Watermelon Reduced to Tiers

My 60th birthday was last week. My husband and I were away for the day. A friend was working at our house while we were gone. When we got home, supper was ready and there was a watermelon birthday cake with candles. The whole thing was sweet. And I was touched.

I posted a picture of the birthday cake my friend made for me.

One candle per decade.

Another friend sent me a picture of another cake. She thought I might like to have it for next year.

Screenshot from Facebook post.

But instead of waiting for next year, I noted the tiers and moved some gears to experiment right away. This is how it turned out.

It reminds me of a wedding cake. The kind you do not have to bake. It’s gluten free, dairy free, and no sugar added. Another friend noted that it’s also soy free. And nut free. (Although it could be said I went a little nuts with the decorations.)

I worked on this project after supper tonight. No snacking. I don’t eat after supper. It’s a bright line in my sugar addiction management.

The bright line is a given with no decision making or will power involved. (For example: Because I don’t smoke, I don’t have to make a decision to not smoke. I just don’t smoke.) Some of my bright lines got a little muddled over the last couple of years.

But recently I feel like I have made a huge step back to bright lines. I’m revisiting the original guidelines I found in Potatoes not Prozac by K DesMaisons PhD. It’s what helped me lose close to a hundred pounds ten years ago when I greatly reduced my sugar intake and had a goal of feeling better.

I have proved, many times, that dieting doesn’t work for me. And I have proven it again. My weight has climbed and I haven’t been feeling great. So I have changed the dim and dead bulbs in my bright lines. I can see my way clearer and I like it.

I continue on my I’m Possible journey. I continue to learn to live with sugar addiction. Fine tuning and noticing what works best. Thankful again that I know, for me, life is sweeter without sugar and processed carbs.

Next month, I will be at a wedding with traditional cake and punch and all the rest of it. I know there will be good options that are safe for me to eat. I will have my bright lines. And I will be thankful.

Thanks for reading this. Please comment and let me know your thoughts. Best wishes.

Stand Up Apples and Mug Shots.

I was amused by the new dessert I made today. Stand Up Apples. They are quartered and baked apples that are standing up in a casserole dish. No joke. Just apples, cinnamon, and some heat. How do you like them apples? I suppose if no one likes them, they’ll be Stood Up Apples.

I haven’t been writing much. And it shows. In my face and hips and aches and pains. I still don’t eat added sugar, but eating between meals has added a level of discomfort.

It should be easy to just say no, but it feels like it isn’t easy. And then there are the times that I don’t seem to want to say no. Or, I want to say no, but there I am shoving food in my mouth. That feels like addiction.

I originally started writing to distract myself from eating between meals. If I could write, I would be all right. And sometimes that happened morning, noon, and night.

I think the eat in crEATive satisfied me more than food. Or, at least, it satisfied me, Maur-een.

And now, onto mug shots. Sometimes addiction problems lead to mug shots. As in arrest documentation. But these mug shots don’t  have anything to do with that.

The mug shots I have posted are of a mug I received in the mail today. It’s a mug I ordered from #mesawademudworks in Wyoming. The potter is my daughter. She throws pots when her kids aren’t resisting a rest.

Back to Stand Up. I wonder how many jokes have been made about a young mother who throws pots when her babies are napping.

When I tell people my daughter throws pots and fires them, I wonder if they’ll think she’s on an extreme cooking reality show. Not really. I’m just amused by the thought. 

But back to the mug. It’s a beautiful mug. It’s nice to hold. It’s nice to drink from. And it’s nice that it doesn’t seem to drip down the front while I am drinking.

Last time I checked, there weren’t any mugs for sale on her Etsy store. But I think there will be more. Soon.

You can go to her instagram site to see what she’s made and click on the link to her store. https://instagram.com/mesawade.mudworks?utm_medium=copy_link

Talking Turkey.

I found this piece in my drafts folder. It’s not quite shooting the breeze. But it’s what I have on the menu today. I’m roasting turkey with ease.

The ease is poetic license.

I have a frozen solid turkey breast and I am attempting to cold water thaw it enough to take the plastic gravy packet out of the cavity. I think I still have enough time to roast it for dinner this evening. The real reason for having this turkey is for me to make soup tomorrow.

