Plenty- in this house where I’ve learned over the years that so much of dealing with depression is putting one foot in front of the other, making supper, digging down into your real (as opposed to your fantasy) relationships. I also need to say here that I’ve been taking a minimal amount of generic Paxil… Continue reading What does a fresh corn souffle have to do with depression?
The squashfest continues, along with enough cucumbers to put up pickles for an army. But I have the answer to yellow squash, usually about as tasty to me as wet cotton. This bland, limp vegetable has been waiting for Tommy Lombardo of Euclid, OH and his (her?) recipe for Tex-Mex Summer Squash Casserole in the… Continue reading Zucchini, squash and cukes — oh my!
To my horror, I found out yesterday that my oldest daughter has never eaten a ham d’lite. What kind of southern mother was I during the 10 years or so she lived in North Carolina? So, now, guess what we’re having for Easter dinner. I can live with her never going to Cotillion but no… Continue reading Ham d’lites
So many addicts in recovery seem so affected by Philip Seymour Hoffman’s death. No way to tell if it’s more than usual at the passing of a talented young person with as many problems, or more, than talents, but everyone appears gobsmacked by the 20 years sobriety preceding his final tailspin. Those of us who slide… Continue reading One cigarette away; vegetables with oomph
A nice neighbor gave us a huge box of North Carolina sweet potatoes as well as a huge package of sausage made from a hog he raised. So we were already halfway toward the Grilled Sweet Potato and Sausage Pizza recipe I’d saved from the Winston-Salem Journal for more than two years. The other challenge,… Continue reading Grilled pizza — so good, so easy and so inexpensive
Elizabeth Taylor in her old age said the elastic waistband was a girl’s best friend. Diet gurus, though, advise “The elastic waistband is bad for your diet” so I’ve been trying to wear real waistbands with buttons and zippers and stuff. And clothes that fit, not caftans suggestive of a camel ride. I feel, in… Continue reading Planet Fatso; tortellini slow-cooker soup
When I repeated something I’d read about never seeing any old fat people, Stoic the Helpful suggested, “Santa Claus.” OK, besides a really fat and really old guy with a Downton Abbey-worthy household staff, who else? Anybody? Anybody not on a walker because of their abused old knees or hips? I can’t think of anyone;… Continue reading Tubby oldsters and slimmed-down broccoli soup