Honey Mustard Pasta Salad

I was asked to bring a salad to a Thanksgiving gathering and queried whether she meant green, pasta, jello, or other, to which she responded that it was my choice.  I've never made a pasta salad before and as I was in possession of neither greens nor jello, it seemed an opportune moment to experiment.  Now if you know anything about pasta salads or have ever googled a recipe pertaining thereto, you know the choices are infinite.  I wanted something a little more exciting than a basic mayo/ham/pea concoction but since that is what I had in my pantry and I didn't want to buy a lot of ingredients it would have to suffice.  I found a recipe for a honey mustard/mayo type and thought it sounded good but modified it using my honey mustard dressing recipe and the results were excellent.  Just tangy enough, just sweet enough, and just a little different.

Honey Mustard Pasta Salad:

Dressing:

Combine 1 1/2 cups salad dressing (miracle whip) with 1/3 cup each honey, vinegar, and yellow mustard, salt and pepper to taste.  For best results, let the dressing (or the entire salad) sit for at least 6 hours to allow flavors to blend.

For the salad:

Boil 16 oz of your favorite pasta (I like rotini) in salted water and cook until 'al dente' (firm to the bite), cool under running water.  Mix in whatever else you have/like.  I added 1/3 cup diced onion, 6 boiled eggs, 2/3 cup frozen peas, 2/3 cup diced ham, 2/3 cup shredded cheese.  Add dressing and mix well, you can add some milk if the salad is too dry, check every so often as it sits; mine needed about 2/3 cup but it made a nice creamy salad.  Chill and enjoy!

Twice Baked Potatoes

This is a tasty, handy, and filling side dish, meal, or appetizer for special occasions or group gatherings. The best part is you can pretty much modify it to your own tastes and with ingredients you have on hand.  I prepare it ahead of time, keep it in the fridge until needed, top it as desired, and then just throw it in the oven to heat through.

However many baked potatoes you would like (size, type, etc. to taste), cooled.

Cut each cooled potato in half lengthwise, scoop out the innards and place in a bowl, and set intact skin aside.  Mash potato innards with milk, butter, salt, pepper and seasoning to taste (onion, garlic, parmesan cheese…) and refill each skin.  Refrigerate until needed or top with preferred toppings (cheese, ham, onions, peppers, bacon…) and replace in oven, heat through and serve.

The Zombie Apocalypse

I don't get it, I really don't.  What's with the zombie craze?  Last year they showed up on my doorstep the day after Halloween asking for canned goods for the local food shelf.  This year, they were running all over main street (with a few teenage mutant ninja turtles) during our town's trick-or-treating event for little kids at the local businesses.  There's even a movie coming out somehow combining zombies and Jane Austen.   I think I'm the only one not onboard with the idea that a zombie apocalypse is a nice change from all the end of the world talk centering around climate change or the latest respiratory virus out of Asia.  Hey, if teenage mutant ninja turtles can make a comeback, why can't Y2K?

What is so fascinating about animated corpses that thirst after brain tissue?  Why would you want to dress up as one?  I really don't get it, in fact, I much prefer Y2K, at least with Y2K I don't have to try explaining to my three year old why that guy over there has an eyeball hanging out of its socket.  On the bright side, they aren't teletubbies (are those things still around?), which are probably the most frightening thing ever conceived by the mind of man (furbies are a close second).  Now there's an idea, forget Jane Austen and zombies, let's do zombies versus teletubbies!  Can I patent that?  I'm probably too late...

Going to pieces

I said I would never do it again, the last time it took me 20 years, this time it took me 48 hours.  My husband was gone for 2 days, so in the interim I succumbed to some sort of 'nesting' induced madness and cut out, sewed together, and hand stitched a binding on a Queen sized quilt.  My three year old and I binge watched Jane Austen movies and disney cartoons from the early 90's while I sewed like a maniac.  I am not a fervent sewer (I can sew a straight seam and that's about it) and I have no idea what got into me.  The great news is that I discovered a way to make a quilt without any actual quilting.  Last time I paid someone to do it, this time I just cheated.

Upon my marriage, I inherited a comforter of the same vintage as my beloved disney movies and it was the ugliest thing ever, never seeing the light of day unless a house full of guests invaded, requiring every blanket in my possession for their comfort; it was probably the worst dowry ever.  I ripped out the original seam and intended to use only the batting and the black fabric from the bottom, but the thing was so old and decrepit that one could literally see through the original fabric, instead, I just sewed a new quilt top over the entire thing then put on a new binding and voila, a quilt with no quilting.

