With at least three more months of winter, there is no way prairie redneck women want to look like one of those airbrushed, digitally enhanced models or celebrities on the cover of some magazine that says "How to Lose 25 Pounds AND Keep It Off!" Better to spend our money on Canada Junior Hockey team apparel than on an article written by someone who doesn't even know what "wind chill" factor means.
It's not that we don't care about our appearance; it's just that we are realists. One extra inch of fat on our hips, thighs and waist isn't a cause for alarm. Its Mother Nature's way of saying go out, enjoy the winter, I'm a prairie redneck woman hear me roar back at the wind that puts the temperature to -35. That's -31 Fahrenheit.
Sure some of us are hopping on the scale and dropping an F-bomb or heaving a big sigh over the December indulgences. We're struggling a bit to do up the waistband but the December inch tends to disappear by the end of January, since there are no longer the cookie exchanges, the Christmas lunches, the potluck suppers, Christmas Dinner, Boxing Day Luncheon, the New Year's Eve party where the call of the Wild Pretzel couldn't be ignored and of course the snacking during the World Junior Games. The winter inch, though, isn't something to be ashamed of. It's a fact of life.
Another fact of life is since even the better quality magazines are usually from America, it's easier to think in terms of pounds and inches. The work or school schedule is back to normal. It's time to resume your exercise program. Now that it's January, it's okay to say to Herb in sales "I'll take a pass on the Tim Horton's donuts, thanks for thinking of me." Also, yes their Candy Cane coffee or hot chocolate is a great Christmas treat but Christmas is done, have one last cup when the tree is down and resume your normal drinking habit. It's also time to quit buying or making eggnog and resume your regular dairy habits. When Mabel down the block arrives on your doorstep with fresh cinnamon buns, it's okay to limit yourself to one, and put the rest where they aren't accessible. To be fair to the magazine industry, if the woman on front doesn't look digitally enhanced and the article is offering to help you lose 10 pounds, the odds are in your favour it's a realistic weight loss plan and worth spending money on or borrowing from the library.
Here are some tips. Grapefruit tastes great sprinkled with nutmeg. Toast can be topped with cinnamon and a few teaspoons of butter, without brown sugar. It is possible to have chilli or soup without bread on the side. Plain low fat yogurt mixed with fruit helps you gear down from the ice cream habit you developed over Christmas holiday. If you don't like cold carrot sticks, let them sit in hot water for a minute or two and drink the water so you don't waste the vitamins. Plus the water will help fill you up. This recipe is for when a monster I call Salt Kong comes roaring in and the salty junk food seems appealing.
Dilled Cucumber Slices
at least 2 cups/450 ml of thick cut cucumber slices
1 cup/250 ml apple cider vinegar
1 garlic clove, minced
2 teaspoons/10 ml fresh dill
dash tumeric
large glass jar with lid and seal (I use a standard Mason jar)
Put cucumber slices in jar, top with remaining ingredients, seal tightly, shake to ensure the liquid gets in between the cucumber slices and let get acquainted in the fridge for 3-6 hours.
Every time you eat those instead of a chips, pretzels or fries, put the money saved in some sort of container. That's it for this week on how to ditch that December Inch without losing your Winter Inch. Next Monday will be about Eating Lifestyles.
Proverbs 4:7 Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom: and with all your getting, get understanding.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Turning Back the Hands of Time
If I could turn back the hands of time, I’d go back to a house in Estevan, Saskatchewan. The snow was real deep and my dad would help my brother and I make some real great snow forts. Christmas was very special, because we’d get lots of great toys. I also vaguely remember my mom getting excited about the Oil Wives’ Christmas Party.
I might not go that far back. I might only go as far back as Medicine Hat. Those were real cool Christmases because of the Christmas Pageant. You know how you read the accounts of Christmas in a small town and roll your eyes at how cheesy it seems? Having lived it as a child, I never roll my eyes. I smile as I remember the assemblies that were also rehearsals for the songs. Of course I never got picked to be one of the singers but I still remember the gym full of kids belting out both the religious and secular songs.
I could back to Edmonton when I was a young girl, and the Christmases that made it no problem understanding Dolly Parton’s “Hard Candy Christmas”. I was grateful for the homemade Christmas gifts, with much love and thought poured into them. I remember the family going downtown to look at the Christmas displays in the shop windows. Not all the Christmases in Edmonton in the 70’s and early 80’s were lean. I remember getting a Barbie Doll, a toy oven, and as I got older, clothes, games, even records.
