I'm gonna call it, folks. This week. It's time for it to end.
It's been a challenging season at work of late, for a litany of reasons that wouldn't make a bit of sense to you unless you worked in the office next to me for the past lots-of months. No need to chase that rabbit.
But this week in particular, I felt ill-equipped, inadequate, and flailing. Like I never had answers, or direction, or skills, and that every step I took was the wrong one.
Do you know this feeling? The devil loves it. He loves it when we're feeling trapped in the dead of winter.
But, spring is peeking through, literally and figuratively. And when spring comes, so does renewal, and life. There are some seeds that want to sprout, if you nurture them, and grow them.
So this week, while I felt beaten down by the proverbial winter, I stepped a little into spring, into something new, and started an online beginner's class, to learn Adobe Illustrator.
I'm not dreaming of a second career in graphic design. But to have even my tip toes in the sea of creativity is refreshing, and invigorating.
It makes me thankful for spring, and for the promise of new things to come.
Has spring creeped into your world yet? Have you felt that spring itch, where you're ready for a seed to sprout?
Go on, be grateful!
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
how to use the crock pot to your advantage when entertaining {loaded ranch potatoes}
Whether I'm entertaining one or fifteen, and whether those guests are family, friends, or strangers, these are my two rules for menu planning:
know your audience // Don't serve caviar to the people who really just want a steak and potatoes.
allow one menu item to be a star // Whether it's just a new recipe you're wanting to try out, or a go-to recipe that requires a little more effort, or maybe it's both of those things, pick just one item to be your "wow" factor.
Although the crock pot isn't glamorous, it is mighty functional, and I'm learning to use it to my advantage, even when company is over.
This recipe was perfect for friends who love traditional, southern fare, and it was also my one star menu item, because it was cheesy and indulgent (unlike the grilled chicken and steamed green beans that accompanied it).
Loaded Ranch Potatoes
Serves 4-6
1 bag of diced frozen hash browns
1 8-oz. container of cream cheese, softened
1 c. shredded cheddar cheese
1 can cream of potato soup
1 packet Ranch dressing mix
* I think these could be pretty spectacular with crumbled bacon in there, and maybe some sliced green onions on top for a little pizazz?
And one final word of caution: don't even tempt yourself if you're shunning carbs. Don't. Do it.
know your audience // Don't serve caviar to the people who really just want a steak and potatoes.
allow one menu item to be a star // Whether it's just a new recipe you're wanting to try out, or a go-to recipe that requires a little more effort, or maybe it's both of those things, pick just one item to be your "wow" factor.
Although the crock pot isn't glamorous, it is mighty functional, and I'm learning to use it to my advantage, even when company is over.
This recipe was perfect for friends who love traditional, southern fare, and it was also my one star menu item, because it was cheesy and indulgent (unlike the grilled chicken and steamed green beans that accompanied it).
Loaded Ranch Potatoes
Serves 4-6
1 bag of diced frozen hash browns
1 8-oz. container of cream cheese, softened
1 c. shredded cheddar cheese
1 can cream of potato soup
1 packet Ranch dressing mix
- Spray crock pot with cooking spray, and place hash browns in the bottom.
- In a mixing bowl, combine cream cheese, cheddar cheese, potato soup, and Ranch dressing mix. Spread evenly onto the top of the hash browns.
- Cook on low for 4 hours. Stir gently before serving. (I actually transferred the potatoes to a serving dish just before eating, so they were still warm. Or serve them straight from the crock if presentation is not a priority. Which is usually how I roll with my closest friends and family.)
* I think these could be pretty spectacular with crumbled bacon in there, and maybe some sliced green onions on top for a little pizazz?
* The original recipe called for double everything listed above, which I thought was crazy. I have a 6-qt. crock pot, and I'm not sure double all of that goodness would fit in there. Just fully disclosing.
* I also think the original recipe was called "Ranch Potatoes," but they tasted far superior, like the filling in twice-baked potatoes, which is, well, loaded. So I just named it myself. No harm, no foul.
And one final word of caution: don't even tempt yourself if you're shunning carbs. Don't. Do it.
Monday, March 24, 2014
hello monday (greet spring)
Somehow the sunshine and warmer temperatures make Mondays a little more bearable, don't you think? How about some hellos, for the first time since the time change?
Hello, Mom's birthday!
Hello, countdown to Italy.
You started at 200-some-odd days, and now you're at 32. Happy, happy.
------------------------------------
Hello, learning something new.
Hello, outdoor grill.
What in your world has you greeting spring?
------------------------------------
Hello, Mom's birthday!
