Today is a Hungry Day. Little One is nursing in rapid machine-gun fire bursts due to her teething blues and I have no time to sit down and plan out a healthy, satisfying, tasty snack. I barely have time to slurp coffee with one hand while I put her in the sling with the other.
Thanks heavens for the microwave and for inspiration (desperation?) because I managed to hit upon a fast, blissful snack that can be healthy-- or not-- depending on what you do with it. I just used what I had on hand but if you substitute reduced fat or fat free cheese you can up the health-o-meter quite a bit.
5 Minute Bacon and Cheese Snackwich
Ingredients
1 Arnold's multigrain sandwich thin
2 slices turkey bacon
1-2 slices Provolone (or other sliced cheese)
Instructions
Microwave bacon to desired crispiness. Blot to remove excess grease.
Fold bacon to fit on sandwich thin, cover with sliced cheese.
Microwave an additional 20 seconds or until cheese is gooey.
Pick up. Blow on fingers. Eat. Enjoy.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Makeover!
Blog redecorating is just about as fun as house redecorating only much less expensive. I got tired of the drab colors so I've changed things around and even gotten fancy with the fonts. Thanks to dafont.com for the cool (and free!) typography!
Maybe now that things look better I'll get around to posting more....my craft blog has been keeping me busy. I hope all you Fearless Readers enjoy the new look as much as I do.
Maybe now that things look better I'll get around to posting more....my craft blog has been keeping me busy. I hope all you Fearless Readers enjoy the new look as much as I do.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
snow fall
take me like snow
falling
hold me on the edge of melting
on your tongue
then let me dissolve
into winter kiss
let us blanket the ground
and give no thought
to spring
falling
hold me on the edge of melting
on your tongue
then let me dissolve
into winter kiss
let us blanket the ground
and give no thought
to spring
Friday, November 6, 2009
We Carry Them
We are both wearing babies, me and this girl, barely eight.
I am folding laundry and she is walking for water, or for food,
or away from bullets, from fire, from rape. We are both barefoot,
but I am standing on carpet and she is crossing sand,
wading through deserts. We have both made our carrying cloths
but mine is soft and clean while hers is a tired shawl, barely a rag.
I want to take her into my house and hold the baby so she can rest.
I want to feed her macaroni and cheese, to give her my shoes and
my good jacket. I want to knit her a hat and make the baby a blanket.
I want to tell her that wherever she is going, she will find shelter
and that the baby will live.
It's easy to have these good intentions towards a photograph.
Nothing is required but sympathy, that delicate ache that rises and falls
like an ocean swell....and that can be just as fleeting. It would be
easy to turn away from the picture and forget both of them by the time
I finish putting away towels. Chalk it up to a moment of rich American guilt
and move on. After all, the things I want to do are silly and impossible.
She's half a world away, buried under war and hunger and plague like
a survivor of earthquake under a collapsed house. It seems foolish-- even arrogant-- to think that I can do one thing to help her or the thousands upon thousands like her. It's like trying to stop the tsunami of human pain with
a bucket.
But I know Someone who can help her, who knows her name and the name of
the baby on her back, Someone who fathers the fatherless. When I pray for her,
He listens. And I have to believe that my kindness matters, even if she can't receive it herself. All of the tiny threads of love-- carrying my child, cooking for my daughter, teaching little ones about God, giving what I have so that others may go serve-- form a web that can blanket the world. I cannot love her but I can love those within my reach, and they may love those in their reach, and link by link the chain stretches even to Africa. Blessed are the feet that may take her the gospel, blessed are the hands that may give her a cup of cold water cold water in His name. May my feet and hands be blessings to those in front of me.
I am folding laundry and she is walking for water, or for food,
or away from bullets, from fire, from rape. We are both barefoot,
but I am standing on carpet and she is crossing sand,
wading through deserts. We have both made our carrying cloths
but mine is soft and clean while hers is a tired shawl, barely a rag.
I want to take her into my house and hold the baby so she can rest.
I want to feed her macaroni and cheese, to give her my shoes and
my good jacket. I want to knit her a hat and make the baby a blanket.
I want to tell her that wherever she is going, she will find shelter
and that the baby will live.
It's easy to have these good intentions towards a photograph.
Nothing is required but sympathy, that delicate ache that rises and falls
like an ocean swell....and that can be just as fleeting. It would be
easy to turn away from the picture and forget both of them by the time
I finish putting away towels. Chalk it up to a moment of rich American guilt
and move on. After all, the things I want to do are silly and impossible.
She's half a world away, buried under war and hunger and plague like
a survivor of earthquake under a collapsed house. It seems foolish-- even arrogant-- to think that I can do one thing to help her or the thousands upon thousands like her. It's like trying to stop the tsunami of human pain with
a bucket.
But I know Someone who can help her, who knows her name and the name of
the baby on her back, Someone who fathers the fatherless. When I pray for her,
He listens. And I have to believe that my kindness matters, even if she can't receive it herself. All of the tiny threads of love-- carrying my child, cooking for my daughter, teaching little ones about God, giving what I have so that others may go serve-- form a web that can blanket the world. I cannot love her but I can love those within my reach, and they may love those in their reach, and link by link the chain stretches even to Africa. Blessed are the feet that may take her the gospel, blessed are the hands that may give her a cup of cold water cold water in His name. May my feet and hands be blessings to those in front of me.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Ether
You pull me out of the ether
down from the nebulous dark
When my heart drifts,
a black balloon under blacker clouds,
you tether me to earth
with your cry, your hunger,
your relentless need.