I could go back to the high school years which were spent mainly in Lloydminster, on the Alberta side. The best year was when Santa Claus gave my brother and I a Canadian Monopoly game and wrote “NO FIGHTING” on the label. Santa had a tender heart, because earlier that year my mom had taken away the Monopoly game from my brother and me because we fought too much over it. Santa’s handwriting looked like my dad’s handwriting but since they were both male, it made perfect sense. There was also a year when Santa gave me Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA” and my brother Eddy Grant’s “Electric Avenue”. Santa and my dad had the same music tastes.
I don’t remember the Christmas my college year in Edmonton just that my family had moved back to Edmonton. I do remember the following year because it was the first Christmas I spent at my parent’s place as a guest. I had moved out of their house earlier that year. They had not yet become born again Christians and let my fiancé also stay the night. I remember vaguely coming awake in the basement muttering “Who’s there?” only to hear my mom say “It’s the Easter Bunny. Go back to sleep.” I have to admit that was the only Christmas he spent with my family. Within a few years I didn’t have a fiancé to bring. It was just as well because by that time my parents had moved to Calgary, become born again Christians and wouldn’t have let us sleep together.
I vaguely remember a Christmas fifteen years ago in Edmonton involving my boyfriend, his ex-wife, their son, her current boyfriend, her ex-boyfriend and myself. I remember wondering if I really wanted another anti-Norman Rockwell Christmas. True, the gifts and fellowship were great, as well as a lot of green stuff that had nothing to do with pine but I wondered if this was the life I wanted to live. I found myself reflecting on a guy I had just met a few days earlier and wondering what sort of Christmas I’d have with him. I shut down that thought, because I knew he was way out of my league.
Little did I know as he was driving his friend back home to spend Christmas with his mom who lived in Calgary, he had a conversation with God that went along the lines of “God, remember how I prayed on the way to Edmonton that once the divorce is finalized, I don’t want a new relationship? I’ve changed my mind.” Now you know how an Edmonton gal wound up living in Calgary.
I might not go that far back. I might only go as far back as Medicine Hat. Those were real cool Christmases because of the Christmas Pageant. You know how you read the accounts of Christmas in a small town and roll your eyes at how cheesy it seems? Having lived it as a child, I never roll my eyes. I smile as I remember the assemblies that were also rehearsals for the songs. Of course I never got picked to be one of the singers but I still remember the gym full of kids belting out both the religious and secular songs.
I could back to Edmonton when I was a young girl, and the Christmases that made it no problem understanding Dolly Parton’s “Hard Candy Christmas”. I was grateful for the homemade Christmas gifts, with much love and thought poured into them. I remember the family going downtown to look at the Christmas displays in the shop windows. Not all the Christmases in Edmonton in the 70’s and early 80’s were lean. I remember getting a Barbie Doll, a toy oven, and as I got older, clothes, games, even records.
I could go back to the high school years which were spent mainly in Lloydminster, on the Alberta side. The best year was when Santa Claus gave my brother and I a Canadian Monopoly game and wrote “NO FIGHTING” on the label. Santa had a tender heart, because earlier that year my mom had taken away the Monopoly game from my brother and me because we fought too much over it. Santa’s handwriting looked like my dad’s handwriting but since they were both male, it made perfect sense. There was also a year when Santa gave me Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA” and my brother Eddy Grant’s “Electric Avenue”. Santa and my dad had the same music tastes.
I don’t remember the Christmas my college year in Edmonton just that my family had moved back to Edmonton. I do remember the following year because it was the first Christmas I spent at my parent’s place as a guest. I had moved out of their house earlier that year. They had not yet become born again Christians and let my fiancé also stay the night. I remember vaguely coming awake in the basement muttering “Who’s there?” only to hear my mom say “It’s the Easter Bunny. Go back to sleep.” I have to admit that was the only Christmas he spent with my family. Within a few years I didn’t have a fiancé to bring. It was just as well because by that time my parents had moved to Calgary, become born again Christians and wouldn’t have let us sleep together.
I vaguely remember a Christmas fifteen years ago in Edmonton involving my boyfriend, his ex-wife, their son, her current boyfriend, her ex-boyfriend and myself. I remember wondering if I really wanted another anti-Norman Rockwell Christmas. True, the gifts and fellowship were great, as well as a lot of green stuff that had nothing to do with pine but I wondered if this was the life I wanted to live. I found myself reflecting on a guy I had just met a few days earlier and wondering what sort of Christmas I’d have with him. I shut down that thought, because I knew he was way out of my league.