So glad I got to celebrate her this weekend.
------------------------------------
It's called "Rose Bowl" by Essie. Puts me in the mood for spring!
Hello, fun pop of spring color on my fingernails.
------------------------------------
Hello, countdown to Italy.
------------------------------------
Hello, learning something new.
I'm excited about some online beginner classes for Adobe Illustrator.
It's good to stretch the brain and learn a new skill.
------------------------------------
Hello, outdoor grill.
I sure have enjoyed giving you a chance to shine this week.
What in your world has you greeting spring?
Sunday, March 23, 2014
make new friends, but keep the old
When I lived in my tiny house in Starkville, it had a tiny dining room that called for a tiny table. I searched long and hard for the perfect tiny table, and I found it one day in a tiny store in a tiny town where Mr. Bobby and Miss Judy lived.
It was in the top floor of an antique store called Pear Tree Corner, and when I saw it in the middle of the junk pile, I knew it was mine to have. Mr. Bobby and Miss Judy took me back to their house, to let me think about it, but I didn't really need to think about it.
Miss Judy knew the owner, and even called her to negotiate the price on my behalf, because negotiating anything made me anxious. Still does.
I love my tiny table. I love it for all the meals I've shared around it. And I love it because it holds sweet memories of Mr. Bobby and Miss Judy, and the tiny antique store in Eupora, Mississippi.
It has served me well, except that it's only capable of serving me and three more friends at a time, four if we squeeze.
About two years ago, I made the decision to begin the hunt for the next perfect table, since I have a little more space here, but knowing, of course, that I'd never say good-bye to my tiny table. It means too much!
Per usual, it took me every bit of the past two years to find him, but he's finally home. Want to meet him?
I love that he'll easily seat six or eight, with room in the middle for holding bowls and platters for guests to pass.
He's got this strong, masculine x-base underneath, right in the middle. That means no bruises on the knees. Or maybe sticking an extra chair on the corner in a pinch. Love that.
And his grain is so handsome. Natural and a little bit rustic. Worn and lived in, like a family's favorite picnic table.
My tiny table is repurposed in the guest bedroom for now, because I won't be parting with that sweet thing anytime soon.
But I expect this guy to be just as hospitable as my tiny table was, and provide a place where friends and family will gather, break bread together, and linger, with full bellies and happy hearts.
It was in the top floor of an antique store called Pear Tree Corner, and when I saw it in the middle of the junk pile, I knew it was mine to have. Mr. Bobby and Miss Judy took me back to their house, to let me think about it, but I didn't really need to think about it.
Miss Judy knew the owner, and even called her to negotiate the price on my behalf, because negotiating anything made me anxious. Still does.
I love my tiny table. I love it for all the meals I've shared around it. And I love it because it holds sweet memories of Mr. Bobby and Miss Judy, and the tiny antique store in Eupora, Mississippi.
It has served me well, except that it's only capable of serving me and three more friends at a time, four if we squeeze.
About two years ago, I made the decision to begin the hunt for the next perfect table, since I have a little more space here, but knowing, of course, that I'd never say good-bye to my tiny table. It means too much!
Per usual, it took me every bit of the past two years to find him, but he's finally home. Want to meet him?
I love that he'll easily seat six or eight, with room in the middle for holding bowls and platters for guests to pass.
He's got this strong, masculine x-base underneath, right in the middle. That means no bruises on the knees. Or maybe sticking an extra chair on the corner in a pinch. Love that.
And his grain is so handsome. Natural and a little bit rustic. Worn and lived in, like a family's favorite picnic table.
My tiny table is repurposed in the guest bedroom for now, because I won't be parting with that sweet thing anytime soon.
But I expect this guy to be just as hospitable as my tiny table was, and provide a place where friends and family will gather, break bread together, and linger, with full bellies and happy hearts.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
thankful thursday #174
I've written before about how, over the past few years, I've been lucky enough to have actual work that happens on occasion in my home town. It's been an obvious source of gratitude, that I could hang out with my family while in town for work.
A few months ago, we had some rearranging and reorganizing in the office, and that particular home town account was shifted off my plate and onto someone else's. My poor dad asked, "Are you ever going to come home again?"
Of course I am.
Tomorrow I'm heading home just because! Mom's birthday is Monday, so I can spend some time celebrating her a little bit early, welcoming spring in one of loveliest towns in Georgia, and enjoying being home.
Just because.
Do you have some fun weekend plans, just because? Go on, be grateful!
Sunday, March 16, 2014
the day i tried quinoa for the first time
At the start of the new year, I shared some goals for 2014, and the food I wanted to try was quinoa.