In the meantime, here’s a poem I wrote a few years ago. To the beat of a drumstck.

Cooking a turkey from frozen:

I’ve done it a half dozen times

But never aspired,

Just wasn’t inspired,

To document how in rhymes.

It started with a single thought:

What should I fix for dinner?

I went for a dive in my freezer

And the turkey came up as a winner.

A frozen solid turkey

With hope for a meal and then soup

Simply no time to thaw and dine–

Cook it frozen! I’ve jumped through that hoop!

A quick Google search yields instructions

(I check with them first, every time)

Slip off the plastic,

no juices go spastic

It’s safer in some folks’ opine.

The turkey roasts at three twenty five

For two hours and just a bit more

The giblets come out and the bird goes back in

Be careful to, quick, shut the door.

The total time to cook frozen turkeys

Increases by fifty percent

Double check doneness with temperature probe

Wait for One Sixty-five–time well spent!

I published this piece and then realized the spaces had disappeared. Yes, the poem got spaced out.

Anyway, the turkey was tasty and I used my instant pot to make bone broth after supper. I made turkey soup the next day and it was delicious.

Waste (or waist) management.

Greetings! I’ve been writing on my WW Connect page more than I’ve been writing here. For whatever reason, I have waffled a bit about sharing my writing journey.

I’m going to go with the reasoning of adjustment. I haven’t fully found my way in retirement, covid, and road trips.

But I’ve found my weigh. It’s up some more. And I don’t feel very good. Or well. I know from experience, that it’s not so much about the number as it is how I am feeling.

I published my book, The I’m Possible Journey: Learning to Live with Sugar Addiction, because I wanted to remember where I had been and how I had gotten to a better place by managing my sugar addiction. A huge part of that management process was writing.

And so I am back here. I don’t want to waste that experience. And I want to feel better. Right now, it feels right to write. I can’t afford to consider it a waste of time. It’s part of my waist (and mind) management.

I continue to avoid sugar and artificial sweeteners. I do use fruit, but not dried fruit, for sweetness. When I feel like something is eroding my impulse controls and sending me into compulsive eating behaviors, I work to figure out what it is so I can eliminate it. It’s a waste of me if I don’t.

Dates, fresh or dried, are problematic. I’m not sure why nuts are in that category, but I have great trouble not eating all of them if I start–even if I don’t really enjoy the taste. I crunch the numbers and they add up fast. As in: I think it’s better to abstain if there aren’t established controls.

Nuts. That’s not where I was thinking this post was going.  I was really thinking about a quarter cup of cottage cheese that was left in the container after supper last night.

I have been making waffles for breakfast while we’ve been on a road trip with extended stops in Cheyenne and Lusk, Wyoming.

My go to waffle recipe on the road is a packet of plain instant oatmeal, an egg, half of a ripe banana or squeeze pouch of applesauce, and a half teaspoon of baking powder.  I either use my own waffle maker or the one in the hotel breakfast area.

But back to the ranch where I am right now. Yesterday I ran out of plain instant oatmeal packets. I knew there were recipes for cottage cheese pancakes, but they require some kind of flour. I also knew there was a recipe for flourless peanut butter cookies. I had a banana, some no sugar added skippy peanut butter, eggs, and baking powder. I didn’t waffle at all: I was going to experiment for my next breakfast.

After writing about abstaining from nuts, it might seem a bit nuts to use peanut butter. But I think peanuts are actually legumes. And, with the exception of Trader Joe’s all natural salted chunky peanut butter, I’m not likely to binge on it. The peanut butter isn’t flour, and it feels less dangerous to my sense of control.

I used a ripe banana, two eggs, 1/2 cup no sugar added Skippy peanut butter, 1/4 c cottage cheese, and 1 tsp baking powder. It made three waffles and I ate one.

It looked good. It smelled good. It tasted good. It was filling and satisfying.

Right now, I win. And if you enjoyed this post, you win, too!

Flaxoa.

I had to look up the spelling of quinoa for this post. I know it looks like it should sound like kwinoah. But it sounds like it should be spelled like keen-wah or, en français, quinois. Parlez-vous flaxois?

Flax Czech.

Actually, this is flax Italian. Flaxagna. Not a linen suit (flax on ya), but lasagna with flaxanzo noodles. Made from, yes, flax seeds and garbanzo beans.

