Cheese

A Cheese Bouquet

Dill Havarti is the reason I cannot go vegan.

I love it on crackers, on melba toast, melted, rolled up in a wrap, on a sandwich, baked, fried...ok, not fried. But I seriously enjoy Dill Havarti and all cheese for that matter.

I'm definitely a traditional "wine and cheese" girl, but it doesn't stop there. No, I can plow through a block, or maybe half a block, of cheese with crackers for lunch. Just now, I am enjoying some leftover cheese with toast and crackers for lunch. I'm going to have to throw together a salad and fruit to redeem myself.

After E had to go non-dairy because of lactose issues, I lost my taste for milk. But, I have never lost my love for cheese. I do not know why, but it is one of the few things I actually crave.

I will always have cheese on a veggie burger.

I am pacified by my mom's macaroni and cheese. It's my favorite "comfort food." It's good for my thighs I don't live with her anymore.

Cheese is a perfect part of almost any meal. If you can't put it on top of something, at least have a few bite-sized pieces to the side.

Cheese must be real. I don't do pre-sliced cheese. I don't really do Velveeta anymore, though if someone else cooks it, I will eat it.

If you offer me cheese, I will probably take you up on it.

I always get cheese samples when we go to Harris Teeter. The other day, I told E to go get my sample for me. He came back sad that the box was empty, but offered me a piece of orange instead. I declined. It just wasn't the same as a good piece of cheese.

I do not discriminate in cheese type. I like moldy cheese as well as non-moldy, as long as the mold is supposed to be there. I like holes in my cheese as well as non-holy cheese. I like soft and hard cheeses, including parmesan and brie.

I mourn the fact I will not be a vegan, but only briefly, because I have to stop and go eat some cheese.

Let's Be Honest - Hard Situations & Pity/Pride

2006

The last nine years of my life haven't been easy, by any stretch of the imagination. Three months after I graduated from high school, I had E. The day I had E, I started classes at a local college. Four years after I had E, I graduated from Francis Marion University. Then, after a stint as a butcher shop worker, I moved E out of our comfort zone. We moved 3.5 hours away from my parents and lived on our own in a tiny little place in Clemson, South Carolina. Two years later, I graduated from graduate school with a Master's degree in English. One month later, Tyler and I got married, and E and I once again moved, but to a new city, state, and family.

I don't say all of this to build myself up. I say it to explain what I'm learning about the last nine years. I try and live in my own strength. Growing up, our family motto was from 2 Thessalonians 3:10b — "If you don't work, you don't eat." Well, the actual verse is, "If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat," but my dad always referenced it the first way. I agree with this statement, but in some ways, I made it my mantra to get through life. I took a good thing and made it an idol.

I've always been able to scrape through these situations, or so I tell myself. I'd tell myself I've been strong through our house burning down, I've been strong through being a pregnant teen, I've been strong through school, grad. school, and I've been strong as a single parent.

But the truth is, I've been lonely. I've been hopeless. I've felt trapped. If anyone has been strong, it hasn't been me. If I've made it through the last nine years, and I have, it hasn't been because of my abilities or strengths, but because God, in his ever amazing providence and love, has carried and guided me through that time, as well as providing an amazing structure of community through my parents and a few friends. But only now am I allowing myself to see this. I counted all my goals met and degrees earned, all the compliments to E's personality as my ability to parent as a single mom, as my own ability. It made me proud as if I were the one who did so well.

And I was proud. I was proud I was able to walk through the halls of my school, when fellow students would turn around and look at me as if I was so much different than they were. I was proud I could answer questions about my future and my baby when people finally got the nerve up to ask when I'd wear maternity clothes or what I was going to do the next year (I certainly wasn't going away to school as I had hoped).  Later, I was proud to be able to juggle parenting, a full-load at college, and at times, two part-time jobs. I was proud I could tell the older women I saw that yes, he was my child. Yes, I did look like I was a teenager because I was a teenager. I was proud I could bite my tongue anytime someone stereotyped teen moms as rednecks and people who would never go anywhere in life.

But that pride also evaporated into pity. For the last nine years, I've swung back and forth on a pendulum between pride in myself and self-pity because of my situation. I was accomplishing so much on the surface, and yet during the nights of being alone in the quiet of the dawn with a screaming baby, in the grumblings of my heart when I saw friends' "normal" lives, I threw a giant pity-party. I demanded of God, "why me?" Why was I punished for a sin that so many commit? Why did I have to deal with so much on my own? Of course, I didn't listen for any kind of answers, but continued on my way as if God didn't answer.

Don't misunderstand. I have always loved E. From the moment I knew he existed, and I always knew it was a "he," I have loved him. In all of my self-pity, I have loved him. But I have also been selfish, thinking that I was the one who "got caught."

This pride/pity thrived on my selfishness, as if I deserved something greater than what I was experiencing. The difference between whether I was wearing Pride or Pity stemmed only from the circumstance, one that could change in the turn of a page or the cry of a child. As I responded to my situation, I never considered that my attitude, of all things, could actually be the problem. I never considered that the whole thing wasn't just about me and what I wanted, but rather what was best for me in the big picture of life. E has always been God's perfect plan for my life.