I never knew that
helplessness could be so powerful
that you are caring for me
by your inability
to care for yourself.
Your fear makes me
brave
Your weakness gives me
strength
You pull me down out of the ether
out of the nebulous dark
You shepherd me through storms
until we rest by still waters,
until we sleep on solid ground.
down from the nebulous dark
When my heart drifts,
a black balloon under blacker clouds,
you tether me to earth
with your cry, your hunger,
your relentless need.
I never knew that
helplessness could be so powerful
that you are caring for me
by your inability
to care for yourself.
Your fear makes me
brave
Your weakness gives me
strength
You pull me down out of the ether
out of the nebulous dark
You shepherd me through storms
until we rest by still waters,
until we sleep on solid ground.
Friday, October 2, 2009
A Laundry Prayer
Lord,
Thank you for this pile of laundry.
Thank you
that my house is filled with people whom I love
who have health and vigor enough to get dirty,
who live and laugh well in their clothes,
which you have provided.
Thank you
for machines to help me wash and dry,
for the little hands that help me fold,
for the closets and drawers to hold what is clean.
Thank you
for baby drool on my t-shirts
and chocolate milk spots on my daughter's playdress,
for the endless parade of dirty work socks in my husband's boots.
These things are the footprints of blessing
and if those footprints are at times muddy,
it is a grace that we may tidy up in their path.
Thank you for this pile of laundry.
Thank you
that my house is filled with people whom I love
who have health and vigor enough to get dirty,
who live and laugh well in their clothes,
which you have provided.
Thank you
for machines to help me wash and dry,
for the little hands that help me fold,
for the closets and drawers to hold what is clean.
Thank you
for baby drool on my t-shirts
and chocolate milk spots on my daughter's playdress,
for the endless parade of dirty work socks in my husband's boots.
These things are the footprints of blessing
and if those footprints are at times muddy,
it is a grace that we may tidy up in their path.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Skinny Saturdays: What Goes Up
Today was my first week back on the Weight Watcher wagon and I went up-- seven ounces. Not the most spectacular start, but in some ways it's more motivating than a loss. I remember now how hard it is to lose weight and how much focus, drive, and genuine lifestyle change is required. I have to ask myself why I'm back on the program-- to convince myself I'm making an effort so I can feel better or to truly change my relationship with food so I can live better.
I'd like to say I know for sure which one it is. I'm not thrilled at the thought of giving up the drive-thru hamburgers and french fries, the chocolate and the cookies; I'm not ecstatic at resuming my clumsy and awkward attempts at an exercise regime. Eating wrong is effortless. This time around, I'm more aware of what is required for long-term weight loss. Life overhaul anyone?
Small starts. This week is the launch of my incredible ingeniously inspired Pounds of Yarn project. Fast food is keeping me fat. The illusion of convenience, the easy gratification....it's looking for love in all the wrong places. I needed to find something I loved more than Wendy's. Hello yarn.
For some reason, I have lately been struck by the inexplicable desire to Knit Something Big. Something exquisite, something indulgent, something voluptuous. Then, as if the stars themselves were aligned for me, I discovered Cherry Tree Hill's design contest, a challenge featuring their beautiful new line of semi-solid hand-dyed yarn. The rules called for substantial garments of at least six skeins, which fit my Big Knitting dream perfectly.
So over the next few weeks, the twenty bucks a week I've been blowing on artery-killing hamburgers will be going for yarn. I'm designing a full skirt that will satisfy my knitting muse and keep me out of the drive-through. My goal is to be at least five pounds smaller by the contest deadline, which is Dec. 31st. What will triumph....fiber or french fries?
Only time will tell. Stay tuned for the next Skinny Saturday update.
my biggest fiber obsession, sponsors a design contest every year, and this year's challenge features a beautiful new line of hand-dyed semi-solid yarns that just beg to be knit into something glorious. The contest requires at least six skeins of yarn, which is no small investment.
I'd like to say I know for sure which one it is. I'm not thrilled at the thought of giving up the drive-thru hamburgers and french fries, the chocolate and the cookies; I'm not ecstatic at resuming my clumsy and awkward attempts at an exercise regime. Eating wrong is effortless. This time around, I'm more aware of what is required for long-term weight loss. Life overhaul anyone?
Small starts. This week is the launch of my incredible ingeniously inspired Pounds of Yarn project. Fast food is keeping me fat. The illusion of convenience, the easy gratification....it's looking for love in all the wrong places. I needed to find something I loved more than Wendy's. Hello yarn.
For some reason, I have lately been struck by the inexplicable desire to Knit Something Big. Something exquisite, something indulgent, something voluptuous. Then, as if the stars themselves were aligned for me, I discovered Cherry Tree Hill's design contest, a challenge featuring their beautiful new line of semi-solid hand-dyed yarn. The rules called for substantial garments of at least six skeins, which fit my Big Knitting dream perfectly.
So over the next few weeks, the twenty bucks a week I've been blowing on artery-killing hamburgers will be going for yarn. I'm designing a full skirt that will satisfy my knitting muse and keep me out of the drive-through. My goal is to be at least five pounds smaller by the contest deadline, which is Dec. 31st. What will triumph....fiber or french fries?
Only time will tell. Stay tuned for the next Skinny Saturday update.
my biggest fiber obsession, sponsors a design contest every year, and this year's challenge features a beautiful new line of hand-dyed semi-solid yarns that just beg to be knit into something glorious. The contest requires at least six skeins of yarn, which is no small investment.
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