I also had in my possession a set of queen size flannel sheets, and even though I love flannel sheets, I had never used these even though I had had them in my possession for 8 years.  Why?  I am not a cat loving spinster in my late 50's.  And while the giant, smiling snowmen on the flat sheet and the pillowcases were cute and no doubt impressed my mother (who meets the above description and bought said sheets on clearance and presented them to me as a christmas gift, little believing anyone could have taste differing so greatly from her own), I had never been forced by necessity to use them.  So I hacked them to shreds (or rather into blocks and binding strips), sewed them together and made a rather adorable (and soft) comforter.  What was unpalatable as a whole, was actually rather pleasing in six inch squares and will now find daily use in the colder months rather than moldering in my linen closet for another decade,

Immortal fish

Have you ever owned rent-a-fish?  That's what I used to dub the unhealthy, soon to die, fish you bought at the local giganto-box-store with their 90 day return policy.  I wouldn't recommend buying fish there if you want a happy tank, but as I lived 45 miles from anywhere and they were the only place open and selling fish at the time and day I was in town, and with their ludicrous return policy, why not?  So I'd buy a fish, it would die 2 weeks later, I'd stick it in the freezer (you had to take the dead fish back!), and go get a replacement (I also had a small tank, so I didn't have a whole community to infest with disease).

Now I live 80 miles from anywhere.  After the last fish died, I decided I wanted to try jellyfish.  Yes, jellyfish, in my five gallon freshwater tank.  Silicone jellyfish.  They won't die, they are immortal!  And at $2 a pop (including shipping) on Amazon, they are cheaper than most of my rent-a-fish and I don't have dead aquatic life in my freezer.  Who knows?  Maybe I am just talented enough to kill them too?

Queen of Socks

"Her home and her housekeeping, her parish and her poultry, 

and all their dependent concerns, had not yet lost their charms."  

~Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice~

I was rereading Pride and Prejudice the other day and ran across this little gem, referring to Charlotte's contentment in her situation as Mrs. Collins, even with such a husband.  Thankfully, I did not marry a man like Mr. Collins, but as a former apartment dwelling career woman turned mother, pastor's wife, and domestic diva, I certainly find this quote fascinating.  I was a tad nervous (nay terrified) to become a stay-at-home mother, imagining the drudgery of being trapped at home day and night with screaming, ill-behaved micro-ruffians with never a moment's peace, but as with many things in this life, I was gravely mistaken.  I have never had more fun, been more content, or felt more at peace with myself and my situation.

Modern society turns up its nose at the domestic arts, declaring vehemently that no self-respecting woman should be forced to mop floors and wipe noses nor would any sensible woman choose such a fate.  That is why they invented day care, take out, and cleaning services!  You work insane hours so you can afford to pay someone else to attend to all the tedious chores of simply staying alive.  That really makes very little sense if you think about it.  Why work yourself to death for the privilege of paying someone else to raise your kids and cook your meals and wash your socks?  Where is the living and life in that?  There may be very little glory in washing socks, but they're my socks and I washed them and only lost 3!  That's an accomplishment, isn't it?  Can you imagine my resume?  

It is amazing how attitudes have shifted, what once was a staple of any society: a woman running and managing the household, has become a thing to be wondered at.  Women have been the CEOs of their own homes since the dawn of time, and it is to their dedicated service that most societies owed their thriving and success.  They raised all the leaders and soldiers and craftsmen and philosophers, not to mention managed the affairs of their household so successfully that their husbands could attend to business and matters of state without worrying that their own personal interests would disintegrate without them.  These unsung heroes have been the cornerstone of society for generation upon generation, it is only in the modern world that we scoff at the very foundations of our life and prosperity, and the results are not hard to see.  Our families are falling apart, virtue is nonexistent, the stress and hecticness of our lives is unrivaled in history, and no one seems the happier for it, cynicism, discontent, and depression are rampant.

Like the prodigal son, our entire society has left home intent on pleasure and success, but as soon as our money runs out, so do our friends and fun, leaving us to wonder whyever we left home in the first place.  Kingdoms rise and fall, but home and family have always been the cornerstone of society and civilization and will ever be so while this world lasts.  And being a Queen of Socks is a vital role indeed!