Pride and self-pity have controlled so much in the last nine years. They've prevented me from making no more than a few deep friendships. They've controlled how I respond to almost every situation. They have tormented me constantly. Yet, I clung to them as if they were the only thing that would get me through. I clung to myself, my constantly flawed and failing self. On the outside, I would say I knew God was in control. I would say I knew He had a plan for my life. But on the inside, I thought if I didn't work, if I didn't control it myself, then I would never get anywhere. My actions and thoughts reflected the lies I believed.

I am so thankful to see this selfishness exposed. I am so thankful to be moving past it. I am so thankful I don't have to do this on my own. I am so thankful for God's providence. I am so thankful to have Tyler. I am so thankful to have E.

2012

"He is before all things, and in him all things hold together." - Colossians 1:17

A life-giving song for the day.

Weekend and a few links.

Happy Weekend, everyone! We've got a busy one this go-round. Tyler's parents are visiting, Tyler's mother and I are attending the Uptown Women's Conference, and I'm helping throw a baby shower on Sunday. We definitely will not run out of things to do.

I am so excited to post on the shower decor and food next week. Be prepared for Mustaches.

On an afternoon where I'm cleaning like whoa, I'd rather be sitting here.

or maybe here(but inside).

These are happy thoughts, beautiful places. I'm just thankful for the pictures.

Two-Toned Brown Nails.

Favorite Fall Craft of the Week - Thanks for the tip, Faith!

Birthday Cake Fudge

Life in the Mundane - Oblivious Moments

Today, I went to the laundromat for the first time in my whole life. I went, not because our washer and dryer are broken, but because they are too small.

A few months ago, E had his second stomach virus ever and threw up on his comforter. I spot cleaned it, I promise. But I also believed it needed a good dousing and deep cleaning. So like any good mother, I took it off his bed and shoved it into the deep recesses of his little-boy room, where it's remained until today.

Don't worry, E has not been suffering through the cold, 63 degree in the house, evenings for two reasons.
1. He sweats like none other when he sleeps.
2. I threw a fleece blanket on his bed, which has been enough.

But, my in-laws are coming for the weekend, and I couldn't expect them to survive on a sheet and fleece throw, even though we do have two fleece throws. I couldn't bring myself to not wash the comforter.

So, I headed out to the laundromat today. And like any modern techno-girl (am I really one of those?), I looked up reviews online to find a laundromat on the map and also to know which one was the best.

I decided on Peachy Kleen on Monroe because it's close to our place and had really great reviews. And truly, it was clean and I felt quite safe, even though I was the only person in the place almost the whole time. I don't think there was anyone working except the mailman who dropped some letters off.

But here's the kicker. For all the things I've done in life, including getting a Master's Degree, birthing a child, running a half-marathon, writing an 80-page thesis, learning show choir dances, I couldn't figure out how to use the washing machine or the dryer.

Cleaning

I hate to admit it, but some of their machines didn't have coin slots, and I had no clue what to do in order to pay. Apparently, laundromats have upgraded to cards that you can pre-pay on for washes and drying cycles. However, I was unaware and didn't realize this situation until I was leaving.

So I walked in, wandered around, trying to figure out which was the washer and which was the dryer on the large walls and machines lined up around the building. And of course, I did figure it out, but I'm sure if anyone else had been there, they'd have thought I was lost.

It's in the mundane where people's stupidity and ignorance really shows. It's almost as if for the epic moments in life, we arise to the occasion and follow through when least expected. But in the day-to-day, we, or I, just cannot get it together. Not only did I not know how to use the machines, but I forgot to bring enough quarters to pay for a full load. Good thing I had some of E's money with me, which I did pay back later. It's a relief kids save and carry around money in change.

I'll be back. Tyler and my comforter needs some help as well. The process will be much smoother next time.


For some reason today, I'm reliving the day Tyler asked me to marry him. And our subsequent video-making project. I cannot believe the short length of my hair.

Dec. 31, 2010 - Philadelphia, PA

Avett Brothers + Neutral Milk Hotel = YES, PLEASE!

Breakfast Phyllo Dough Experiment

Last week, I attended a women's brunch and wasn't really sure what to make. I looked in the freezer to see what we had to work with. I found, what I forgot we had, phyllo dough. Then I had to scour the internet for a good breakfast recipe using phyllo dough.

This Flaky Egg Bake seemed to fit the bill. I had almost everything for the recipe except the peppers and, of course, the meat. The recipe suggests freezing it before, but I wasn't really interested in doing that. However, know the prep time for the bake was more than I wanted to spend at 7 a.m., I made it the night before. Then I kept the bake in the fridge over night and cooked it just before my brunch.

When I went to make the filling, I found my mushrooms had gone bad, which was sad, but it tasted fine without them. I also used the cheese blends I already had, though I did pick up some havarti at Trader Joe's. I did use some basil from my herb garden, which has since died. I neglected to bring it in during our cold nights. I'll restart again.

