If you hand me a string of words, and say, “Make something out of this,” I could create a masterpiece. A Quilt of Words. If you handed me a house, and said, decorate this, make this a masterpiece. I would fail miserably. Fortunately, I have friends who can do that for me… simple things, like telling me where the desk should go. Right now, my husband and I are in the market for a new paint color for the kitchen. Our “research” has been to visit favorite restaurants and “analyze” those colors. Then, armed with “favorites,” my friend picked this color: Sherwin Williams Dovetail Gray:

this color will match our countertops, “perfectly.” And it does. It’s funny that this is her “final answer.” She doesn’t wonder if maybe green would work, or brown… this is the “right answer,” and she knows this. Just like, I know how long the sentence should be. This one should be short. And the one that follows should be, and will be, quite long:

Enamored with her talent to pick colors, I found this website… which creates an entire

palette for you from nature, or found objects. I am so intrigued with how this works that I can barely contain myself. You can pick your own colors with a palette picker,

(Isn’t it just amazing… how all of those colors are RIGHT there.. and I can’t even see them– until I see this?!)

and it fetches an entire color palette.

schemes for you…

or you can pick a type. Like this vintage red, that I just love…

it screams “kitchen” to me…

I found this sitting on my desk this morning.

With a note attached:

And they just told me they get out of school early tomorrow…

If you want to be skinny, and stay skinny, there’s one thing you need to do: Love Your Vegetables. I mean, really LOVE them. You have to find a way to cook them, without fancy high-fat creams and sauces, that causes you to crave them as much as you would crave a candy bar. Heck, you don’t even have to cook them. I still carry a bag of raw radishes in my car whenever I run errands, because I LOVE THAT CRUNCH!!

But, roasting them, that’s the ultimate, cheesecake, of all cheesecakes in the vegetable world. Trust me on this. For this one, I’ll show you how I roast cabbage — stop groaning — it’s DELICIOUS!!! When you roast the cabbage, it gets rid of all of that smelly stuff, and transforms the cabbage into some kind of caramel — because the sugars do come out. This taste so good, that I’m wondering of maybe roasting cabbage adds calories, and I just don’t know it, yet.

So, this is similar to the way I make Krispy Kale, but takes a bit longer. I do this one in the oven, because the heads of cabbage are thicker, and needs “surround heat.”

First, preheat your oven to 425 degrees.

Chop up your head of cabbage into wedges… and go ahead and nibble on those stray pieces… get used to that cold, crunch freshness… it’s delicious!

The cabbage is already a little bit roasted — I pulled it out of the oven to grab a picture. (I was hungry).

Then, rub a large pan with olive oil, and sprinkle with salt. Go light on the olive oil — you want enough to keep the cabbage from sticking — maybe a tablespoon or two — or less.

Next, dredge your cabbage, on both sides, in the olive oil and spread the oil around the pan. If you are lucky enough to have an olive oil “sprayer” that you trust, just use that. The ones I find usually end up getting moldy.

Then, lay the wedges nicely along the pan — then sprinkle with a few more grinds of sea salt.

Pop the whole tray into the oven, and roast for 425 degrees for 25-30 minutes and flip at the halfway point.

Here they are, halfway roasted.

They look done… but another 10 minutes, and I got this:

Now, what to do with it? Does it look scary to you? Think of it as a roast… all caramelized and yummy with onions on top.

Next, grab yourself a big cereal bowl, and plop one of those caramelized wedges inside. Then, drizzle it a bit with balsamic vinegar — if you like that sort of thing — and a few more grinds of salt.

Next, pick out your favorite cheese (you need a protein to make this a full-filling meal!) — a hard cheese is nice — I have been using Manchego, and it has been delicious.

Eat this — and be truly satisfied. Trust me, you will be. You will start to wonder if you’re cheating… maybe this is LOADED with calories. If it is — I don’t want to know.

Now — here’s the key: Limit yourself to just one wedge… for now. Seal the rest of the wedges in an airtight container. Then, later in the day, when your stomach starts to growl, just remember that bowl of cabbage in your fridge… with that hard cheese, just waiting for you.

