyone's throats and retrieve the golden, creamy, slightly salty treats. So I was down to three. I offered one to my mom, who graciously watched the kids all day for me so I could do the video, but was relieved when she said it would yank out her crown. So I still had three. I gobbled down two more and teetered on the fence of sharing the last one with the Hubs or not. I chose to be nice and shared, all the while I sat drooling and I watched him slowly chew that sticky piece of golden, creamy heaven.

 So here's a crazy picture of me at the end of the shoot. I look like a crazed woman with a fork, which isn't too far from the truth, and just floating on cloud nine. I felt so energized, filled and excited that I got to do something I love (cooking and being a ham) and get to do that with such wonderful people! Thanks again, Alexa and Foodbuzz for picking me. Thanks Adam for being such a great videographer!

Sorry for such a delay...again, between posts, dear ones. It has been so insane with the kids. Winter always brings much sickness, but this year is really nuts. When the kids are sick and I am sick, my creativity goes down the toilet. All I want to do is sleep, but of course, we all know that doesn't happen with three little sick baby birds, right?

Love Ya, Foodies!!! (ahhh-choo!...excuse me.)

Snot Faucets and Other Insightful Things

 

For the last two weeks we've been ever so sick. It was just a very bad cold. One child gets it, then generously passes it to the other via slobbering and coughing or sneezing or the ever popular and effective, sippy cup swap.

They have also been so generous to share their wretched cold shenanigans with their tired and adoring parents. It makes for really great parenting - to feel like crap and take care of other crappy-feeling children.

Often times when I see a cold is a-brewin' in one of the kids, I take extra measures to have them cover their face when they cough and sneeze and always wash their hands after blowing their noses. I will sometimes tell them not to hug or kiss their siblings (because they inevitably sneeze every time they go in for a big bear hug), which by the way sounds horrible doesn't it? But to be quite honest, all I can see when they are hugging or kissing is a good week and a half to two weeks of no sleep or very poor sleep in my future, hence the kibosh on affection.

All that being said, by the time I'm sure we are all well-infected, my rules and preventative measures go straight the window. I stop caring and finally realize, it's better if they all get sick at once instead of staggering it, because it shortens the window of sick.

How does one know that they truly are infected? I'll tell you, it's when you are buckling any one of your mucus-y cherubs into their car seats and get a big juicy sneeze right between the eyes. That is the moment when you realize, it is now my time to keep a box of Kleenex in my mommy (or daddy) tool belt, that imaginably resides around my waist, along with herbal tea and ibuprofen. Ah, joy.

 Yes, you guessed it. That's a hair clip holding a Kleenex box to my hip. The only problem is that I thought of this after every one started feeling better.

Each child has a different nose-blowing style. Care to see the rundown? Of course you do.

 She was weirdly reluctant about taking this picture (hence, the lack-luster approach to fake nose-blowing), but it's still fairly accurate.

Boo is a great nose blower. Forceful, thorough and completely unaware that she must cup the danging Kleenex up under her nose to catch the waterfall of newly expressed snot. Effective but very, very messy. Especially when she does this in the car and then hands you the soggy tissue while you are driving. To make matters more interesting, a quick look in the rear-view mirror reveals the dangling string of snot hanging from her top lip and her talking something like this, "Uh, Mommy? Uh...Uh...Ewww!!!" all while sitting very still as if she has a killer bee on the end of her nose. To which I respond with a fresh tissue wipage of the dangler, while driving in snow. Life on the edge.

This is not a very realistic re-enactment of the previous weeks activities. This was much more enthusiastic. Maybe I should try breaking out the camera the next time I ask him to blow his nose.

Bubba is the reluctant nose-blower. You know, with all your mommy intuition, that he has a ridiculous amount of snot in his head but no matter how many times you ask if he needs to blow his nose, the answer is "no". He will, only if told, give a dainty, useless blow, just enough to rattle things around a bit and convince me that there is still SO much more to be expelled. But he just plain refuses. So I let him go on, talking like his head is in a bucket and someone shoved two cottonballs up his nose. How can one walk around with so much snot in their head, by choice? Does he not know the satisfying feeling of a momentarily clear head? I love blowing my nose.

And then there is Tiny. Well, he's only 18 months old and is sort of understanding the concept. He only blows his nose when there is not a Kleenex within an 80 mile radius and it's usually into his hand AND it's usually when he's practicing blowing kisses, not sneezes. Pretty cute, really. But to get any real relief for him, I have to use the dreaded "snot sucker". Out of all my kids, he's the one that has done the best with it. He actually tolerates it. He doesn't enjoy it, but he will sit still for the duration. The best part is when he tells it "bye-bye" (which really sounds like "kye-kye") when it's all done. What amazes me is how small his head is and the enormity of his snot! Where does it come from?

 The cold accouterments.

I find that my once hyper-vigilant disease control has now been lowered to a simple snot inspection of the hands. If they don't have visible snot it's back to the sick pit (also known as the play room), if they do then a shoddy squirt of hand sanitizer and a cautionary warning "do NOT to eat it!" is issued, along with a quick wipe of a damp paper towel. Where have my principles gone?

