pancakes make the world go round

This day, 47 days prior to Easter rolls around every year.

Fat-Tuesday-600

In anticipation of the Lenten season, many Christian religions need to clear cupboards of eggs, milk and sugar.  Traditionally, these items are not eaten during the fasting season.

So, today, the day prior to Ash Wednesday,  I bring you Fat Tuesday or Shrove Tuesday.

Simply put:

HELLO, pancakes!

Quick, short home-school lesson:

The name Shrove Tuesday comes from ‘shrive’, meaning absolution for sins by doing penance.

The day gets its name from the tradition of Christians trying to be ‘shriven’ before Lent. Christians would go to Confession, where they admit their sins to a priest and ask for absolution. A bell would be rung to call them to Confession, which was called the ‘pancake bell’. It’s still rung today.

In the US it’s called Mardi Gras aka ‘Fat Tuesday’ in French mainly because we use up the fatty foods before Lent.

Pancake Day itself came much later as a way of using up rich foods, like eggs, milk and sugar before the 40 days of fasting Lent.

Since we don’t regularly use milk and sugar…..and I am always, always trying to get more veggies onto our plates………………

korean pancakesToday, for a little twist of the traditional pancake, I will be making  Pajeon (scallion ) Korean pancakes with a tasty dipping sauce for dinner.

Who among us doesn’t drool over and love every single bite of the small, pancakes filled with vegetables?

scallions and cabbage and carrots, Oh, my!

Do you make pancakes each year for Shrove Tuesday?

In this together friends,

Happy Fat Tuesday!

Chat soon.

 

honor

This New Years’ Eve was happily no different from the last 3 decades and then some. We spent the evening doing a puzzle (and eating tasty snacks, of course). 20180101_112026-1_resized

Heck, I recently came across a picture of us during the dating years.  We are both leaning over a table in my parent’s house, yes, doing a jigsaw puzzle. Certainly a piece of our story.

If you know us, you know we look for a puzzle and save it for December 31st.  Our kids and friends, inevitably ask what puzzle we have chosen.

Some years the chosen puzzle is a snap. Time zooms by as we wait for the hands of the clock to strike midnight.   This year’s choice took 3 hours in the evening, then 2 more hours the following day.  It was a challenge and boy howdy did we feel a sense of accomplishment when that last piece (which was on the floor, duh) was put into place.

(side note)  Mr. Right was a marriage counselor for several years, more times than I can count, people ask, what’s the secret?  How do we keep our relationship working smoothly & thriving, vital, happy etc?  One answer I want to give is jigsaw puzzles, haha. Every now and then, spend five hours sitting next to someone, with a common goal and you get lots of communicating done.  

Once we get all the pieces turned over, the music is on, somehow the evening holds its own magic and the ideas come tumbling out.   On the cusp of the new year, we talk about wishes, goals, resolutions.  We say them aloud to the universe.

In that exact moment when the clock strikes midnight, we honor the moment……..we dare to hope. fireworks, space needle

Above the neighborhood fireworks, the mad dash to brush our teeth before the midnight smooch, there is an electric feeling in the air.  A feeling of possibility & hope for the new year.

This year, I have chosen the word Honor.

I will slip it into my pocket and carry it with me the entire year ahead. pocket

When looking up the word Honor you will find descriptive words:

  dignify, exalt, adore, keep, respect

I intend to honor the health choices that have brought me to this moment.  I want to be brave enough to talk about how, for five years, I have healed by following a path less traveled.

I intend to honor my body with continued excellent food, sunshine, movement and fresh air.

I intend to honor our home.  I make an effort every day and will continue to create a sanctuary of beauty and peace.  A beautiful place to thrive, rest & renew.

I intend to honor my craft.  I will create and share with my family, works of art from my hands. This is the year, I intend to have pictures taken of my hands creating beautiful pieces that will be given to our children and grands.  To me, this is much more than a hobby.  These are pieces of my heart and soul that I am choosing to honor my family with.

I will, with intention,  honor my husband.  I will no longer, leave out glowing comments about the man I spend my days with.  I will try my very best to soften the edges as to not sound boastful.  With the intent of not bragging, I have found myself, not exalting how fortunate I am.

It is my goal to remember to say aloud and thank him on a daily basis for guiding our family, taking the reins, mapping our course, lifting me up, making me feel like a giddy school girl who is loved and adored.

It is my job to honor him.  I am very good at my job.  I am going to try to be a bit better.

Not because he saved my life.

Not because I promised years ago to honor and cherish him.

Not because he leaves me a handwritten letter every single morning that he leaves for work.

No, not because he brings me fresh flowers every single Sunday.  Yes, every single Sunday.

GOOD GRAVY,  I love that man and I want to intentionally honor him through my actions & words20171211_132241_resized_1 on a daily basis.   He deserves to hear how much he is respected, adored, loved and honored every day.

Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill. Buddha

I would love for you to share the word you have chosen to slip into your pocket for 2018.  Maybe we can lift each other up?  By sharing our words, intentions, and wishes just maybe, we will each be stronger and more successful in attaining our goals?

Happy New Year!

In this together, friends.

Chat soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WWTSMWD

What would the Sargent Major’s Wife Do?

My brother-in-law, was a SGT. Major in the US Army.  Gosh, I love that guy.  Don’t tell him I said so.  He doesn’t “do” mushy.  haha.  When I first met him, I’ll be honest, he scared me.  During those Army days, he scared me more.

Days have slipped by and somehow I am not scared of him or his gruff voice anymore. He is one of the good guys.  He is the kind of man you want on your side when the Zombies come over that hill.

You all know by now, I love, love, love my sister-in-law.

Here is something you might not know about Army wives……they are the “behind the scenes” magic girls.  They are the reason things look & move so smooth in the military.  My sister in law, use to get up at 3:15 AM to make breakfast, so the Army man in her life could have a decent home cooked meal, before heading into work.

She always ironed his t-shirts.  Just in case, he was in his office and it got hot.  If he took off his Battle Dress Uniform jacket, his Army t-shirt would be crisply ironed to perfection.

My Army guy knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would be wise NOT to eat anything, I mean anything that I tried to cook for him at 3 in the morning.  Some Army wives just aren’t morning girls.

Each and every Memorial Day, our Army guys do what they promised to do.

They remember.

20170528_113743-1_resized_2They owe their fallen military brother and sisters the respect of remembering. Their uniforms are spit spot ready. Their shoes shined like the sun glistening off calm water. Their brass is shined within an inch of its life.  The smell of Brasso lingers in the air.  Their uniforms are lint free with nary a wrinkle in sight.

The morning before we went to the cemetery, I asked Mr. Right if his dress shirt was ready?  Drats.  I had forgotten to iron it.

For a fleeting moment, I thought to myself…..geesh, you only see about 2 inches of collar and a half-inch of shirt. Sometimes, you spy a quarter-inch of the cuff…….

Who would know if I only ironed those parts?  It would be my secret.

When it comes to ironing, I am not always the most willing & cheerful person.  I could just do those parts and move on with taming my hair into a something a bit reserve and respectful.

As the iron heated, I had “the” thought…. What would the SGT. Major’s wife do?

Oh, I think we both know the answer.

I told Mr. Right what I was thinking.  He chuckled and said, the SGT. Major’s wife would probably iron it twice!  ha

Mr. Right’s shirt was starched & ironed with perfect creases, not a wrinkle to be found.

The shirt was ironed to perfection, every single inch of it.  20170528_112312_resized_3

A perfectly ironed shirt.  Befitting a solider headed to pay his respects and make good on his promise.

 

We are a grateful family.

We remember.