I first heard about this protein-packed grain a few years ago when the gluten-free craze was overtaking the world. Those culinary fads usually make me roll my eyes, because I love foods because they taste great, not because they're trendy.
I'd been afraid of it, too, because experts call it a "super-food," and as so many super-foods go, I feared it would taste like cardboard. Or dirt.
But I do like to experiment in the kitchen, and if quinoa is as awesome as everyone says, I'm willing to try it out (albeit seven years after it makes headlines).
So I did this weekend.
Given the "this may taste like cardboard" reservation, I decided to try it first in a prepared salad, to ease myself into the World of Quinoa.
It worked. If you're new to quinoa, try this (and don't be intimidated by the long ingredient list; you'll have most of it in your pantry):
Mexican Quinoa Salad
Serves 6 as a side, 4 as an entree
1 c. uncooked quinoa
2 c. chicken broth (or you can just use water)
1/2 red onion, diced
1 clove garlic, crushed
3/8 c. lemon juice
1/2 c. chopped fresh parsley
1/2 c. chopped fresh cilantro
1 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. dried basil
1/2 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp. onion powder
1/4 tsp. garlic powder
salt, to taste
1 (16-oz.) can black beans, rinsed and drained
1 (15-oz.) can corn, drained
1 (2.25-oz.) can sliced black olives
1 large tomato, diced small
2-4 Tbsp. olive oil
This was so delicious with some grilled chicken, and I ate it for lunch as leftovers. I feel like a super-food super-hero right now. So. Much. Protein.
Have you already been on the quinoa bandwagon? Let me hear your favorite recipes!
I first heard about this protein-packed grain a few years ago when the gluten-free craze was overtaking the world. Those culinary fads usually make me roll my eyes, because I love foods because they taste great, not because they're trendy.
I'd been afraid of it, too, because experts call it a "super-food," and as so many super-foods go, I feared it would taste like cardboard. Or dirt.
But I do like to experiment in the kitchen, and if quinoa is as awesome as everyone says, I'm willing to try it out (albeit seven years after it makes headlines).
So I did this weekend.
Given the "this may taste like cardboard" reservation, I decided to try it first in a prepared salad, to ease myself into the World of Quinoa.
It worked. If you're new to quinoa, try this (and don't be intimidated by the long ingredient list; you'll have most of it in your pantry):
Mexican Quinoa Salad
Serves 6 as a side, 4 as an entree
1 c. uncooked quinoa
2 c. chicken broth (or you can just use water)
1/2 red onion, diced
1 clove garlic, crushed
3/8 c. lemon juice
1/2 c. chopped fresh parsley
1/2 c. chopped fresh cilantro
1 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. dried basil
1/2 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp. onion powder
1/4 tsp. garlic powder
salt, to taste
1 (16-oz.) can black beans, rinsed and drained
1 (15-oz.) can corn, drained
1 (2.25-oz.) can sliced black olives
1 large tomato, diced small
2-4 Tbsp. olive oil
- Cook quinoa according to package instructions (using chicken broth instead of water, if you'd like). Let cool.
- In a large bowl, mix together quinoa, diced onion, garlic, and lemon juice. (I let the crushed garlic clove simply flavor the lemon juice. I took it out before serving.)
- Stir into quinoa mixture the parsley and cilantro, seasonings, black beans, corn, olives, and tomatoes. Season with salt to taste.
- Drizzle the salad with olive oil just before serving, or on your single-serving plate. (I'd probably not drizzle any portion that may be leftovers; I think it might congeal in the fridge and be gross.)
This was so delicious with some grilled chicken, and I ate it for lunch as leftovers. I feel like a super-food super-hero right now. So. Much. Protein.
Have you already been on the quinoa bandwagon? Let me hear your favorite recipes!
Thursday, March 13, 2014
thankful thursday #173
For the first time in probably ten years, I did not travel to a conference basketball tournament for work this week.
It meant that I stayed back at the office, was productive in the quiet, refrained from all manual labor, and reclaimed two weekends in March that are typically spent in airports and rental cars.
It meant that I avoided working outdoors in the freezing cold, wind, and rain. I got a head start on some other projects at work that usually hang out on the back burner until the end of the month. I hosted a friend here in town for a night that I wouldn't have gotten to do otherwise.
Call me selfish or lazy or a home-body or what-have-you, but I quite liked it.
I miss my work pals this week, but man, I'm thankful to have spent this week in my own boring routine.
Have you found yourself happily tucked in to an ordinary week? If you have, go on, be grateful!
