Tag: healthy eating
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Fish chowder
It’s really difficult, if not impossible, to take a picture of a milk-based chowder that looks even a little appetizing. Let me promise you, though, that this easy soup is wonderful, nutritious and not loaded with calories. The recipe’s from my new favorite food magazine, Taste of Home, in which almost all the recipes are…
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Turkey soup and poison
I don’t know when Carrie Fisher got to be my guru of choice but I saw this pithy quote from her in Sunday’s paper and had to use it toot sweet: “Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” Somehow I got through “Wishful Drinking” without noticing that line, but…
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Tryout, blowout
Some people drink when they’re nervous or pump themselves up with drugs. Some people just face their fears (imagine!). I ate malted milk Whoppers until I felt sick. Then I got up this morning and went outside and tried the new mare. She’s a 13-year-old quarterhorse, 16 hands tall and built like a supermodel, which means she’s…
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Our old selves, jiffy curried chicken
Read a closet-cleaning article (a measure of my determination NOT to overeat or play computer solitaire) with a powerful image: Those clothes we can’t seem to discard are our old selves standing in the way of our newer (more organized, focused,thinner) selves. Perfect thought for Halloween, the idea of animating my baggy, saggy tees and sweatpants,…
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Starved
Picking from last brilliant flush of zinnias yesterday, flashed back decades to my habit of crying whenever my mother said anything nice to/about me — yes, compliments were that rare. I was literally starved for affection, and it takes no keen insight to see why I’ve overeaten my entire life. I remember asking once, as a so-called…
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Out of my comfort zone
I had to pack up my lunchbox and water bottles this week and move to a friend’s home about 70 miles away for some temp work. I was much more anxious than I’d have predicted — kind of like a recovering drunk, I guess, leaving her support group. I wasn’t taking my bike, didn’t really…
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Cook with a kid
This is the oldest of our three daughters and the youngest of our three granddaughters working on Saturday’s pizza lunch in Baltimore (Ashley’s dad is behind them, draining sausage). Eight-year-old Ashley cooks so much that she has a choice of aprons — this one is a “Madmen”-era full apron with ruffles. Sweet. She…
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September morn
Too damp to try out the new horsey short-cut our neighbors cut between pastures this weekend. “You could drive a car through it,” promised Esker T., also promising Amish-made venison summer sausage after he and his wife and son bag their limit this fall, at least partly from the new tree stand installed in the…
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The devil made me do it
My friend Julie was right: The blue, green, white and freckled brown shells slipped off the eggs like little socks. I’d called to ask if she had any eggs more than 3 weeks old because, any fresher, and you can’t remove the shells after you hard-boil them. Julie’s got something like 70 chickens, roaming freely…