Really? I have to go shopping while my eyeball is still healing and irritated?

Really? I have to go shopping while my eyeball is still healing and irritated? Ok. I'm very thankful and honored the boys just HAVE TO HAVE two of my Holiday recipes. One of them really is worth making me get out. It's a recipe for a sweet potato casserole that has lots of pecans, crushed cornflakes, and brown sugar. Although the sweet potatoes and pecans are quite good for you, all of the butter, sugar and brown sugar wipe out the healthy part. Or, maybe they balance each other. Who knows? Who cares? It's just downright devilicious. The other dish is one that I'm sure is on everyone's table at this time of year, macaroni and cheese. However this one is the dee-luxe version that includes sour cream and cottage cheese. Another fattening, but oh so tasty, worth the calories, etc. kind of fare. And to be honest, the guys have volunteered to help with the cooking and clean-up.


But ... I'm wishing, yet once again, that my name were Samantha and I held magical powers, and could twitch my nose and skip the grocery lines.


Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

"In a few years" is going to come way too soon

Zach being on crutches has handicapped the entire household. He really helps out quite a bit around here. Chores that became his: kitchen trash duty; getting the recycling ready for pick-up, then bringing the empty containers back inside; making sure the street trash container makes it to the curb and then returns to its hidden home behind the bushes; mowing the yard; getting the leaves mulched at this time of year; turning down my boiling over water in the kitchen when I have walked away and started doing something else; checking the pressure in my tires; and more. In other words, the little bugger is very much a part of what makes the Hyorth household work each day.

I realize now how I've just gotten used to him doing what he's supposed to do. Sure, he has to be reminded sometimes, but don't we all? It's also a huge, in-the-face, get ready message to mom that her not so little boy/young man will be leaving home in a few years. And, I'm just not ready for that day. Never thought I'd hear myself say that out loud. I'm proud of my independent streak and I've often downright bragged about leaving home at 18 and never having had to return and move back in. Looking back, I left home way too soon and for all the wrong reasons, but that's a tale for another time.

What I realize today, is that maybe instead of reminding with the mother tone that says "Zach ....", perhaps I need to remember just how much he does help. Remind him that his taking care of certain chores has given him a sense of responsibility that has earned our trust. I also need to hug him more often. "In a few years" is going to come way too soon, I suspect.

Gotta go ... I hear the water boiling.