Numbered Days

Apparently that wasn’t the last snowfall of the season. I wasn’t really holding my breath. It’s only March and the Boy’s State High School Basketball Tournament hasn’t even happened yet. There’s always a snowstorm during tournament time. All true Minnesotan’s know this. Which reminds me, I’m supposed to be on the lookout for a snow shovel for my dad. He seems to be without one, and having been in Arizona for most of the winter to this point, he hadn’t really had a need for one until he and Mom returned home. I wonder if I can still buy a snow shovel this time of year. I mean, it’s March and so the stores probably have their Fourth of July merchandise out by now, right? Shovels may be hard to come by before July when the winter gear hits the store shelves again.

It snowed again today. It looked like it was going to be significant judging by the view out our office windows. It was falling down sideways and the flakes were big. But it stopped before long and there was little to no accumulation. This is good. Any measurable snowfall at this point will be met with serious disapproval on my part. I’m sure Mother Nature is shaking in her boots.

So while I wait out the remainder of winter, I’m taking note of anything that says spring is around the corner.

This falling snowman is a pretty good sign. Really, I’m not sure if he was pushed over, if yesterday’s winds blew him over, or if the air actually got warm enough for him to start leaning. Kacey built him last Friday on her first day of spring break. She was supposed to go with Connor to visit friends in Eau Claire whose spring break isn’t until next week. When Connor came down with the flu, the weekend trip was cancelled and Kacey was left to her own devices. The snowman was born of boredom but provided at least temporary entertainment when Lucy, the big furry chicken, proved to be slightly leery of him. Over the weekend, Kacey’s friend Alex tried to convince her that if they doused the snowman in lighter fluid and lit him on fire, that he would burn.

Alex was wrong and everyone was disappointed. I just hope they didn’t use so much lighter fluid that it kills whatever grass might have been wanting to return this spring. This is the kind of activity we refrain from sharing with Mark as he would frown upon it. Actually, had I been consulted, I would have frowned upon it as well and forbidden it. Unfortunately, my permission was not requested.

While the spring breakers are enjoying their time off from school, hanging out at the mall, having parties, going bowling and staying up late, I’m going to bed early and getting up when the alarm clock goes off. Instead of snoozing for that extra hour, I’m going to the gym again. And I feel better. The winter funk is fading. Spring is coming. I can feel it!

 

Happy Last Snowfall of the Season!

It was the last one, wasn’t it? Please tell me it was! I’ve had enough.

The snow began to fall yesterday and continued through the night and most of today, leaving a reported ten inches of accumulation. I guess the school kids were happy. Classes were cancelled. Me? I left for work an hour early, trying in vain to find the lines that divided the three lanes of the freeway. My windshield wipers couldn’t keep up with the falling snow and a layer of ice formed on them so that they were no longer very effective. I strained to see through the blurry windshield and rolled down the window, attempting to catch the wiper on its upswing and snap the ice from it.

I arrived at a quiet office. Several wise coworkers had opted to work from home. If I didn’t think my winter funk would talk me into napping in front of the television, I might have done the same. I have lost all motivation during these last couple of months. I always feel on the edge of, if not smack in the middle of some cold virus. I can’t seem to sleep enough.

I need sunshine. I need warmth. I need to see color in the landscape again. I think I also need to eat better, get up early again and get some exercise… just as soon as the stuffiness in my head clears and my nose stops running, I promise.

I know spring is just around the corner. I know it because the Boxelder bugs have begun to appear in our lower level family room. We learned a couple of years ago that they have a habit of hibernating inside the walls of homes when the weather grows cold. As they begin to wake up near the end of winter, they gravitate to the warmth. My family room is warm and the Boxelder bugs aren’t really welcome here, but I’ll take their presence as a good sign.

There are other signs of spring in the neighborhood as well. Jennifer down the street has begun to take Rascal, her Beagle out for early evening walks again. The sounds of bird songs can be heard through the windows on a quiet Saturday morning. At six o’clock in the evening, after work, there is still daylight. And perhaps the most promising sign of all…

… Neighbor Bob has resumed his ritual of drinking beer in the garage while waving at cars and people as they come and go past his house.

Spring is definitely in the air. Someone please wake me when it arrives.

