'Tis the season

This time of year I spend a lot of time planning.

Or - that is - I used to.

My son is growing up. He's not a little boy anymore and doesn't want a lot of little things. Instead, he wants one big expensive thing.

His dad and I have tried not to spoil him but undoubtedly, we have. It's not a bad kind of spoiled where he throws himself on the ground and cries until he gets what he wants. He's NEVER done that in his life.

No, instead it's a total shock and awe when what he wants doesn't materialize. He believes in the magic of Christmas. Heck, I am pretty sure he still believes in Santa Claus. Not getting what he wants isn't even a thought. It's not his reality.

Kids who believe get what they want.

If my son was an awful beast of a kid, I wouldn't worry too much about making that magic real for him. The thing is he's pretty awesome. He's funny and smart and usually pretty good company. He's not perfect. He's a teenager. We all know how that goes. His good, true qualities make the other crap livable. Ignorable even.

This year he wants an Alienware computer for Christmas. The most expensive gaming computer on the market that I know of. Heck there might be more expensive ones, I don't know. I know that an Alienware is the dream of a lot of gamers. Branding, I guess. It makes the gamers hearts beat stronger.

What am I going to do????

A politics of hope

As happy as I want to be

Going to get a little preachy for a minute so if you don't want to hear (read) it, please turn away and ignore me politely.

Yesterday I posted a quote from Abraham Lincoln on my FB about being happy. It said - and I simplify - that we are going to be about as happy as we let ourselves be. I could spend a great deal of time telling you all the reasons I have NOT to be happy and about how everyone has problems and how it's all relative but that doesn't matter, really.

What matters is everyday that you spend on THIS side of the dirt is a GOOD day. You can make changes and choices and decisions. You can start over. The sun rising every morning is the very definition of a new start. You can be a KIND soul in this world. Even if it feels like it kicks you in the teeth, you can choose to give back nothing but good things. It's YOUR choice. Yours.

And being a good person sets the RIGHT example. It shows people that you're going to rise above it. You're going to see it thru to the next sunrise. Yes it SUCKS just to be human sometimes but someone somewhere ALWAYS has it worse than you.

That's a fact.

I think that counting your blessings this time of year is so terribly, terribly important.

Adventures in Pressure Cooking

Ok. So I made meat chili last night and it was delicious but a tad bit too hot for my tastes. If I make it again, I'll cut back on the chilies. We all LOVED the flavors the pressure cooker created BUT we couldn't finish it. Too hot. Crazy hot. My lips were vibrating.

The cooker worked fine. Perfectly. It did everything it was supposed to do and in a timely fashion which is why we all want them, right? Convenience. We want good food but we want it fast but we don't want fast food. (You see where I went with that? Yeah. I'm clever.)

Brett and I have an appointment with our attorney this evening (no worries, it's just regarding the sale of our old house) so I wont be cooking tonight BUT tomorrow night, I am going to make Pork chops. I'm excited about it.

The pork chop recipe is sinfully simple. Just chops, an onion, potatoes and some steak sauce. And of course water. I have discovered that an onion is universal ingredient in most (if not all) pressure cooker recipes. It's always there - 2nd or 3rd on the list. One onion. We love our damn onions.

Finding recipes has been fairly simple. There are dozens of websites that focus on this method of cooking. One I am particularly intrigued with is Hip Pressure Cooking. They don't have A LOT of recipes but it looks promising. They vary from the norm you see out there. It's not all mac & cheese recipes and boiled chicken. Because, I don't know about you, but boiled chicken makes me want to retch. The meat is fine but the skin and the bones are like something out of a Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Revolting.

Anyway.

It's nearly October and that means scary books, scary movies, the start of Pancake Sundays and warm, rich, comforting foods.

We'll see how it goes.

We are a dog family. We have always had and always will have dogs. I have never been a huge fan of cats, you see, I just don't trust them.

This is one of our brood - his name is Mr. Taco. He is cuddly and sweet and obviously adorable. Mr. Taco would be the perfect if he wasn't such a barker. Everything upsets him and he runs around the house barking. It's not just a normal-ish bark, either. It's this high pitched, biting down on ice cubes type howl. There's no stopping him, either. He's just got to go until he gets it out of his system.

We've tried all sorts of training methods - nothing works. You've got to love him because I can't imagine anyone else putting up with him. It's all right. He is a member of the family.

You know how you get so used to a thing? A certain way of life. As odd as it might be it becomes like breathing. Living with Mr. Taco is like that. We are so used to snuggling with him and holding him tight; our lives wouldn't be our lives without him.

Working on a set of cross stitch hand towels for my kitchen. This one is just about finished.

Once he was 3

Miles. My one and only child. He's 12 and a bundle of life, love and disaster. Are boys just pre-disposed to randomly falling over? And touching the wall? Why must they always touch the walls? Is it to steady themselves so they don't fall over again? Boys are a mystery.