Little did I know as he was driving his friend back home to spend Christmas with his mom who lived in Calgary, he had a conversation with God that went along the lines of “God, remember how I prayed on the way to Edmonton that once the divorce is finalized, I don’t want a new relationship? I’ve changed my mind.” Now you know how an Edmonton gal wound up living in Calgary.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Prairie Redneck Christmas Cake
Occasionally on the Internet a piece circulates about someone's attempt to make alcohol laden fruitcake. As the recipe progresses, you can tell the person is getting drunk as they make the cake. Prairie redneck women are made of much sterner stuff. This is one recipe where Canadian content is forgotten, and American whiskey is used. It's usually called cake because as soon as you call it fruitcake, no redneck man will touch it even with all the whiskey. Anything in italics is optional.
Jack Daniels Cake
Open up J.D., have a shot to ensure its fresh
1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temp
1 cup sugar
3 eggs
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
2 generous cups flour
1/2 cup Jack Daniels lick up any residue in the cup to ensure the J.D. isn't wasted
12 ounces currants, or raisins
Indulge in a shot of J.D. because all the ingredients are successfully set out.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl, beat the sugar into the softened butter until fluffy and white. Beat eggs in well. Time for more J.D., this is hard work.
In a separate bowl, combine the baking powder and flour. Beat the bourbon into the eggs and butter, and then add the flour mixture, fruit and nuts, mixing well. Almost done, J.D. shooter time.
Take a loaf pan, smear it with butter. Pour in the batter, and bake for about 45 minutes , or until a knife plunged in the center of the cake comes out dry. Use the time the cake is baking to enjoy another J.D. shooter.
When cake is done, brush top and sides with J.D. plus put some J.D. inside you.
Yield: 1 9x5x3 inch cake.
Whiskey Frosting
1/4 cup butter
2 cups powdered sugar
3 tablespoons whiskey as well as one for yourself.
pinch of salt
Cream butter, add sugar and salt, stirring is work, need some J.D. then whiskey. Whip until smooth. Frost cake. Have a final shot of J.D to celebrate another successful cooking experience.
Jack Daniels Cake
Open up J.D., have a shot to ensure its fresh
1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temp
1 cup sugar
3 eggs
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
2 generous cups flour
1/2 cup Jack Daniels lick up any residue in the cup to ensure the J.D. isn't wasted
12 ounces currants, or raisins
Indulge in a shot of J.D. because all the ingredients are successfully set out.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl, beat the sugar into the softened butter until fluffy and white. Beat eggs in well. Time for more J.D., this is hard work.
In a separate bowl, combine the baking powder and flour. Beat the bourbon into the eggs and butter, and then add the flour mixture, fruit and nuts, mixing well. Almost done, J.D. shooter time.
Take a loaf pan, smear it with butter. Pour in the batter, and bake for about 45 minutes , or until a knife plunged in the center of the cake comes out dry. Use the time the cake is baking to enjoy another J.D. shooter.
When cake is done, brush top and sides with J.D. plus put some J.D. inside you.
Yield: 1 9x5x3 inch cake.
Whiskey Frosting
1/4 cup butter
2 cups powdered sugar
3 tablespoons whiskey as well as one for yourself.
pinch of salt
Cream butter, add sugar and salt, stirring is work, need some J.D. then whiskey. Whip until smooth. Frost cake. Have a final shot of J.D to celebrate another successful cooking experience.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Let's Get ROWDY!!!!!
First, congratulations to the Calgary Stampeders for going to the Grey Cup. Here's hoping you bring home the big trophy. That Quebec Maple Syrup is going to taste real sweet on the chuckwagon pancakes when it's being served to dedicated Calgarians who are making the trip to Montreal to see the Stamps. GOOOOOOOOOO Stamps GOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
I had the pleasure on Friday night of being a guest of Country 105's "Let's Get Rowdy" section for the Professional Bull Riding Competition. The fun began at 5 p.m. with the waiver signing and entering into the "Sit on A Bull" contest. We got our Let's Get Rowdy passes and made our way into the Saddledome to go to ground level. The rink sure looks different covered with dirt and bull chutes. It was also a unique experience with the scent of bovine intermingled with the usual beer and popcorn scent that never seems to leave the Dome. Hot Rod Harriet literally gave me a "Are you INSANE?" look when she asked me if I was nervous about possibly getting on a bull.