Life is Good – 2/2/2013

It’s that time of year that I knew would inevitably come, when winter feels as if it’s been here long enough already and there’s no end in sight. This kind of winter is what I know, gray days and bone chilling cold at times. It’s not the season itself that really bothers me so much. It’s what I let it do to me. When I can’t seem to stay warm, I slow down. I stay inside, doing still and quiet things, like reading books or watching movies. My motivation  to get these muscles moving fades away. I can’t seem to get enough sleep.

These aren’t bad things, when I allow them in moderation. And lucky for me, I always seem to recognize when enough is enough. And this has been that week.

I’ve been guiltily joking about falling off the exercise bandwagon lately. Sure, there were contributing factors in the past couple of months – varying illnesses and a back strain that left a weeks-long ache in my hamstring muscle. But those things have long subsided. I said I couldn’t run outside. It was either too cold, too icy or too snowy. And as for the treadmill in the nice warm gym, it was getting boring. And the gym was packed with new bodies anyway. I felt crowded by all of those enthusiastic exercisers hell-bent on honoring their new year’s resolutions. And each day that’s gone by without any attempt by me to keep my body strong has gradually added to my pile of guilt. The guilt became too much this week, but I knew I needed something new, something to make me enthusiastic again.

I’m exploring the world of yoga! Thank you, Cable T.V. for your on-demand fitness programs that are tailored for everyone from beginner to advanced. I am once again starting the day in a healthy way. And don’t worry. I’m not giving up running – just taking a little break.

The good mojo seems to have worked its way into my work life this week too. I’ve found myself steadily busy and productive, just the way I like it. There’s been no word from the CEO about the headline contest, but he did send me another assignment yesterday. Seems he wanted a press release for a new product that’s up and coming. He gathered all of his thoughts and ideas on the subject and spewed them into an email which he then sent to me. He asked me to give it a good work over and “tighten it up” and I found myself with company approved time to just sit and write.

Things are all good with the family. Our winter laziness has at least inspired Mark and me to do a good amount of home cooking, which feeds right into my ongoing goal to eat better.

Brad received his college diploma this week and sent me a text message to let me know. “Turns out I graduated after all,” he said. The day of graduation, he was joking that he might be cutting it close and wouldn’t know for sure until days or weeks after the graduation ceremony. I never doubted it though, and I told him so.

Kacey texted me several times this week from school. Once was to let me know that two of her friends had mentioned they were craving some soup that I’ve made on several occasions. It’s nice to know that my cooking skills are adequate enough to generate requests for a repeat performance.

Kacey also texted me to let me know she and her friends have signed up to do the Polar Bear Plunge – a fundraiser to support Special Olympics Minnesota athletes. Kacey and her team will be gathering pledges and in order to collect on them, they’ll be taking a plunge into Lake Calhoun on March 2nd – which means they’ll be taking a plunge into a hole cut into the ice and dipping into the frigid water! I think they are brave, and I am proud!

And I actually saw Jake this week and spent time with him for about an hour, while he was wide awake and in good spirits. He’s been working a lot, so time with him is often hard to come by.

And this morning, after a long, dreary, cold week… it is still cold, one degree outside as I write this. It was snowing as I left work yesterday afternoon, big, fluffy, lazy drifting flakes. The snow continued into the evening and left the landscape clean and fresh. It’s the weekend and the sun is shining.

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Temperatures are predicted to rise up into the teens today. It’s better than single digits. I’ll take it. Life is good!

Single Digits

The mild temperatures of the past couple of days have faded away. As the sun went down on Saturday, a fierce wind announced itself. It rattled the windows and made the dogs nervous. A deeper kind of cold settled in, the kind that makes it hard for me to keep my finger tips and toes warm, even while staying inside. I put on extra layers and wore slippers over my socks.

Sunday morning arrived and I could feel the change in the weather outside. I gazed out the patio door and could almost see the air snapping with the intensity of the cold. The dogs stayed out in the yard only as long as necessary and I didn’t dare move far from the door. If I wasn’t ready and waiting to let them back in they howled in protest at my inattention.

Kacey is happy for her brand new, made-for-arctic-cold jacket. And all of the kids are happy that Santa thought to bring them hats to keep their ears and faces warm when the real winter rolled around.

Lucy wants a closer look at Jake’s new hat

Kacey and Connor sporting their new hats

Monday’s high promises to be sub-zero. We’ve added yet another layer of blankets to the bed. I know I won’t want to come out from under the blankets when the alarm goes off in the morning, but I will. It’s just another Minnesota winter and days like these come with the territory.

