dairy free, sugar free, easy peasy "ice cream"

Gather the following ingredients:

• 2 large bunches of ripe, but not overripe, bananas
• tons of cinnamon
• vanilla extract
• coconut oil
• blender

Peel and break in half as many bananas as will fit into your blender.  Turn the blender to the lowest speed.  DO NOT PUT ANY LIQUID INTO THE BLENDER.  Carefully push bananas down into the blades until they are liquid.  Add more bananas, about 2T coconut oil, a dump truck load of cinnamon, and, ohhhh, about 1T +/- extract (depending upon the quality, I used Tone's from Sams, and it says it is real, but I'm a skeptic).  Now turn that puppy to the second to the highest level of power to make sure everything is combined.

Pour mixture into some sort of freezer safe plastic ware.  Let freeze for 24 hours.
Next time I think I may only put 1/2 a dump truck load of the cinnamon and replace it with 1/2 c of extremely strong espresso.  Also, this recipe wouldn't be terrible if there were some chocolate sauce or caramel sauce ribboned through it.... though it would no longer be sugar free.
If you make it and come up with some additional suggestions, please share them!

photo fail, but you get the idea

PS-You're welcome!

corn

"I just don't get it.  I mean.... I chew it."

not limited to sticks: in which we learn that any two things, when rubbed together, could potentially cause a fire

There is a female usher at church who is always so very nicely dressed.  She hails from the generation just before mine and though I can't say for sure, I am pretty certain she must have carry one of my same crosses: fat thighs.  The reason "how come I know" is that this morning at Mass during the Offertory as she walked past,  No. 4 leans over and asked, "Mommy, what's that swish swish swish noise?"

I shivered remembering the painful hours I logged in two decades ago as a chafed, thin-thighed wannabe.

Ahhh, that would be control top pantyhose young Grasshopper.

tabouli tabouleh tabbouleh: no matter how you spell it, we're in for a yummy weekend

Back when King and I were newlyweds, we lived on Florida's panhandle in a sweet little hamlet called Mexico Beach.  We had some pretty wonderful friends, and Melina and Jack were among them.  Jack was an amazing man and a military hero whose rich history lent itself to entertain us with his amazing stories.  His laugh was infectious in itself.  I learned much, too, from Melina-  an artist, a teacher, a photographer, a cat lover, sun lover, and all around fun friend.  Melina's ancestors were from Lebanon and she handed down to me her family's amazing recipe for Tablouli.  I can still remember the day she taught me to make the delicious and beautiful parsley salad.  Such fresh ingredients with their fragrant smells filling her kitchen. 

So, each year about this time, I am led by my taste buds to get a culinary jump start to summer!  As soon as I place the parsley into my shopping cart, my heart floods with those wonderful, colorful, warm, summer memories. 

You can't whip up a batch in just a few minutes.  It is a long process.  So much so that I am pretty sure the Lebanese translation of Tabouli must be "delicious labor of love."

Here is a photographic recipe of most all of the ingredients that go into it...but, I can't tell you all of them.  You'd have to come spend some time in my kitchen, laughing and bonding.  It's just the way it's done. 

look around

... if you pay close enough attention you will notice that we are now seeing the sense of entitlement that has resulted from Everybody Gets A Trophy Syndrome.  It ain't pretty when it grows up, is it?

to my children

Let me be clear: unless you see that I have lost my sense of humor, we are not in a fight.  The tone of my voice is naturally like this when I am trying to be as succinct as possible without getting even wordier than I already naturally am.

What we are experiencing, rather, is a type of refiner's fire.  I can see the person you are becoming and through an intense "heated" moment, I am helping you shed, or burn away the part of you that is not part of your mature adult self.  I am also maturing in the process.

Michelangelo's Pieta - that gorgeous image was always inside that chunk of marble.  From the beginning of the earth it was there.  Michelangelo Buonarroti chiseled away what didn't belong.  Sure it was a messy process, but wasn't it worth it? 

Now that you have taken good shape and we are just putting in the details, we must keep you protected from anything that might chip your exterior or leave exquisite marble stained.  You will be going on tour soon enough and we must teach you how to respect the creation you are by being very careful about who and what you let pass those museum ropes. 

I see the beautiful creation you are to become.  Please understand that we must both go through times like this to grow and mature into who God wants us to be. 

deep thoughts from a six year old

Number 4 always melts my heart when he starts up a game of "I Love You As Much As.."

This morning he said he loved me "the same amount that I want to go to Heaven."

"Wow,"  King commented, "that's a lot!"

"Yeah, I'm just dying to go to Heaven," he gushed.  Then, realizing the pun, he added,
"Well, actually I am dying to go to Heaven.  Every day, every second, every minute, every week."