Other sick-time activities include (like a bad Time Life compilation C.D.):

-Cleaning things I wouldn't normally think to clean, like under Tiny's booster seat. The horror of dried bits of food from weeks ago and pacifiers? I don't even know how they got under there, for the space is so minimal I find it nearly a great work of art, on his part. It took a chisel and the better part of my afternoon to pry all disgusting food particles from the chair.

-You do really bad-mommy things, like, take your kids to the mall to play in the children's play area while they are sick. You are so insane with being trapped inside your house, with nothing but noses to blow and butts to wipe, that you exit the house, in frigid weather, cart them to the mall and dump them into the play pit. The whole time, you are thinking (or at least I am) what a horrible thing I am doing. I'm infecting all these other kids. Then I see that nearly half the moms there are wiping their kids snot faucets just as much as I am. So suddenly I don't shudder as much or hop up as quick, when Lily sneezes on the little girl with a puffy pink hairbow and Isaiah slides his sleeve across his slippery nose-snot.

-Lose track of the last day everyone had a bath.

-You cancel your son's birthday party twice...ugh.

-You do a lot of art projects that require painting with NyQuil and cough syrup. (Just kidding...we use paint, most of the time.)

-You find yourself daydreaming about a Mexican beach and shrimp cocktail...and cocktails.



-Then you cry because you realize a vacation won't happen for years.

Do you see all the deep thoughts that occur when one is sick alongside their children? I'm sure you have some of your own. By all means, do share...

I hope this post finds you and your loved ones feeling healthy and ready for Spring. 

Love ya, Foodies!

She's Got A New Attitude...On Blogging

Maybe it was the impending blizzard. Maybe it was the meteorologist's forecasted  foot of snow manifested outside my door, trapping me and my family in our house for 2 days. Maybe it was that the Internet connection has been less than stellar. Maybe those are all excuses for the real reason...
Maybe I just didn't feel like blogging.

There. I said it. I didn't want to.

When I started this blog I was blogging everyday. I put immense pressure on myself to generate lots of content, leave comments on everyone's blogs and spend copious amounts of time on it. And it was good.

I was striving to get more readers.

I was stressed if I didn't post everyday.

I did the PFB contest- had a blast.

Then I got really tired. Pooped.

We moved and I had time to think, because I didn't blog for 2 weeks. The first time since I started the blog. I was so concerned. What would it do to my blog? Would my readers forget me? What would happen!!! (dramatic music plays)

It gave me time to step back and think.

Why do I do this?

Is it a business? Do I get paid? No and, um, no.

Well, I slowly got back on the blogging horse, as it were, and started up again on January 1st. But I had realized something, I only wanted to blog when I FELT like it. That's the whole point of this blog for me- to be a creative outlet. Creative comes in spurts. It happens when it happens.

I felt burned out just writing about recipes all the time, even with the passion I have for cooking, I wanted to step out of a box.

Good blogging friends have given me sound advice, which was this: you can write about what you want, when you want, how you want.

I've found myself apologizing, at times, for my blog being too "mommy" and not enough "foodie"! I mean, really? Why on earth am I apologizing?

So now I am at the point where I haven't blogged for like 2 weeks...AND FOR NO REASON, other than I just didn't feel like it- that and I was more interested in some of my other passions like beadwork and crafting than blogging. I know, kinda dorky. I look like I belong in a nursing home with my afghan, cradled in my recliner, with my box of beadwork supplies and and cup of tea at night.

"Oh look! There's Grandma Lauren's little nest of beading supplies. How sweet."

I was also very busy taking pictures of my beat-up kitchen chairs, with intentions of coming up with something "arty". Hmmm.

I did come up with an egg-free chocolate orange bread pudding recipe for you. I know, you're thinking "Egg-free bread pudding? Aren't you missing the point?" But it was actually very good. Let me know if you would be interested in the recipe and I will post it. And no, that is not milk streaming from a cow's teat. Looks like it though, doesn't it?

I was also making my children pose in frigid weather...with sticks.

And I was REALLY busy watching the Hubs do manly stuff like shovel snow in a blizzard. What a man.

I was tired of balancing my laptop on my lap (with my afghan while reclining) and trying to crank out a post in the evenings when I was so exhausted from the day. All I wanted to do was zone out and watch Gordon yell at people. (Ramsey, silly. Not just any Gordon.) But I will admit, there is nothing quite like hitting that "publish" button. That is a good feeling to be sure.

So chime in. What do you think? I mean, what drives you to blog? Do you put yourself on a schedule? Does it help you? Is your blog that important to do such a thing? Do you ever feel overwhelmed by your blog? If so, why do you think that is? Is it pressure from others or yourself? Is what I am saying utterly ridiculous?

You know, it like that saying, (I think it's a saying anyways. I say it a lot) "As the pendulum swings..." Meaning, you go from one extreme to another until you balance out. I started out as a psycho blogger, now I'm plain, straight-up "on-strike" blogger. I'll find my middle. Until then, you'll never know when I will blog next. But if I'm not blogging, you know what I'll be doing...

Love ya, Foodies! Good to be back.