Someone please wake me when spring arrives

The days feel so short this time of year. It’s cold outside and the sun’s appearances are rare. All I seem to want to do is sleep. At the end of the day, I can’t wait to change into my fleece pants and a warm sweatshirt, then retire for the night under the usual bedding of  two blankets and a quilt,with an extra layer created by my fleece tie-blanket spread on top of it all. Add in a couple of dogs curled up next to me and I’m happy. It feels like my own personal cocoon and I love it.

I’m not entirely sure how much Mark loves it, though.

Come morning, the sound of the alarm clock is a most unwelcome intrusion, even for a morning person, such as me. I slept much later than usual this morning. I went to the gym last night, so I gave myself an extra hour on the alarm clock. And when the alarm sounded this morning, it was just so warm and cozy in my bed that I kept delaying the inevitable. I hit the snooze button and burrowed deeper under the covers.

“My feet are cold. And so is my belly!”

Eventually, I knew I could no longer avoid greeting the day. The dogs always follow me right out of bed and I lead them to the back door to let them out. They’re not big fans of the cold first thing the morning either, especially when it’s still so dark outside. But I encourage them to go do their business so they can come back into the warmth. Bella is sneaky. Or lazy. Or both. She meanders around the deck, sniffing and acting all non-nonchalant. She’s trying to avoid going down the steps into the snowy yard where I’m sure it feels even colder on her little feet.

I look at her with a stern warning on my face.

“Bella,” I say through the crack in the door. She looks at me like, “Huh? What? I’m not doin’ nothin’!”

I point to the deck steps and say, “Go potty… Down THERE!”

She hangs her head and looks at me sadly before her short legs carry her down the steps. If I’m not careful, she’ll sneak in a pee on the deck.

I drove to work in the dark, with wet, dirty snow spitting onto my windshield, the only scenery a sea of tail lights ahead of me. It can be hard to find motivation and energy in the midst of these gray, cold, dreary days. The dogs know it and so do I. Sometimes you have to look really hard to find sunshine and light. But it’s out there. I found it as I was leaving work.

The pond behind the office

I was happy to see some rays of sunshine, if only for an hour today.

Jackets

Since yesterday afternoon, it’s been alternately raining, misty, foggy and raining again. So obviously, it’s been warm enough for rain. Feels really strange to have rain in Minnesota in January. But this strange-weather roller coaster seems to be the new wave, so we accept it. Besides, we got enough snow back in December to last for a while. There’s still a good layer of it on the ground and it’s weathering its second steady rain with no sign of retreating.

Still it is January in Minnesota, which means the cold isn’t ever far away and it is scheduled to return this weekend, in full force. And Kacey has been letting me know that she’s in need of a new winter jacket. And since she’s heading back to school this weekend, to the city that is the self-proclaimed epicenter of the flu epidemic in Minnesota, I feel inclined to do all I can to keep her warm and healthy.

I suppose it is time. The last jacket we bought for her was her high school letter jacket. Letter jackets tend to have a shelf life that ends on high school graduation day. So Kacey has reverted to her previous winter jacket which we bought when she was a high school freshman. Since she’s now a college sophomore, it’s probably time for a new one.

We went shopping last night and were quickly frustrated. The department stores don’t have much left in the line of winter outerwear. The local sports and apparel stores still have a decent selection, but the prices haven’t dropped. And I guess I was a bit shocked by the cost of jackets.

I guess the last time I bought a winter jacket for one of the kids, they were probably still growing. Which means there were pricing limits in place. I’ve only ever been willing to spend just so much money on something that might only be worn for one season. I guess I haven’t shaken that mindset just yet. And it must have rubbed off because even Kacey was put off by the prices, not even bothering to ask if I’d consider some of her choices. She came home jacketless.

As I was touching base with Mark today on the phone, I was explaining my frustrations over the jacket situation and quoting the prices we’d seen on some of the jackets that had appealed to Kacey.

“So just get one,” he said! “I don’t want her walking around campus without a decent jacket. Just spend what you need to spend.”

I think that’s all I needed to hear to realize, he was right. She’s done growing. She needs a decent jacket and she’ll be able to wear it for more than a season or two.

And besides, since she’s been on break from school, she’s been so helpful to me, with holiday preparations, and things around the house, and then putting all the Christmas decorations away while I was sick. So I guess she deserves something nice, like a new jacket. We went out tonight and picked out a good one. I earned a good chunk of points on my store rewards card!