She wasn't the only one who gave me that look when I squealed with delight upon winning the draw. I guess it's unusual for a woman, especially a woman less than five feet tall, to want to sit on a bull. Border Denial was definitely not a small bull. It was fun getting chaps and a vest on.
It was exciting climbing up the chute. My excitement, however, started to wane when the bull sort of looked at me. I began to wonder what I'd gotten myself into but still sat on the bull. I'll admit that my smile got nervous when the bull started to grunt and sway. It was fun to sit on a bull but I'm in no hurry to ride one. 
It's definitely worth it to rearrange your schedule for a Country 105 party. Free drink ticket, door prizes, mix and mingle, a chance to get better acquainted with the radio announcers plus the behind the scene staff that help make the radio show run smoothly made for an enjoyable pre-show event. I left The Whisky with Country 105, PBR, Barefoot Winery and Wrangler bling. Technically a scarf isn't bling but it definitely came in handy for the trip home.
What can I say about a Cody Schneider Professional Bull Riding Event? It's definitely smooth and polished, right from the word go. The great thing about the introductions is unlike football or hockey player introductions, you know what you are seeing isn't padding, it's 100% muscular thighs covered in blue jeans and chaps. I can understand why women would lose their heart to a bull rider despite the fact it's a risky profession.
I am still amazed and awed by the way the bulls move. For big, awkward looking critters, they can definitely move fast. I sat beside a knowledgeable cowboy who told me the difference between spinners and buckers. It was unreal how a bull could whip its body around, and turn its head like a cat chasing it's tail. I was more stunned by the spinners than the buckers. It made sense seeing a big hulking beast bucking around. To try to describe the spinning, though, is beyond my capabilities.
I don't think the bull riders are too insane. They are only on the bull for about 8 seconds if they are lucky. It's the brave men who distract the bull once the bull rider is bucked off or slides off that have me wondering if they aren't a little bit on the crazy side. I definitely salute them for the work that they do on behalf of the riders. The night was not without a few tense moments, including a rider having to be taken out on a body board. He wanted to walk out but the emergency crew told him it would be better to go on the board as a precaution.
For the record, I was sober when I got on the bull and sober when I left the Saddledome. I wasn't going to throw away 10 years of sobriety because of a bull. Big Lug isn't much for bull riding or for radio listener parties. He graciously stayed home with Kidlet while I had some fun time that was for the over 18 crowd.
Due to some verbal requests, some private topic requests on a message board and even an annonymous comment here, I have posted some of the bull pictures. As well, you can go to
http://www.country105.com/PhotoGalleries/PBR.aspx to see the Let's Get Rowdy party. The first picture is my radio interview with Hot Rod Harriet.
Proverbs 15:3 The eyes of the LORD are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.
I had the pleasure on Friday night of being a guest of Country 105's "Let's Get Rowdy" section for the Professional Bull Riding Competition. The fun began at 5 p.m. with the waiver signing and entering into the "Sit on A Bull" contest. We got our Let's Get Rowdy passes and made our way into the Saddledome to go to ground level. The rink sure looks different covered with dirt and bull chutes. It was also a unique experience with the scent of bovine intermingled with the usual beer and popcorn scent that never seems to leave the Dome. Hot Rod Harriet literally gave me a "Are you INSANE?" look when she asked me if I was nervous about possibly getting on a bull.
She wasn't the only one who gave me that look when I squealed with delight upon winning the draw. I guess it's unusual for a woman, especially a woman less than five feet tall, to want to sit on a bull. Border Denial was definitely not a small bull. It was fun getting chaps and a vest on.
It was exciting climbing up the chute. My excitement, however, started to wane when the bull sort of looked at me. I began to wonder what I'd gotten myself into but still sat on the bull. I'll admit that my smile got nervous when the bull started to grunt and sway. It was fun to sit on a bull but I'm in no hurry to ride one. 
It's definitely worth it to rearrange your schedule for a Country 105 party. Free drink ticket, door prizes, mix and mingle, a chance to get better acquainted with the radio announcers plus the behind the scene staff that help make the radio show run smoothly made for an enjoyable pre-show event. I left The Whisky with Country 105, PBR, Barefoot Winery and Wrangler bling. Technically a scarf isn't bling but it definitely came in handy for the trip home.
