I know, I know... call me a heathen... tell me I'm horrible... but I just don't get it. I can't do the whole Easter thing.... not in an American "traditional" sense and certainly NOT what it's become these days. I can't and I won't.
But oodles of candy?! Gift baskets larger than my 3 year old?! Masses of children and parents screaming and running and grabbing? It is sick. Something is deeply wrong with this holiday and our nation...
My husband's work has organized a HUGE Easter Egg Hunt and Cake Walk (you might know how I feel about those)... no, we won't be attending. We'll focus on our values... we'll plant new seeds in our garden and tend the plants. We'll have a few treats, yes, but nothing lavish. We'll talk about the meaning of Easter and why we celebrate this holiday.
What will you do for Easter?
And, really, will you color eggs with your kids... and put them in the fridge... and then hide them in them in the morning... and tell them the Easter Bunny (the creepy guy in the suit at the mall) came by in the middle in the night and hid them in the yard... and the kids have to go find them all... and then hand them back over to the parents to put them back in the fridge... and the parents will make some egg salad sandwiches for lunch or deviled eggs for dinner? Really? Even as a very small child, this whole process made no sense and I couldn't for the life of me connect it to what Easter was all about.
Don't get me wrong, I love the Irish. St. Patrick's Day is great fun. We had green milk with our cereal (and in my coffee) and the "leprechauns" pulled a few pranks....
But I'm not the biggest fan of Irish food. Sorry.
I still wanted to do something fun in the kitchen while waiting for either the kids to take naps or the husband to get out of bed (he's working the night shift and working Saturdays too).
Something completely delicious and warming and homey... Something you could never ever buy at the store...
Tortillas. Homemade Tortillas. Recipe Link Here!
A few months ago, I picked up this 10" cast iron flat grill/skillet. It's been begging me to make tortillas. I hear it calling my name... calling for flour, salt, baking powder, and lard.... Yes, I use lard. It's awesome.
So, there's flour everywhere - I am a messy cook - and the munchkins are stuffing their faces and I will never ever again buy tortillas. These are just too damn good (and cheap!!).
I'll keep this short and sweet - Promise.
It's SPRING!!! We (meaning mostly me) spent the past 2 days digging up the old beds, expanding them, adding in the compost, buying lumber and various "supplies," building structures, and planting the starts.
So the blueberries are planted, grapes along the fence... carrots, cabbage, lettuce, and other fun little things in the small bed in back (with the large low frame (now covered to protect them from the cold nights for a few more weeks), melons and cucumbers are in, tomatoes and peppers are in too... along with a few bunches of herbs here and there.
On the window sill we've started more melons (my kids consume melons at alarming rates) and more herbs. I'll be planting the corn & squashes soon too. And the strawberries - can't forget the strawberries!! Towers next the blueberries by next week!
Yum, yum, yum.
These are the hands of a 36 year old woman... not a 60 year old man....
I work with my hands. I cut wood, I sand, I paint, I build things... I also do the dishes, clean the house, cook, and take care of business... I also garden. It takes it's toll.
I have man hands.
I've never had the most beautiful hands. They've always been strong... with short fingers... a bit thick.... but strong and very capable. Now, they're cracked and calloused. My nails are trashed. I have cuts, scars, and bruises.
Today, I worked in the garden for hours and it shows. I can scrub and scrub, but they won't come clean.... I guess I just need to give it time. Time heals all wounds, right? Or in this case, lets the dirt wear off a bit more gradually than continuing to scrub them to a bloody pulp.
I thought about asking for help... trying to find ways to minimize the impact of "life" on my hands... but I like my hands. They tell my story.
What do your hands say about you?
I am suffering... and I am cheap... and I lack the time and proper motivation to see a doctor. I hate continually popping pills that don't help all that much.... so I went old school.
There's something in the air in Georgia that hates me. Something is making my life hell. Maybe it's the mold, maybe it's some sort of pollen... maybe it's just my daily dose of sawdust. What I do know is that antihistamines and sinus decongestants aren't doing their job. The sinus cavity behind my eyes... those pesky upper ones... they're not doing so well. My face is on fire.
What's a girl to do? Listen to her mother. Yeah. I know. Listen to mom.
Chop an onion. Boil some water. Pour on the boiling water, put your face over the bowl, tent with a towel and hang out for awhile. Think of it as an onion scented steam bath for your face.
My sinuses drained. I am happy.
I know it won't last, but a few hours with a clear head is all I need tonight. Tomorrow? I'll pick up a BIG bag of onions.
NOTE - if onions make you cry, you might want to keep your eyes closed.
A work in progress