And when we got home and Kacey was happy as a clam, she told me that she and her room-mate had been talking about jackets recently. “Andrea and I totally agreed that if it were acceptable to wear your high school letter jacket in college… we totally would.”

Well. Good to know she appreciates her stuff anyway.

The Aftermath of a Snowstorm

What beautiful scenery is created by a big snowstorm! The world is blanketed in white and there’s magic in the air. It is such a contented feeling to sit curled up in a chair with nothing but an entire weekend ahead, wrapped in a cozy blanket, just basking in the glow of the twinkle lights on the Christmas tree while fluffy, white, frozen flakes float to the ground.

I love a big snowstorm.

Except when it comes time to leave the house.

Monday arrived in the wake of our first major snowfall and I knew I had to get to work. Not going into the office after a big snow is considered a sign of weakness. We Minnesotans pride ourselves on our ability to function in extreme weather. I woke up extra early and took a look outside at the driveway that had been snow-blown and shoveled several times the day before. More snow had fallen and blown over in the night and the driveway was covered yet again. The plows had come by overnight and left a crusty, knee-hi snowdrift across the entire width of the driveway. There was no way my eight year-old Impala was going to make it out the driveway, much less all the way downtown.

Luckily, I had my knight in Chevy armor who laughs in the face of snow encrusted streets. Mark came home in the morning after working the night shift, barreled through the wall of snow that enclosed the driveway and honked for me to hop in. He welcomed the chance to throw his pick-up truck in four-wheel drive and chauffeur me to work. I got to sit back and just be the passenger instead of stressing over traffic gridlock and the fear of spinning out or crashing. Almost as an afterthought, I grabbed my camera to document the aftermath of a good snowstorm.

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And I made it to work safe and sound and almost on-time. That’s okay though. Tardiness is acceptable as long as it is the result of braving the weather.

My Dog is an Ombrophobiac

It was raining cats and dogs when the alarm clock went off this morning. I hit the snooze button and burrowed down under the covers, then lay there waiting for the intensity of the rain to subside. But it didn’t. And this was a problem because I was going to have to go out in it. Since Lucy’s hip surgery, one of us has to accompany her outside. For at least another month, we have to carry her up and down steps and watch her outside so she doesn’t run or jump.

The rain was pouring from the sky. It was still very dark outside and there was thunder. And Mark was away on a hunting trip so I couldn’t pawn off the dog duty on him. There was no getting around it. The dogs had to go pee. I was going out in the rain.

The weather had turned colder since the day before. I tossed on my rain jacket and slipped a pair of flip-flops on my feet. Lucy and Bella trotted behind me happily as I approached the patio door. And when I opened it to let them out onto the back deck, Lucy zipped right outside. And then she zipped right back inside. I figured I needed to show the dogs it was okay to get a little wet. I put my hood up and stood outside on the deck. Like an idiot.

“Come on, Luce. Bells, come on,” I said, patting my thighs with both hands. “Come on girls!”

The “girls” looked at me like I was crazy and stayed inside where it was warm and dry.

I had a schedule to maintain. I only had so much time to supervise the dogs in the yard before I needed to get back in, find some work clothes and hit the shower. I had to take matters into my own hands. I would trick them into coming outside. I went and found Lucy’s leash, which is a sure-fire way to get her to come. And then I carried her down the steps to the front entryway and hooked the leash to her collar.

“Leash” means walk, and apparently the idea of a walk was enough to erase the memory of the rain from their little doggy brains. Out the front door we went and all was well until we left the shelter of the front stoop. Bella seemed willing enough to go wherever I was going, but Lucy was desperately trying to escape the pouring rain. But I now had the leash on her and we were going to the back yard, like it or not.

And Lucy was not liking it. Bella happily wandered the perimeter of the yard, the huge raindrops soaking her long fur. Lucy the Pansy tried to yank the leash from my hand and seek shelter under Mark’s fishing boat and trailer, which for some reason were recently pulled out into the middle of the back yard and left there. Lucy heaved to and fro, trying to dodge the rain and escape the thunder while I held tight to the leash and through clenched teeth, admonished her to “go potty!”

My brave little old lady

It was so dark that I could no longer see where Bella was exploring, but I knew the minute I called her she would come follow me back to the house. Lucy continued to strain and yank and try to extract my arm from its socket. But I am stubborn too and there was no way I was heading off to work knowing she hadn’t started her day by relieving herself.