Pull one out, and pop it into the microwave, grate some cheese, and enjoy. Soon, you’ll be craving cabbage all day long. I’ve stored the wedges up to ten days — so make a big batch, and have it one hand for cravings.

In the middle of Christmas shopping, and grocery shopping for all the guests for the holidays, I ran out of my favorite shampoo.

When I say favorite, I don’t mean I like the shampoo; I mean it is my hair’s favorite shampoo. My hair just won’t cooperate without this shampoo; this shampoo is the only one that keeps my hair from getting dried out, tangled, and frizzy-all at the same time.

Except, it was Christmas day, and I still had not remembered to make that special stop at the beauty store for my shampoo. The stores were now closed.

Luckily, the good folks at BlogHer sent me some new shampoo and conditioner to try out and write a review — Head & Shoulders Apple Hair Care. Now, my son uses Head & Shoulders but I had never tried it. I don’t have dandruff. My hair, though, does have special needs. Beauty shop, expensive, fancy hair product special needs.

I grabbed the shampoo, and through my watery-bleary eyes from the shower, the bottle of conditioner right beside it. Would that mean my hair would be so dry from the dandruff shampoo that I would need a rinse of conditioner? My son was pretty happy with this shampoo — flake free, and he said his hair didn’t feel dried out. But, he’s not a girl. His hair isn’t chemically treated. The water’s running… if I don’t make a decision quick, I’m going to be out of hot water soon… So I poured that Head & Shoulders shampoo into the palm of my hand, and rubbed it in.

Now, this smelled great, and this shampoo had a creamy, silky lather, the kind that is easy to work around the roots of your hair to work it into your scalp. This was a plus.

I rinsed it off, and gave my hair a quick run through, and I realized there was not a tangled frizzy mess on my head that would need a cupful of conditioner to work through just so I could get a comb through my hair.

Could it be that this bottle of Head & Shoulders was really gentle and pH balanced for use even on color treated hair? Just like the bottle said?

So, I tried the conditioner. Same yummy scent but with a nice creamy texture that rivaled my expensive “beauty salon” brand. With my hand, I rubbed the conditioner in my hair, and then ran a comb through it all, while in the shower, before I rinsed out the conditioner.

I was worried my hair would end up too gummy, or greasy, after all is said and done, but it was a risk I was willing to take to ensure that the conditioner reached all those places. Then, I rinsed the conditioner. I stepped out of the shower, patted dry my hair, and ran a comb through it, leaving my hair untangled and smooth!

But would my hair really be clean? Time would tell. My hair takes forever to dry; it’s thick and unruly. After about 4 hours (long time) my hair was thoroughly dry-and thoroughly clean-and I still smelled like that fresh apple scent.

Yes. Head & Shoulders is good enough to handle colored hair to leave it feeling silky, clean and smooth.

So Christmas day is not technically “date night,” but I’d love to hear what is your routine for getting ready for a date night? Leave me a comment to be entered for a chance to win a $50 Visa gift card.”

Rules:

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Be sure to visit the Promotions & Prizes page on BlogHer.com where you can read other bloggers’ reviews and find more chances to win! And visit the Life Well Lived section on BlogHer.com for more great tips on looking your best.

This new blog will be open only to private readers. Susiej will stay here — with updates on new recipes, and tips, but the new blog will be quite private. In a week, I will pull this post, and this limited time offer — and any hint of this new blog, will disappear.
I have emails and comments from many of you — this is for the those of you who are still on the fence. The offending party is currently blocked — but I can only block for a short amount of time…
If you want to keep reading on my new blog, leave me a comment below, or drop me an email… and I’ll give you further instructions….

A fragment of a grocery shopping list… this is probably about 25-30 years old. It’s her handwriting.

The address label is her mother’s… also about 25-30 years old. I keep these fragments tucked into a drawer… too insignificant for a page in scrapbook, or it’s own “sleeve” in a photo album, but because her handwriting beckons her presence, these scraps are not insignificant enough to toss in the trash. So, I compromise and just keep them in the drawer in the china cabinet in the dining room. Whenever I do  happen to come across them, it’s like she dropped in for a surprise visit. I never expect to find her, when I do.