It meant that I stayed back at the office, was productive in the quiet, refrained from all manual labor, and reclaimed two weekends in March that are typically spent in airports and rental cars.
It meant that I avoided working outdoors in the freezing cold, wind, and rain. I got a head start on some other projects at work that usually hang out on the back burner until the end of the month. I hosted a friend here in town for a night that I wouldn't have gotten to do otherwise.
Call me selfish or lazy or a home-body or what-have-you, but I quite liked it.
I miss my work pals this week, but man, I'm thankful to have spent this week in my own boring routine.
Have you found yourself happily tucked in to an ordinary week? If you have, go on, be grateful!
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
complaining and caveats
Recently I read this comment about complaining and caveats:
One thing that always surprises me about [posts about struggling] is when people throw in caveats along the lines of, "I know I shouldn't be complaining, since other people have it so much harder." ... I never think those caveats are necessary. I can't remember a time when I had the reaction of thinking that someone has no right to vent about whatever is troubling them.
[it was from here, if you care]
The sentiment sort of resonated with me, and I felt torn between two camps.
Certainly everyone has a right to vent. I'd suggest that venting can even be authentic and helpful sometimes, and maybe even warranted.
And seemingly, it's biblical.
We know that in this world we'll have trouble (John 16:33). That trouble may be trivial, or it may be traumatic, but either way, we should expect it (1 Peter 4:12).
The Psalms are filled with heart-wrenching laments that are vulnerable and raw, and they're beautiful pictures of God's people crying out to the Lord in heartache and despair.
I think that pleases the Lord, because we know that Jesus cares about what we care about. That he wants us to cast all of those burdens on him.
On the other hand, I have wrestled hard with this business of first world problems, and convinced myself that God doesn't care to hear about them, frankly. That those complaints are worthy of a caveat.
The other day in a local retail store I overheard a high schooler complaining that her grandparents were making her leave at 1:00 a.m. for Cabo.
I braced for lightening to strike us in that store at any moment. From the clear blue skies outside.
Several months ago, I heard a woman in my very own church lamenting at how tired she was, after having spent all day shopping for new dining room furniture.
These are true stories, people.
In those moments, I think, No. No! We do NOT have a right to complain about that. I can't bring myself to believe that Jesus is moved with compassion when he hears those thoughts.
Check out Numbers 11:1.
Now when the people complained, it displeased the Lord; for the Lord heard it, and His anger was aroused.
It's pretty clear that he has a short fuse for certain kinds of complaining.
So then, how do I reconcile a God who wants us to pour out our hearts to him, with a God who surely can not be pleased with our exasperation over first world problems?
Listen. Jesus is not intimidated by our complaints, no matter where they land on the scale of ridiculous to legitimate. And he'll know if those laments are coming from a clean heart or not. He just knows, people.
But when I find myself in whine-mode next time, I might ask myself these questions, just to keep myself in check:
do my complaints also grieve the Holy Spirit? // Because I kind of think the answer will very often be a resounding No.
am I trusting the Lord in my complaints, that he is good and holy, and wants the best for me? // Because if I really believe that, I will feel hopeful toward that end.
am I remembering that Jesus relates to how I feel? // Because I think that helps, to know that he's been there, done that.
is the Lord rebuking me in this complaint? // Because on those days when my heart isn't so clean, I bet he will have a word of correction for me.
is my complaint one of despair and heartbreak, or is it just me being spoiled? // Because I know God cares about my heartache, but not so much about my comfort.
And as for the girl who has to leave at 1:00 a.m. for Cabo, or the lady who was tired from furniture shopping, they should probably try digging deep and finding some gratitude. (A Thankful Thursday, perhaps?)
How do you feel about complaining and our caveats?
One thing that always surprises me about [posts about struggling] is when people throw in caveats along the lines of, "I know I shouldn't be complaining, since other people have it so much harder." ... I never think those caveats are necessary. I can't remember a time when I had the reaction of thinking that someone has no right to vent about whatever is troubling them.
[it was from here, if you care]
The sentiment sort of resonated with me, and I felt torn between two camps.
Certainly everyone has a right to vent. I'd suggest that venting can even be authentic and helpful sometimes, and maybe even warranted.
And seemingly, it's biblical.
We know that in this world we'll have trouble (John 16:33). That trouble may be trivial, or it may be traumatic, but either way, we should expect it (1 Peter 4:12).
The Psalms are filled with heart-wrenching laments that are vulnerable and raw, and they're beautiful pictures of God's people crying out to the Lord in heartache and despair.