And if you’re still with me, thanks for holding on.

Laws on Ya.

I thought I made lasagna a few weeks ago. I didn’t have lasagna noodles, but thought it would be okay to substitute layers of chickpea fusili that I had on hand (and in the cupboard). It had the layered effect, but my husband said it wasn’t lasagna. I think he was teasing. Sort of. He had no complaints regarding the taste, just the title of the recipe.

But sometimes people can’t tolerate regular lasagna noodles. When you’re celiac, the laws on ya are: no gluten. I’m not celiac, but I’m sensitive to processed grains (too close to sugar for this addict).

So this time when I wanted to make lasagna, I decided to try making the noodles. It was an idea I had leftover from making seed crackers but instead of seeds, I used canned chickpeas, flax meal, and a little water. “Water you doing?” you might want to ask, but I thought these three things were up for my task. I was using my noodle as far as I thought. Instead of finding out where they’d be bought.

The pictures at the bottom of this post are what I captured in my phone when I remembered to document what I was doing. As I was working on making my recipe (literally and figuratively), a friend called to see if I’d like to do yoga with her. We agreed to do it at my house and she agreed to test the lasagna for lunch! It was a win win plan for both of us. Especially since she enjoyed the lasagna. She said it wasn’t exactly like traditional lasagna, but it was a good substitute! That works for me. (It might have been more like regular lasagna had I used Italian sausage instead of chorizo.)

The true test will be at dinner this evening.  Lasagna, whether or not the laws on ya.

This recipe isn’t in my trial cookbook. Yet. But I think it will be once I tweak it a bit more (e’en).  If you’re interested in looking at my trial cookbook, leave me a message and I’ll get you a link to my Shutterfly site. The super special deal for purchasing a photobook with free extra pages and 40% off expires October 18, 2017. That’s today.

Ready for first noodle bake.

Ready to layer.

Ready to bake

Apostrophe. A Pause Trophy. Another look.

I was thinking about impossible to I’m possible. The difference is an apostrophe and a bit of space. Because I play with word sounds and meanings, I find a bit of help in thinking of an apostrophe as A Pause, Trophy. As in: just wait a bit and think it over. Get some space. It can lead to a victory. Instead of impossible, I’m Possible.

I once wrote a poem about the pause, or hesitation:

She who hesitates has gained a tiny bit of wait. Just enough time to think again–a helpful weight loss trait! I gain so much when I count the cost of a mouthful or morsel or bite. And lose the thought of “eat right now” that makes the clothes grow tight! There’s full scale value in counting the cost. For she who hesitates enough will find that she has lost!

This time, when I was looking at the apostrophe, I was thinking of what it stands for. It’s actually taking the place of the “A” in I am! And then I paused to consider A:

The A team, the A game, the Alpha, first things first. It’s what really makes me possible on the best of days or worst.  A is for acknowledging the one I ask for help and A is in accepting the answer to my yelp. I liked this thought about the A. It also goes with my plan of awareness, acceptance, and adapting. To realize: Actually, I can!

I’ve been under a bit of stress lately. Along with thoughts of A, I find it helpful to take Omega 3 supplements. They seem to calm anxiety in me without taking away my feelings. I’m not a doctor, or a nurse. I’m an amateur wordsmith who works in verse. I’m thankful for help along the way to I put first things first each and every day.

Last week, I got another notice from Shutterfly.com. They were offering free extra pages in photo books again! I took the opportunity to edit my prototype cookbook. (I used to work as a secretary, so I guess I could consider myself a professional typist!) I changed the size of my sample book to 8×8 inches for a less expensive version. I also took out recipes that could be dangerous to people having trouble with certain foods (rhubarb custard pie, Irish soda bread, Wachtalies, to name a few). I left the biscotti and spice cookie recipes in because I’ve come up with gluten free, dairy free, and no sugar added versions of them that are actually edible.

The deadline for the special was midnight on Sunday but I wasn’t sure what time zone it was in. I finished up and ordered my copies at midnight, Mountain Daylight Time, which was actually 2 a.m. my time. When I woke up enough to check on Monday, I discovered the deadline had been extended to October 18th.