People are, for one period in time, a mass of cells, atoms and matter — dense — and they take up physical space. They are real.  This is how we define people. Then, poof, they will disappear like dust in an instant. And all you have left, as proof that they once stood here in physical form, are snippets of their handwriting, or the address label that once directed posts to a home.

Not until those bundles of cells are crumbled into dust do you begin to see what has been there all along. What people truly are transcends physical space. They are, instead completely malleable, with a capacity to reside in the corners of drawers, alive in those certain songs, and silently standing by your side as that scent settles around your shoulders.

Time is such a wonderful healer.

While we were staying at the hospital for our 23 hour tour, he was not allowed to eat. Surgery may have been eminent. His IV was hooked up for fluids (spare me the memory of watching him squirm and cry while his vein “blew” three times just trying to place the IV).

The next morning, it had been 18 hours since our last meal. I was ravenous… but I didn’t dare ask him if he was, for fear of inciting latent hunger pangs lingering in his tummy, just below the surface.

Mamma’s gotta eat… I needed my strength for whatever else would be laid out in front of me for the day.

I took a stroll down to the hospital cafeteria. This was a far walk… I had planned to eat down in the cafeteria, but it was so far — I couldn’t leave him alone that long. So, the plan was to eat in the room — with him — so I had to pick out something that would simply repulse him. That would be easy — he’s a picky eater — the vegetarian that doesn’t eat vegetables.

I scanned the salad bar, the soup kettles, the vending machines full of partially hydrogenated oils (his favorites!) and the clear plastic containers of tuna sandwiches and wraps. Soon, I spotted the perfect meal. Sushi. He hates Sushi.  And this was Hospital Sushi. I hesitated myself… but, hey, the word “hospital” in front of sushi would be the ultimate sacrifice. Nothing says Mommy is sacrificing too, like “hospital sushi.”

So, I carried my plastic tray of Hospital Sushi, and a cup of green tea back into room 523, where my son sat waiting, already glued to a video game of tic tac toe on the flat screen TV above his bed.

He noticed. “Is that urr lunch?”
“Yeah,” I said, and quickly followed up with those revolting words, “Hospital sushi.”

Without missing a beat, he looked up at me with his pitiful brown eyes, and said, “Can I have a tiny speck of your rice?”

I will add that that pitiful tray of Hospital Sushi was the worst meal I’ve ever eaten in my entire life. I couldn’t even finish the thing.

Within an hour, the nurse announced it was time for him to eat. This is what he ordered off the hospital menu:

• A bowl of rice
• Waffles
• Macaroni and Cheese
• Pears
• Green Gelatin
• Two cups of apple juice
• Sprite

The food came. He was busy eating. In silence. When the nurse came in to check on him, she said, “How’s your food.”

He mumbled, without looking up from his plate, “It’s dewicious.”

And he ate every tiny speck of a crumb.

So, friend, this is what I ended up making for that dinner party. This cobbler cheesecake was so beautiful when it came out of the oven. However, by the time I had the camera ready, this is all that was left.

It was so gorgeous, with the parchment paper all crinkly and brown and the perfectly round cheesecake nestled inside of the brown scorched parchment paper… all of those almonds glistening on top.

January is a tough month to come up with a creative dessert. It’s hard to follow Christmas, without doing Christmas. I didn’t want anything to chocolately-peppermint-Christmassy… but something sweet. Cheesecake was too pristine… so this combination of black berries/cobbler cheesecake was humble enough to offer just the right amount of coziness post-Christmas in dreary January. Do you know exactly what I mean?

I ended up messing up the original recipe, (I messed up on the part that said, “reserve” — I used it all up.) so I ended up with my own version, using the recipe for the world’s greatest crumble as the base… which was far better than what was printed in that magazine.

