There was an old woman...

...who had so many shoes, she didn't know...

Wait, that's not how it goes.

Lived in a shoe.

And had SO many children...

OK, two.
I have two.
Well, two that I've had from day one.
Little genetic progeny of my very own.
Well, half the DNA at least...

But over the years, I have been very fortunate to acquire several more children.
"Psuedo" children, as one of them says.

Children who have filled my life & my heart with laughter, & pride, & love.

The friends of my children, & children of my friends...

My Dance Kids; my Marching Band Kids; my Musical Kids...

They let me feed them, & spoil them, & watch them perform.
We have laughed, & cried, & created memories.
They learned to ignore the camera that inevitably followed them around.
We shared inside hugs, & jokes, & costumes, & more than a few pans of spontaneous brownies.
They texted "I love you" on Mother's Day.
And showed up at my door for cake.

We have shared their dreams, their triumphs, their failures.

They let me watch them grow up.
And became wonderful young men & women.

I treasure each & every one of the children that have entered my life.

And am SO very proud of them all.

And that... was my first thought on waking up this morning :)

One Fine Day

Can I just sit in my jammies & listen to Sting all day?

The morning dawned ever so slowly today. Almost like it was reluctant to face the week ahead; with a "can't we just ease into this" sort of attitude.

I sat here savoring the hints of pink behind the clouds; candlelight (Ocean Blossom), coffee in hand (Morning Blend with a tsp of Sugar in the Raw & a splash of milk), one cat on the couch, one at my feet (ok, sporadically, as kittens will be)... & Sting.

To clarify... Sting on the stereo.

Not on the couch.

If he was on the couch, I doubt I would be sitting here in my jammies writing a blog!

What a nice way to start the day.
And I'm thinking it would be a pleasant way to spend the entire morning.
(Fine, it would have been a WHOLE lot cooler if Sting HAD been on the couch!)

I won't sit here, of course.

Things to do, errands to run, soup to make.

But at the moment, none of that is pressing, & I'm going to stretch this out until the coffee is gone, & the morning light dims the candle.
And I have to get up & change the cd.

Because then I will probably get distracted & straighten something up, pick up a dish, notice the cats need water...

And the dawn will have faded into day.

And the week will have begun.

And if the week is anything like the way it started, it will be a fine one indeed.

One sec... I need more coffee.

Seriously.

I got all settled to write & the only thought I had was, "Rats, I need more coffee."
So, I suppose I wasn't really settled.
Or ready to write.

Some days are like that.

Once upon a time, I challenged myself to write something every day, first thing, before the bustle got started.
It didn't matter what; a memory; an anecdote (I love that word); a quick, 3-line blurt of poetry; a reflection on the sunrise.
Something... anything.

I found myself writing in my head constantly. Once I started, I couldn't stop.
It was a little consuming, but my tens of followers checked in daily to see what had popped out.

Then... it stopped.
I'm still not sure why.
Maybe I got consumed. By life... & the bustle... & the negative thoughts that no one needed to read.
And I found myself becoming less & less creative in ALL aspects of my life.
I relied more on stand-by recipes than imaginative concoctions.
Fewer "little touches" of decor were showing up.
Last year, I even sort of "forgot" where all the Christmas decorations went.

And a little hole inside me started growing.
And growing.

I was no longer creative... I was... mundane. (I like that word too.)

And as the little hole kept growing, I realized that I had stopped.
Stopped growing, stopped "doing", just... stopped.
And while I had stopped, the world kept right on whizzing past me.
And I started falling behind.

I watched others keep doing, & creating, & growing.

At first, I sort of sat back & wished, & watched, & stayed stuck.
Then, without really a conscious decision, I started moving again.
Slowly at first.
New recipes started showing up.
And a new wreath on the door.
And a photograph taken at an odd angle.
And a line of poetry.

And I started moving faster, falling back in step, finding my rhythm.

It's doubtful that I will challenge myself to write on a daily basis again.
Sometimes my mind is too busy creating other things.

But it feels good... to be moving... & doing... & growing.
Again.

The Mystery of the Pineapple Jasmine Rice

Once upon a time, I posted a recipe for Pineapple Jasmine Rice.
I posted it for a friend.
Without ever actually making it.

Oh, it was my own creation.
I suppose I "virtually" cooked it; combining ingredients I imagined would blend together well, using a basic recipe for jasmine rice that I used frequently, but totally ad libbing the pineapple... & ginger... & other things.

And I created a monster.
Well, not a monster per say.
Just the biggest draw to my little recipe blog to date.

Seriously.

Each & every day, that rice recipe gets the most clicks.
And from all over the world.
Of course the majority of my readers are from the US & Canada, but people all over the world seem to get a hankering for pineapple & jasmine rice... together.

Yep, people in Australia, Ireland, Colombia, Malaysia... even remote areas of Russia, log onto the Stuff We Eat on a daily basis for their rice fix.
It just makes me smile.

Who knew that 2 little ingredients would be my international claim to fame?!

I say this with a smile.

I never did it for the kudos, I post the recipes for 2 basic reasons.
First & foremost, so that my son has access to them & can dazzle his friends with his pancake & Creme Brulee skills.
But also because I have a tendency to create on the fly & finally realized that it might work better if I actually recorded what I did vs. standing in the kitchen the next time wondering just how in fact DID I make that (fill in the blank).

And, yes, I did eventually break down & make some Pineapple Jasmine Rice.
I mean, I had to see what the fuss was all about.
And it was pretty good.
Pretty darn good.

Mystery solved.

See for yourself: Pineapple Jasmine Rice