What can I say about a Cody Schneider Professional Bull Riding Event? It's definitely smooth and polished, right from the word go. The great thing about the introductions is unlike football or hockey player introductions, you know what you are seeing isn't padding, it's 100% muscular thighs covered in blue jeans and chaps. I can understand why women would lose their heart to a bull rider despite the fact it's a risky profession.
I am still amazed and awed by the way the bulls move. For big, awkward looking critters, they can definitely move fast. I sat beside a knowledgeable cowboy who told me the difference between spinners and buckers. It was unreal how a bull could whip its body around, and turn its head like a cat chasing it's tail. I was more stunned by the spinners than the buckers. It made sense seeing a big hulking beast bucking around. To try to describe the spinning, though, is beyond my capabilities.
I don't think the bull riders are too insane. They are only on the bull for about 8 seconds if they are lucky. It's the brave men who distract the bull once the bull rider is bucked off or slides off that have me wondering if they aren't a little bit on the crazy side. I definitely salute them for the work that they do on behalf of the riders. The night was not without a few tense moments, including a rider having to be taken out on a body board. He wanted to walk out but the emergency crew told him it would be better to go on the board as a precaution.
For the record, I was sober when I got on the bull and sober when I left the Saddledome. I wasn't going to throw away 10 years of sobriety because of a bull. Big Lug isn't much for bull riding or for radio listener parties. He graciously stayed home with Kidlet while I had some fun time that was for the over 18 crowd.
Due to some verbal requests, some private topic requests on a message board and even an annonymous comment here, I have posted some of the bull pictures. As well, you can go to
http://www.country105.com/PhotoGalleries/PBR.aspx to see the Let's Get Rowdy party. The first picture is my radio interview with Hot Rod Harriet.
Proverbs 15:3 The eyes of the LORD are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Football IS Life
If you are American and reading this, it's the Canadian Football League's playoffs. We take our football seriously, especially in the West. That's what enables someone to walk around in a shirt that says "CFL: Our balls are bigger" without snickering.
My plan for Saturday was simple. Watch the Edmonton Eskimos show the rest of Canada why their city is called "The City of Champions" as they surprised the citizens of Manitoba by beating the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, vacuum the house and watch the remainder of the Saskatchewan Roughriders creaming of The B.C. Lions.
The Edmonton Eskimos won by only a touchdown. It was fun to see the foreign football players discover why Manitoba's capital city gets called "Winterpeg". As soon as I saw all the snow, I knew the Eskies would win. That's one team that definitely knows how to handle winter conditions in the fall. Due to Big Lug having to work, I was able to teach Kidlet how to cheer for the Edmonton Eskimos. Let's GO EskiMOS, Let's GO ESkiMOS, Green and Gold RUUSHHHHHHHH, GOOO ESKIES GOOOOOOO, DeFENCE, DeFENCE. Next week it will be even easier to cheer for the Edmonton Eskimos because it will be English versus French, prairie upstarts versus original settlers as the Eskies travel to Montreal to take on the Montreal Alouettes. Nah nah nah, heyyy heyy, goooood-bye. I'm just warming up for the end of the game next Saturday.
In the jungle, the mighty jungle of Mosaic Stadium at Regina, it started out with the roar of the Rider fans. I take exception to anyone who calls Rider fans buffoons or says they need to get a life. The Roughriders are their life. Saskatchewan has never had an NHL team. They have always had the Roughriders and the older the province gets, the more enduring Rider pride becomes. Besides, as both a football fan and a technogeek I can understand how someone would dye a Chewbacca costume green to wear to a Roughriders game. I wanted Saskatchewan to win because on the off chance the Calgary Stampeders lose next Saturday, it would give Big Lug a team to cheer for during the Grey Cup finals. I even had a blog half mentally written, about Rider Nation arriving in Calgary. When I finished vacuuming and looked at the score, I did a double take and said "What the frick?" Kidlet was in the room or I would have used a different word to express my feelings.
As the game regressed, I found myself feeling sorry for Country 105's Scott Phillips. He has no qualms about admitting to being a loyal Roughriders fans. Thankfully Calgarians tolerate Rider fans. Rider Nation is too strong to be assimilated no matter how many years someone has lived in Calgary. My sympathies to all the Rider fans. Here’s hoping the Stamps do to the Lions what they did to the Riders and Prairie Pride is triumphant this Saturday.