Life Lessons from the Adoption Trenches

If you are an adoptive parent, or are thinking about taking the plunge, there are no doubt a few things this unique life experience will soon teach you that weren't mentioned in the instruction manual, if there is such a thing.  You've heard the horror stories (then they took the child away...) and the miracles (they were on the waiting list like three minutes!) and the complete nonsense (now that you're on the waiting list, you'll definitely get pregnant!), but still you have no idea what you are in for until you've lived through it, and everyone's experience is different, even if they've adopted more than once.  But here are a few strange truths most adoptive parents discover along the way:

• People really do mean well, even if they are nosy, ignorant, and have no concept of tact, at least most of them do.  I am not sure which is worse: people that think they know everything about adoption because they know someone who has adopted or they read an article once or the people that ask really awkward questions, loudly, in front of 57 strangers.  Your entire life story and that of your kids is now fair game to any and all comers, at least as far as they are concerned.  And just wait until you start getting advice about every aspect of the process and even parenting tips from people who have never adopted or even had kids.  Just think of it as another exercise in patience and a chance to develop your social skills on the topic, just try not to physically hurt anyone.

• No matter what you tell them, there are just some people that will never 'get it,' and insist that their ideas, opinions, or stories hold water, even if they have no basis in reality or applicability to your situation.  Don't waste your time or frustration on these people, just smile and nod then change the subject or find a convenient excuse to leave the situation.  Then go home and have a good laugh.

• You may feel like a criminal, a scoundrel, or have an overwhelming sense of guilt; for some weird reason, adoptive parents are sometimes viewed and occasionally treated, I hope unwittingly, by certain individuals, as if they lingered on the shady side of virtue.  How dare you 'take' a child away from its real parents!  You are not a kidnapper, no matter how that grumpy nurse or overly zealous social worker make you feel.  While the circumstances surrounding the adoption, whatever they be, that sunder a child from its biological parents are certainly grievous and sad, they are by no means your fault or illegal and no one should be making you feel that they are.

• You feel like you could work for the FBI or some other top secret agency after all the paper work, interviews, and background checks.  You really begin to wonder why everyone else can just go to the hospital, pop out a kid, and go home, no questions asked and why you still have to stand in line at the airport in your stocking feet after all that?  Shouldn't you at least get a card that says 'All Clear' or some such?

• Social workers are human too, and most of them are not out to destroy your chances of parenthood.  And yes, they will undoubtedly find something questionable in your life history that will make them question your fitness for parenthood, but after enough remedial classes, counseling sessions, and reading assignments, you just might make the cut, maybe, I hope…relax, you'll be fine.  Just try to relax and get through the home study, which is about like saying 'relax' to the person about to undergo a colonoscopy.  They tend to be a jumpy lot, and rightfully so as they are responsible for placing a child in a new family, but they do tend to flinch and gape at things that most other people hardly notice.  Let's just say I never mentioned that our son slept in his carseat the first four months of life as he absolutely refused to sleep in his crib.  Had he been our biological child, it would be an amusing anecdote, but as a recently placed adoptive child, our social worker might very well have had a heart attack and we'd be reading a stack of books on SIDS and flat-head syndrome and none of us would get any sleep for the next four months, which is obviously the far better alternative.

• You will occasionally be jealous, frustrated, and feel sorry for yourself as you go through life, especially if you have suffered through infertility along the way, and nobody will understand.  You are not a horrible person, you are human.  Becoming a parent is a desire wired into your very soul and when you watch others, especially those who abuse or neglect their kids, do so with ease, such a reaction is quite natural.  This does not mean you should wallow in the sensation or allow it to influence your behavior for the worse, but it will happen.  Baby showers/announcements, expectant friends, the maternity section at your favorite store, Mother's/Father's Day, any holiday except Groundhog's Day, stories about abused/neglected kids, unhelpful comments from friends/family/strangers, did I mention Gender Reveal Parties?, and a plethora of other triggers all seemingly designed to ruin your mood/day are lurking just around the corner.  And while you learn to deal with the grief, even after you adopt, it will never quite go away.

• Wherever they came from, whatever their age, nationality, gender, or whatever, they are and will always be your kids and could be no dearer had you borne them yourself, even if it wasn't 'love at first sight,' which it never is.  Even when they 'hate' you and pine for their 'real' parents; every parent puts up with this, biological children just don't have the convenient option of flinging their birth parents in your face, but they'll find something else with which to batter your emotions.  Welcome to parenthood!

• No matter how awful, dreadful, tedious, and expensive, no matter how hard you swear it won't happen again, it just might.  This parent thing is kind of addictive.