February 4, 2011
I ran a practice play on this feast for the semi-finals and it scored a game saving munchdown!
Football’s grand and all, but there are only two things that can take the edge off spending up to four straight hours watching men crouching, running, jumping, crouching, running… sweet sweet spandex, and a fabulous plate full of flavours!
– 1 large bag tortilla chips (I used Tostitos restaurant style)
– ½ red onion
– 1 green pepper
– 1 red pepper
– 3 jalapeños (you can go as hot as you want here)
– 4 green onions
– ½ rotisserie chicken shredded
(or send in a sub. with the equivalent amount of ground beef)
– 1 package taco seasoning (those magical little envelopes of flavour)
– grated mound of your fave cheese
***Strip that chicken down, grab a sauce pan and prepare meat according to taco package instructions. Chop all veggies and set aside (keeping green onion for garnish). Grate cheese. Layer chips, veggies, meat, and cheese in a large casserole dish. Cook in a preheated 400 degree oven for 10 minutes or until cheese is bubbling. Serve with sour cream and your fave salsa. Munchdown!
Pico de Gallo
(I was aiming to recreate the flavours in Wendy’s Baja Salad Pico de Gallo)
– ½ red onion
– 2 small tomatoes
– ¼ cup chopped parsley
– 1 lime (lemon juice will work)
– salt to taste
***Chop onion and tomatoes, add parsley, a good squeeze of lime juice, and salt.
– 2 fork mashed avocados
– ½ white onion
– 1 small tomato
– 1 lime
– salt to taste
***Add finely chopped onion and tomato to avocado, squeeze in lime juice and a sprinkle of salt. Post game confession time: While the nachos and pico de gallo are Saving Cymbria originals, I used this excellent recipe to get the guac started (but left out the garlic due to a certain personal trauma).
February 2, 2011
I was rooting through my stalk of picks (and apparently puns), looking for the photo I’d taken to accent a vaguely philosophical post about a shower curtain (don’t ask), when I came face to cob with ultimate summer bliss. Suddenly, I was aching for spring… aching. Groundhog Day may not be the most noble of holidays, but is it so wrong to want a little bit of hope? Even if it’s from a rodent? Even if said rodent lives in a place called Gobbler’s Knob? Who needs dignity when the today’s prediction tasted so darn gooood.
January 24, 2011
I came home to find that I had won our latest Mexican Standoff. The dishes were done (sweet joy!), but there was a small debris pile on the counter by the stove.
“Dude!” I called to hubby from the kitchen (after thanking the man for backing down first – of course). “You can’t have broken two cups doing the dishes once. That’s a statistical impossibility!”
“Not when you drop one cup on the other one. Oh, and we need new dish gloves too – one of the fingers ripped open.”
Sound logic, sure, but the man had no explanation for his forth casualty; discovered the next day, when I was only three inches away from slicing my lip open on its splintered glass rim.
Well, I suppose I now know why it’s always the bull in the china shop, and never the steer – statistically speaking…
January 20, 2011
It’s 7:54AM and the bus is packed. I’m squished in by the back doors, trying not to make eye and/or backpack contact with any of my fellow sufferers. The plump, mousy haired, maternal archetype in the seat in front of me is engrossed in a thick novel. I’ve always been jealous of those lucky people whose stomachs let them read on transit. I sneak a peak, anything to keep from thinking about how late we all are. Etiquette aside, what’s the harm in sharing a sentence?
“She sits down and offers Mandy a breast.”
Wowsers! (a term I never use lightly) This woman, lost in her own private world of forbidden lusts – and so early in the morning too! – blows apart my first impression. I look around… so many books, so many secrets. Who are you when you think nobody’s looking? I can’t resist a second sentence…
“The baby latches on…”
January 13, 2011
What’s your New Year’s resolution? Whether you’re determined to shed that extra turkey weight or change careers, the end goal is always the same… to increase your happiness. One current scientific theory, substantiated by reams of research, is that we are all born with a genetic happiness ‘set point’. But just because you were a gnarly teen, or mopey twentysomething, it doesn’t mean you’re condemned to live out the rest of your life in emo purgatory. According to Ronald D. Siegel, Psy.D., assistant clinical professor of psychology at Harvard Medical School, there are five key lifestyle tweaks we all can make to maximize our happiness:
1. Practice using our strengths, particularly our virtues (ie: curiousity, compassion)
2. Practice internal and external gratitude for what we have, and towards the people who show us love and generousity
3. Savour the moment by practicing mindfulness (seriously, have you ever truly experienced an orange? Its intricacies of form and flavour will blow your mind)
4. Engage in the process (ie: feeling ‘in the zone’ while writing, or heck, even knitting)
5. Live meaningfully by serving others rather than our own egos (my own ego is pouting in a corner over this one, but no amount of whining can refute the piles of evidence supporting #5)
So go forth and be happy! Not buying it? Ok, ok, so go forth and be happier! I just can’t believe that Harvard hasn’t caught on to #6. But whatever path or key you choose, don’t forget that the rollercoaster is what drives the magic. So go forth and click out of this embarrassingly Oprah-atic post and get back to surfing this grand ol’ distraction from mortality we call the web. I suggest Youtube, because you never know when you’ll click your way into a wee spot of wisdom.
December 9, 2010
What do you call it when a Martha Stewart brand string of Christmas lights catches on fire?
-A Controlled Burn
What do you call it when Mrs. Claus does the Rumba?
I’d like to thank my favorite Canadian poet for these two gems!
December 3, 2010
In my mad rush this morning, I completely forgot to reset the alarm for dear hubby. I changed the time for him, even put the clock up on the mattress so he would hear it when it went off, but never flicked the switch to ‘on’. Thankfully, while I was bustling about, he regained just enough consciousness to catch the slip. But there was something else I forgot to do…
I raced out into the hallway to grab my winter jacket, complaining, “Man, it’s cold this morning,” to the still cozy, still comatose thing in the bedroom. It was cold… too cold. As I reached for my jacket, I looked down… I’d remembered my socks – impressive any day of the week – but had totally forgotten to put on pants!