A Proverbs 31 Kind of Day

Honestly, the Mr. and two cherubs never tire of pasta. They love it. I, on the other hand, am not so crazy about pasta. It's not a "love-hate" relationship, I would describe more of a "take or leave" relationship. If we are at an Italian restaurant, I search for something that sounds good, and it's never a surprise if I don't order a pasta dish. But let me camp there for a minute . . . pasta is so cheap to serve, but restaurants charge a fortune for it! It drives me c.R.a.Z.y!  Seriously! That really may be the root of why I don't go nuts over spaghetti! That, and it's served as "the cheap food" when you're trying to feed a crowd. Pasta -- my family loves it! Monday night, I'm staring at everything in the fridge and thinking, "what to have for dinner?" Then I remembered the homemade pesto sauce I have stored in the freezer. And the pasta noodles I just purchased. I knew my girl che

I hate to admit it, but I will. I'm not really sure when I realized that "fig" was an actually fruit, and should be said, "a fig . . ." Rather, I grew up thinking "fig" was part of a cookie name, as in "fig newton." Now, before you rush to judgment, I'm not hating on fig newton cookies. I grew up where these cookies were kept in the cabinets. Honestly, I don't remember packages of Chips Ahoy, Peppridge Farm, or even Oreos. I remember fig newton cookies. So I like them. Which made me think, I must like figs. Because after all, it's in the cookie; right? Since those early days, I have come to learn that figs are a fruit. A fruit I have never bought. Until today. While grocery shopping, I saw some black mission figs and bought several. Having no idea what to do with them, I came home and learned. Thank goodness for google and youtube! I learned how to know when a fig is ripe, when a fig is in

Most of the people in my tribe like oatmeal. There's only one who doesn't really prefer it. Maybe that's because I didn't train her up right? My youngest cherub doesn't really care for oatmeal, while my oldest cherub would eat it on most any morning. The Mr. grew up at his grandparents eating "hot cereal." That, for some reason, has always kind of grossed me out. I don't know why. But every time he says, "want me to make some 'hot cereal'?"  I just think to myself, "can't you just say 'oatmeal'?" Anyway . . . remember the recent trip to visit our boy cherub at college? Where we went to the breakfast place but only had two choices? One of those was baked oatmeal.  . . . or, in honor of the Mr, 'baked hot cereal'!  (insert laughing emoji!) Of course, the Mr. ordered baked oatmeal for breakfast. Being a good wife, I offered myself a bite of his breakfast. That's what

Since our oldest cherub has gone to college, we find ourselves traveling to his college home on many weekends in the Fall. That's because we have season tickets to the home football games. This gives us a change to see our cherub, meet his friends, secretly check in on him; all in the name of being football fans. It's awesome! When we go, of course we take him out to eat. But I also haul a small fridge worth of supplies to him. When we go out to a new place in town, I peruse the menu looking for new items to recreate. This weekend, our cherub took us to a hip place. He said there were "lots of gluten free options." Clearly, he is mis-persuaded by what "lots" means. He likes the new place, and I can certainly see why. It was fun, busy, hip, and trendy. But "lots" of gluten free options wasn't really their forte. But of the three choices, two of them were really good. Which spurred me on to look up