Wussy little pansy girl

I was getting ticked off. There I was, standing in the middle of the back yard, in the pitch-black morning, in my flannel pajama pants, in the cold and wearing a rain jacket that was not doing its job.

“LUCY,” I growled. “Frickin-frackin-furrin-furrin-go-potty-already-will-you-damn-it!”

Finally, finally she squatted and did her thing! I was now completely drenched and none too happy to be starting my day this way. Since we had come around to the back yard from the front door, we had to go back that way because for some reason, I had locked the patio door upon deciding to trick the dogs into going out in the rain through the front door.

I called Bella and soon her dark little form could be seen bounding across the dark, drenched grass. Lucy had now caught onto the fact that we would finally go back in where it was safe and dry and warm, and so she cooperated as well.

Just as I was shutting the backyard gate behind me, a powerful strike of lightning lit up the sky and a huge boom of thunder rippled down over us. Lucy began frantically trying to seek shelter again. She wanted to free herself from the restraint of the leash and she desperately tried to bury herself inside a shrub. We were just a few feet from the front door and I begged her to come with me. Thankfully, she caught a glimpse of Bella happily following the trail of landscaping border around the front gardens toward the house and decided to follow suit.

My hot, morning shower never felt SO good.

There were two cute, furry faces there to greet me when I emerged from the shower. They know it’s feeding time after my shower and they were so cute, I couldn’t help but forgive Lucy for her earlier escapades. The rain and thunder and lightning carried on outside while the dogs gobbled down their breakfasts. When they were finished, I headed off to blow-dry my hair, but not before I heard the familiar clang of the bell that hangs on the patio door – the one that Lucy uses to let us know she wants to go outside.

I peeked over to her where she sat at the door.

“You’re kidding me, right,” I asked?

She turned and hit the bell again with her snout and looked at me expectantly. For one insane moment, I contemplated whether I believed her or not. In the end, I decided I didn’t care. As I walked away, I could still hear her clanging that bell.

*Ombrophobia – fear of rain or being rained on

Picture-Perfect October Weekend

It’s been a beautiful weekend; the kind of weekend that reminds me why fall is my favorite season. The sun came out, the air was warm and there’s still plenty of color in the trees.

Under the Maple tree out front

October clouds

Halloween is in the air. A handful of Halloween decorations have appeared around our house.

One of the witch hat luminaries that light the way up the front walk

On the front step, there’s a large, plastic, light-up jack-o-lantern. Jack has seen better days. His left eye has a slight puncture. But he stands proudly on the front step every year. He’s the same one Kacey picked out when she was three years old and out on an errand with Mark to the local do-it-yourself store. Jack was as tall as Kacey back then and when she pointed him out and told her daddy she wanted him, Mark’s inner softy made a rare appearance and they took him home. As long as Jack continues to light up, he’ll grace our front steps on Halloween.

Mark and I made a trip to Target today for some necessities and while we were there, we strolled through the Halloween section. Mark pointed out a pair of sound-activated googly eyes that made scary noises. I picked them up to try them out and soon noticed a little boy of about three years looking up at me. I held the box down at his level and asked, “Did you want to see these?”

He looked up at me and nodded as his mom watched, smiling from a few feet away. I showed him where to press the button to make the eyes light up and make noise but he made no move to take the box from me. He was content to let me hold it while he pressed the button.

Mark asked the little boy, “Are those scary?”

The little boy shrugged. Mark asked him, “Are you going to go trick-or-treating?”

The little boy ran over to his daddy who was standing nearby with a shopping cart. He reached into the cart and whipped out a pirate costume, holding it up for Mark.

“Is that your costume,” Mark asked?

“A pirate,” the little boy proudly announced! He then held up his Halloween themed sippy cup for Mark to see and said, “Look what I got!”

His parents and we were laughing by now at how quickly their son had befriended us. Mark explained, “Our kids are all grown up now. No more trick-or-treating for us.”

The mom said something about looking forward to that day. Mark told her, “You say that now, but you’ll miss it all too soon.”

We said goodbye and went on our way.

Back at home later on, I picked up a recipe card I’d set aside earlier this week - Secret Recipe Chocolate Chip Cookies. I’m not sure what it is about fall that makes me feel like Susie Homemaker, but I like it. Last weekend there was all that cooking. This weekend, it was baking. Yesterday morning I took one look at the overripe bananas and soon banana bread was in the works. Earlier this morning, I made a batch of granola. Then came the cookies.

Yum!