I'm hoping for an Edmonton Eskimos versus Calgary Stampeders for the Grey Cup. One way or another, it means the Grey Cup gets to be in the West for a year. I'm also hoping on Grey Cup Sunday, November 23rd we'll be sitting at the Calgary International Airport waiting for the triumphant Calgary Stampeders to return with the Grey Cup.
Proverbs 10:24 The fear of the wicked, it shall come upon him: but the desire of the righteous shall be granted.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Summer State of Mind
I will not deny crow’s feet or grey hairs. I will not deny there is a traffic flow problem on Deerfoot. I will not deny that dark chocolate has health benefits. I will deny, however, that there are months that you shouldn't go barefoot.
There is nothing special about my feet. They are ordinary feet, although when Kidlet was born the midwife did demand to look at our feet to see who he had inherited the long toes from and did a double take when she realized that along with the rest of my body, the only thing petite about me is my height. I don't undergo a pedicure on a regular basis. There is absolutely no logical reason why I should be reluctant to cover them up when it become furnace season.
I love to be barefoot. I enjoy the feel of the rug on my feet. Barefoot gives me incentive to sweep the kitchen floor on a regular basis. I am also helping the environment. If I only put on socks when I leave the yard, it means my socks last longer and there is less washing of footwear to do. When my feet are bare, I can convince myself the white stuff on the ground is another form of moisture for the ground and that summer hasn't left quite yet.
I have discovered I am not alone. One of Country 105's announcers shares my distaste of wearing socks this time of year. http://www.country105.com/Blogs/StephSays/Home.aspx To Steph Hansen and all the other women who defy the weather, I give you an eight toe salute. I'd make it ten but my baby toes are too little to curl upwards.
This is one of my favourite summer drinks, to be enjoyed all day long:
6 cups filtered water
2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar
1 inch peeled fresh ginger
none-1/8 tsp Stevia (herbal sugar substitute)
Mix together, keep refrigerated. Tastes best if made the night before and chilled in the fridge.
Proverbs 8:12 I wisdom dwell with prudence, and find out knowledge of witting inventions. (KJV)
Monday, November 3, 2008
MMMMMM, Monday
It's another Manic Monday; wish it was a Sunday. That's my fun day, my race day. What, you thought I was going to say something else? The 80's are over, this is 2008.
I was a bit wistful as I watched the race on Sunday. It's sort of sad that I do remember a time when NASCAR broadcasts weren't sportstainment. I also remember when Earnhardt was an older driver with a moustache and most importantly, I remember when Jeff Gordon could be counted on to win at least one race a season. I was also wistful because last year this time I was busy planning to go to my first ever NASCAR race, at Phoenix. That magic will never be recaptured. It's sort of like being a virgin bride. True, the first part of the experience isn't quite what you expected. Once you get past the awkwardness, relax and try to enjoy, you'll discover what all the hype is about and want to do it more than once.
It was very easy to drift towards thoughts of Phoenix when I heard the S word on the radio this morning. I'm not into skiing, which means hearing a possible heavy snowfall warning doesn't make me think "Yahoo, maybe the slopes will open early this year", it makes me think "I don't want to shovel the walks this early." I don't "do" lawns. The trade off for not mowing is it becomes my responsibility to clear the snow.
I took my frustrations out on the house. Big Lug loves it when I get frustrated. I can usually be counted on to do extra housework. I no longer think we need new living room furniture. It's amazing what a thorough vacuuming can do to spruce up a couch and love seat. I worked up one heckuva an appetite doing that. I took a recipe that came all the way from Maryland in the US of A and tweaked it to my own tastes.
Bacon Lover's Salad
6 slices turkey bacon
1/2 cup diced onion (I used the purple-reddish kind)
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
2 tablespoons water
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 cup spinach greens
1 tablespoon flaxseed oil
1 large radish, thinly sliced
1 hardboiled egg, chopped
Place bacon in a large, non stick fry pan and cook for about 5-7 minutes. Crumble bacon and add back to pan with onions. Cook for another three minutes to give the onion a chance to absorb any grease from the turkey bacon. Add apple cider vinegar, water and salt, cook until onion is tender.
Place spinach in a bowl, pour hot dressing over spinach, add flaxseed oil and toss well. Garnish with egg and radish.
If you aren't much of an onion lover, you could reduce the onion according to your tastes. Monday tends to be my at home, no company day which means I have no qualms eating a salad with that much onion in it.
Proverbs 3:35 The wise shall inherit glory: but shame shall be the promotion of fools.
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