The Filling

Layering up the phyllo dough with the butter and filling wasn't too difficult. I actually like working with phyllo dough because it's pretty forgiving. Even if the sheets rip in half, they will meld back together while baking. One of the interesting things the recipe suggested was cutting the bake into servings before baking. I hadn't thought of this before, but baked phyllo dough is not as forgiving, meaning it breaks into tiny pieces when cut or pushed on too hard. But, before baking, phyllo dough cuts nicely and looks good.

Flaky Egg Bake minus the mushrooms

This recipe worked out really well. Tyler gladly disposed of the leftovers and was thankful to have gotten some of it. He definitely was hoping for some after seeing me put it together. 

A slice of yum

Let's Be Honest - Election Day Blues

Image from extratv.com

I'm not an overly political person. I will always take advantage of my right to vote every 2-4 years. However, you will rarely, if ever, see me start a conversation or maybe even participate in a conversation about politics.

I don't do this because I'm uneducated on politics and think they're stupid. Well, I am pretty uneducated on them, but out of choice rather than out of ignorance. I don't participate because it's not worth my time nor does it accomplish anything except to encourage spite and enmity between individuals.

I don't keep up with politics for the same reason I don't keep up with news channels. I believe most politicians and news stations are pretty much controlled by money and powerful people and companies. I don't believe true and honest change is going to come from largely elected people. I'm a fan of change happening through local elections and through local mercy and service organizations and ministries more so than by macro-politics (I do realize the government makes rules and regulations that may change the way our country is run and even influence the way I live my life. However, these changes will not alter my identity or what I believe.).

By the time people are so well known that they've reached amazing political greatness, and I do mean the kind that culminates in tons of hype and smoke and mirrors, people have basically sold their souls to others who donate money to them, who give them references, and to their political party for supporting them. I don't care which political party you support, this is most likely the case. Then, they must win the hearts of those people with their decisions in order to keep the money and support coming. It's a vicious cycle.

Part of me really pities politicians. They are stuck in a web of trying to keep everyone happy while at the same time trying to make solid decisions for our country. And let's be honest, who is truly qualified to make decisions for all Americans? Who isn't swayed by what people around them are pressuring for or who donate the largest checks, especially if those checks put someone in power? However, these politicians dedicated their lives to trying to this job, so they have brought their anxiety and distress on themselves and their families. I do not envy them.

The other part of me, the part that does not pity politicians, is thankful that at the end of the day, my hope or despair does not come from the outcome of the election today. I will not shake with fear or triumph with a victory dance either way. It's not that I'm apathetic. I'm just not 100% in support of either candidate. However, I am completely confident that neither candidate for president will solve American's problems in the next four years. It's a physical impossibility. Have you noticed how much gray hair they already get just trying to solve one or two problems?

I also believe the general public wastes so much of its time talking about change, hoping for change, and arguing for what needs to be changed in order for our society to be a success, that people miss out on all the opportunities to create and encourage change in their own little world. If people really want to see change, they need to stop arguing about politics and love their neighbor. They need to comfort the people who are fearful and hopeless in their communities. People need to grieve with others at their loss, celebrate with others at success, feed others when they cannot feed themselves, and love those who seem impossible to love. This is change - unconditional love in a world governed by conditions, stipulations, and rules. God is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. He is Love. He loves the unlovable. He desires real change in people and works to see that happen.

Today I'll go and vote for state officials. I may even vote for president. But I am confident that no matter what the election brings, the world will not end nor suddenly be saved from its problems or potential problems. Wars will continue to be fought, poverty will continue to cry in hunger, and success will continue to flourish.  The 99% will continue to be the 99% (Only 1% of the population will ever be the richest 1% of the population - It's a mathematical law.). There is nothing we can do individually to stop this. But we can create change around us. We can love others, rehabilitate others, and work to see lives changed if we just step off our soap box and out into our community. Our neighbors are waiting.

A Pumpkin Carver is Born

This post is a bit late, but I thought it was notable enough to have a belated appearance.

Last week, Tyler carved his first pumpkin ever. And in typical Tyler-style, he went all out.

The design? R2-D2. It was perfect. Tyler and Ethan decided to carve inside because it was rainy and cold, not to mention dark, when they finally got around to carving.

"The first cut is the deepest..." - Cat Stevens

Gooey Hands

Using a spoon to get the guts out.

A new adventure

While the boys worked on the pumpkin, I made German Hot Chocolate with almond milk (for Ethan's sake). It was delicious.

Trinkschokolade

Our friend, Joseph, came over to help. His artistic expertise was greatly valued. When Tyler realized he bit off more than he could chew, Joseph was there to help. It was a really difficult pattern and Ethan couldn't do too much.

Many minds necessary for pumpkin perfection

The finished product. Amazed.

I also scooped out the pumpkin seeds and followed this recipe for Spiced Pumpkin Seeds. Tyler's response: "I should have carved the second pumpkin so you could make more."

Oven-Roasted Spiced Pumpkin Seeds