I think that pleases the Lord, because we know that Jesus cares about what we care about. That he wants us to cast all of those burdens on him.
On the other hand, I have wrestled hard with this business of first world problems, and convinced myself that God doesn't care to hear about them, frankly. That those complaints are worthy of a caveat.
The other day in a local retail store I overheard a high schooler complaining that her grandparents were making her leave at 1:00 a.m. for Cabo.
I braced for lightening to strike us in that store at any moment. From the clear blue skies outside.
Several months ago, I heard a woman in my very own church lamenting at how tired she was, after having spent all day shopping for new dining room furniture.
These are true stories, people.
In those moments, I think, No. No! We do NOT have a right to complain about that. I can't bring myself to believe that Jesus is moved with compassion when he hears those thoughts.
Check out Numbers 11:1.
Now when the people complained, it displeased the Lord; for the Lord heard it, and His anger was aroused.
It's pretty clear that he has a short fuse for certain kinds of complaining.
So then, how do I reconcile a God who wants us to pour out our hearts to him, with a God who surely can not be pleased with our exasperation over first world problems?
Listen. Jesus is not intimidated by our complaints, no matter where they land on the scale of ridiculous to legitimate. And he'll know if those laments are coming from a clean heart or not. He just knows, people.
But when I find myself in whine-mode next time, I might ask myself these questions, just to keep myself in check:
do my complaints also grieve the Holy Spirit? // Because I kind of think the answer will very often be a resounding No.
am I trusting the Lord in my complaints, that he is good and holy, and wants the best for me? // Because if I really believe that, I will feel hopeful toward that end.
am I remembering that Jesus relates to how I feel? // Because I think that helps, to know that he's been there, done that.
is the Lord rebuking me in this complaint? // Because on those days when my heart isn't so clean, I bet he will have a word of correction for me.
is my complaint one of despair and heartbreak, or is it just me being spoiled? // Because I know God cares about my heartache, but not so much about my comfort.
And as for the girl who has to leave at 1:00 a.m. for Cabo, or the lady who was tired from furniture shopping, they should probably try digging deep and finding some gratitude. (A Thankful Thursday, perhaps?)
How do you feel about complaining and our caveats?
Thursday, March 6, 2014
thankful thursday #172
This past week, winter weather struck again and delayed my travel out of Raleigh, North Carolina back to Birmingham.
(Merciful Lord, when will it ever end?)
As it happened, I inherited a two-hour layover in Atlanta in the C Terminal. I spent the first hour near Gate 43. It wasn't my inbound or outbound gate, but it was empty and offered a quiet corner for a quick phone call home to catch up with Mom, and a text conversation with Kari. Kari's dad had landed at the Atlanta airport, too, but was in another terminal and would not be able to make it to me before my board time.
After that, I gathered my belongings and moved down to my outbound gate to confirm that my flight was still on time, and still departing from Gate 52. It was.
I settled into a chair, reached for my iPhone, and opened up the USA Today app, my favorite news source.
Is this seat taken?
I looked up from my seat and saw that Kari's sweet dad -- my second dad! -- had, in fact, made it to Gate 52 for a quick visit. Oh, happy day!
We chatted for thirty minutes or so, and I didn't even care that my flight was delayed another short spell. I was so grateful for an impromptu hug and face-to-face visit with someone from home, even if we did have to magically cross paths at Gate 52 of the Atlanta airport.
Has a fun twist of luck struck you this week? Go on, be grateful!
(Merciful Lord, when will it ever end?)
As it happened, I inherited a two-hour layover in Atlanta in the C Terminal. I spent the first hour near Gate 43. It wasn't my inbound or outbound gate, but it was empty and offered a quiet corner for a quick phone call home to catch up with Mom, and a text conversation with Kari. Kari's dad had landed at the Atlanta airport, too, but was in another terminal and would not be able to make it to me before my board time.
After that, I gathered my belongings and moved down to my outbound gate to confirm that my flight was still on time, and still departing from Gate 52. It was.
I settled into a chair, reached for my iPhone, and opened up the USA Today app, my favorite news source.
Is this seat taken?
I looked up from my seat and saw that Kari's sweet dad -- my second dad! -- had, in fact, made it to Gate 52 for a quick visit. Oh, happy day!
We chatted for thirty minutes or so, and I didn't even care that my flight was delayed another short spell. I was so grateful for an impromptu hug and face-to-face visit with someone from home, even if we did have to magically cross paths at Gate 52 of the Atlanta airport.
Has a fun twist of luck struck you this week? Go on, be grateful!
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