Instead of being irritated, I’m feeling glad for the work I got done. The book is still in the early stages, but if anyone is interested in purchasing a sample copy during the special Shutterfly sale, leave me a comment with a way to get in touch with you. I’ll send you a link to my Shutterfly site.

I do not benefit from the sale of this sample book unless I get feedback about it. Constructive criticism or outright compliments are welcome! I’ll be happy to give credit in the final version! I’m going to be drafting a cookbook proposal soon. I’m looking for the right ring and a bit of encouragement! (By the way, there are no recipes for can’telope in my book.)

Chicken Dinner Jerky.

I’m trying my hand at a cookbook.

It occurred to me that I could share a recipe here and find out if there’s interest in more (e’en cooking).

This recipe came about when I wanted to have a new emergency food supply stash option (no sugar added, no refrigeration needed, loaded with protein, easy to pack in a purse or a pocket).  I found the general idea in The Dehydrator Bible and changed it up to suit me. This has the taste of a chicken dinner complete with stuffing.

In food processor, puree 2 pounds boneless skinless chicken (all fat trimmed) with 1/2 c. onion, 1 teaspoon rosemary, 1/2 teaspoon dried sage, 1 clove peeled garlic, 1/2 tablespoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon black pepper, 1 cup seedless grapes, 1 cup diced dried apples. Put mixture in gallon sized ziplock freezer bag. Snip one corner (about 1/2 inch) and extrude meat mix in lines onto parchment lined baking sheet. Flatten lines to 1/4 inch. Bake at 400F for 20 minutes or until done. Remove from oven. Press each strip with paper towels to squeeze out fat. Return meat strips to cooling rack lined baking sheet and bake at 170F for 2 hours or until dry. Let cool. Store in airtight container. I think this would be good with 1/2 half cup dried cranberries instead of the grapes. (I didn’t have any that weren’t sweetened with sugar.)

Snip corner of ziplock bag and extrude meat mixture to pan.

Ready for the second baking.

Chicken jerky. I think it looks like drumsticks.

What do you think?

Blood, Sweat, and Tears.

The title sounds a little dramatic. What s’more, it might be marshmallow dramatic. But it’s what came to my mind and I’ll stick with it for now. (If at this point you think I’ve totally gone crackers, click this link: s’mores.)

I read an article somewhere lately. I’m not sure where the article was or even where I was at the time, but the gist of it was that people with type O positive blood seem to attract female mosquitoes when they’re searching for a victim. The insult to injury is the mosquito needs the blood to help her produce eggs (which basically means more mosquito bites for me).  I ran out of time at that point and my response was, “Oh, mos quit.” Or, mos quit o.  Or not. I have O+ blood. I get mosquito bites when other people think there are no mosquitoes around. Those people notice when I leave the area, though, because the female mosquitoes are paying attention to their biological clock as it ticks and they are less picky about blood type when I’m not around.

The type O blood is a bigger problem than that, though. I have been trying to assist some folks with ordering invitations and printed napkins. Type O is coming through there, too.  The invitation typo was easily set straight. The font was easy to copy and the missing letter was an I at the end of a word. For no extra charge (other than a little sweat and almost tears), I was able to add the missing “i” so they wouldn’t look like minion or pirate invitations. And the hosts’ last name was spelled correctly.

The second typo might not be as easy to clean up, even though they are napkins. An errant comma gives pause where it doesn’t belong. After 60 years, they who hesitate too much might not get there. Or they might like a little nap on the way. But it looks a little strange and I may end up ordering more (e’en). It’s not worth it to distract people who know about commas from the main event.

I will cut this post a bit short because I’m on my way out the door to help someone else with some projects in her yard. The forecast is calling for sweat. But as long as I don’t focus on the last three letters between meals, I should be okay.

The tears go along with a decoupage project I’m struggling with. The last decoupage project I did was probably forty-eight years ago (give or take a few minutia). I haven’t cried over this project (yet), but I have torn the paper enough to have to rethink how I’m going to achieve success. I may have to rename the project and try a different technique. I have a habit of doing crafts the same way I cook. (If you’ve read my book, you might remember the Tarragon Chicken recipe I was using turned into Marjoram Pork when I discovered I didn’t have the key ingredients as I was attempting to prepare the meal.)

I’ll leave the rest of the story for when I finish it.  I’m sorry for any typos that may be in this post.