So, here’s the recipe:

• 1 3/4 cup of flour
• 1 1/2 cups of sugar
• 1 teaspoon sea salts
• 1 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes.
• 1 cup rolled oats
• 1 cup black raspberries… or berries of your choice, mixed with 1/2 cup sugar.
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1 package (8 ounces) cream cheese, softened1/4 CUP SUGAR
• 1 egg
• 1/2 cup slivered almonds

1. Preheat oven at 350 degrees F.
2. Mix flour, sugar and salt with a fork.
3. Using a fork, or pastry cutter, cut butter into flour mixture until it resembles coarse bread crumbs.
4. Add oats, stirring them into the mixture.
5. Reserve!!!! Stop! Get out a measuring cup and reserve 1/4 – 1/2 of this mixture.
6. Pour the rest of the cobbler mixture into a spring-form pan… of if you don’t have one, like me, use a 9″ cake pan. Line that with parchment paper… but do not oil or butter the pan or the parchment paper. (It will burn.) (Go for the 9″ pan… because the parchment paper gives a beautiful “covering” to the cake.)
7. In a bowl, beat cream cheese and sugar for 1 minute. Add egg; beat just until combined. Spread over crust. Carefully top with berries. Top with almonds and reserved crumb mixture.
8. Bake for 50-60 minutes, or until center is set. Cool on a wire rack. Carefully run a knife around the edge of pan to loosen; remove sides of pan. Store in the refrigerator.

He’s fine. We thought he was having an acute appendicitis… which called for an overnight “Observation.” While there, he miraculously got better.  Thank goodness… no cutting involved.

The hospital has just undergone a major renovation… the rooms, were beautiful. Sadly beautiful, like a posh hotel. Which, is truly, such a tragedy, that we ever need such beautiful spaces to keep parents and kids so happy during a scary time in their lives. Our friend Seth, missed this renovation… and we missed him during our stay. He would have loved this room. (Except for not being able to eat.)

There was a huge board in the back of the room, full of silhouette pictures of frogs and prairie grass, with an adjustable lens. You could “pick” your color for the day to match your mood. Ours was always green. At night, this big board was your nightlight.

Snapped with phone

He figured out how to get to the bathroom on his own, jumping out of bed, unplugging the IV, and wheeling it with him to the bathroom… and adjusting the bed buttons so he could easily manuever in and out of the bed easily without tangling the cord.

“Mom, did you know that when you hold those buttons they keep going?”

“Yeah, honey, you have to let go once you get the bed where you want it to be … you stop pressing.”

“Yeah, but it keeps going.”

“Sure. Whatever.”

I left to get some tea. I was probably gone 2.5 minutes tops. He was calmly in his bed, searching for a movie on his “personal laptop” the hotel hospital provided.

A few hours after we returned home, I overhead him telling his older brother this:

“…so, when you keep pressing the button, it keeps going. So, when mom left to get her tea, I kept holding the button until my legs were straight up in the air… just like Curious George when he broke his leg!” Then, laughter.

The least he could have done was to let me see so I could have snapped a picture.

I could not fathom how people could celebrate Christmas, full of the same expectation and joy that accompanies Advent, after Christmas. Some families, because relatives live out of state or travel or work constraints, decide to celebrate Christmas post-holidays — and hearing about those gatherings, I expected those celebrations to have a gray cast over them… full of the post-holiday bleakness that accompany stale cookies, broken candy canes, and the blah of January.

Yet, Christmas, can somehow overcome those constraints, no matter what the date, shinning just as brightly as December 24 — even in dreary January.  This was the first chance we had to celebrate Christmas at the lake.

Santa had already left behind our decorated mini tree, fully decorated with our “lake” ornaments and presents. (Chicago trip– without the kids.)

Along with presents, Santa added to our collection of lake-friendly animal ornaments.

I have no idea what that Elephant is doing there… there are no elephants at the lake, but I’m sure our boys know something about that.

There was enough snow to make a giant snowman,

And a mini smaller one who wore a hat:

The snow lasted “just long enough”  for sledding.

Not bad for a bleak January Christmas.