Wait… Let me give you a little perspective on just how big these cookies are. The recipe called for three cups of chocolate chips and said to use an ice cream scoop to scoop them. I could only fit six on a cookie sheet as opposed to the usual twelve. I’m not sure who I was thinking was going to eat all these, but I sure don’t want more than one … maybe two. Okay, maybe three.

Cookies, anyone?

I just heard the weather man say something like, “… more active weather patterns this week,” and “… possibly snow.” I’m glad I took notice of this weekend and enjoyed it.

Messin’ Up the Kitchen

You know what I’m really bad at? Keeping a regular schedule. Life would probably be so much easier if I just scheduled regular times in the week to do household chores, plan a menu and go to the grocery store, or check in with my parents. I don’t check in on my parents often enough. And how hard could this possibly be? They live on the next block! But I think there’s some flaw in my genetic makeup that contributes to my habit of flying by the seat of my pants. I can’t tell you how many times there will be a thought in the back of my mind to get something taken care of , but I simply choose to ignore it because … I don’t know … because I’m either mentally or physically exhausted or maybe because I’m just that lazy. The flip side of this problem, though, is that I work well under pressure. I get things done best when there’s a sense of urgency.

I have the best of intentions to change my ways. It just hasn’t happened yet. There’s always that sense of guilt that accompanies the knowledge that I’ve sort of dropped the ball again. And I always vow to do better from that point forward. There just don’t seem to be enough hours in the day to accomplish all the things that I wish I could.

And so what happened on Friday is so very typical for me.  I was at work when I received a text message from my sister saying that we should probably talk soon, and seriously about our parents. My mom’s ongoing health problems are simply not going to get better. She has bad days and not so bad days, but she never has really good days anymore. Getting a full breath of air is a thing of the past for her. And as a result, she is often dizzy, sick, and utterly fatigued. Running errands, keeping house and cooking can seem like such daunting tasks for her.

My sis and I made a quick agreement to get over to our parents’ house this weekend to help take some of the weight off Mom’s shoulders. I had a quiet weekend ahead anyway, what with the kids back to school again and Lucy Pie healing from her hip surgery. Normally Friday nights are my lazy nights. I usually read or watch a movie and then do chores over the weekend. But since I had just agreed to squeeze in extra activities, I tackled as much housework as I could so as to free up some hours on Saturday.

I was up early on Saturday morning with the Girly Pies. I took them out in the backyard first thing, then passed out meds and treats and filled their food dishes. I did a few more of my own chores then before showering and heading over to Mom and Dad’s house to do whatever was needed there. My sister arrived not long after me and we were able to pare down Mom’s to-do list pretty quickly.

When Mom asked Dad what he wanted for lunch, he asked what the options were. She informed him that there weren’t many. The cupboards were getting bare. I remembered then that I had really been slacking off on my resolution to cook more and make enough to share with my parents. Even cooking on a regular basis is sometimes just too much for my mom.

I ended up running to the local McDonald’s and picking up sandwiches for everyone. Yech! That was motivation for me. As soon as I got back home, I started planning a menu and making a grocery list. It was a dreary, rainy weekend anyway. If I was going to be stuck in the house because of the weather and a recuperating dog, I might as well cook. My parents were my main motivation, but this would benefit my own family as well. Try as I might, I just cannot seem to get into a good routine of cooking. If I manage a home-cooked meal two or three times a week, I’m lucky. So while I doubted I would soon turn over a new leaf and start cooking every night, (I’ve proven myself incapable time and again,) I knew I could do a whole buncha cooking all at once.

I broke out the favorite cookbooks, checked the freezer to see what I already had on hand (lots of ground beef and lots of chicken,) paged through the cookbooks to find the tried and true favorites and whipped out a list. (Go figure. Having a grocery lists makes the shopping so much easier and cheaper!)

I started last evening with the family favorite Sloppy Joe recipe. I made four pounds of this – some for Mom and Dad, some for us, and some for the freezer (at Kacey’s request.) Next I made a big pot of White Chicken Chili, again dividing it into three portions. This morning I made a couple of meat loaves and a big pot of traditional chili and some cornbread muffins. And if my enthusiasm holds out, later on today I’ll make a big pan of lasagna to split with Mom and Dad.

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Yeah, so these aren’t the healthiest of meals, but they’re home-cooked and can be frozen for later use, so that’s half the battle right there. I may have bad habits, but at least I’ve figured out how to capitalize on at least one of them. And we’ll be eating happy this week!