Tender Trappings in Tiny Totes: Use Your Words

 

 

Today’s post is a monthly writing challenge. If you’re new here, this is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once. All of the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the recipient will take them. Until now.

At the end of this post you’ll find links to the other blogs featuring this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they got and how they used them.
I'm using:  tote full of kittens ~ scale ~ towels ~ pictures ~ toilet paper
They were submitted by Sarah of The Crazy Mama Llama.

                          

I told Sarah, I think I tell her every time as a matter of fact, that I always love when her word prompts for this challenge come in, they make me laugh. What I don't tell her is that I also, in my head, hear Mr. T saying "I pity the fool . . ." Because her words are really fun and funny, but they're also challenging (which, I suppose, is the whole point of a writing challenge). But tote full of kittens? Really? Smh, what the hell am I going to do with that? 

 

I guess we're both about to find out.

Lillian was actually middle aged, but knew she looked much older that day as she walked out of the grocery store. Grief will do that to you, tear at your looks. She didn't care. She used to pride herself in her appearance. All the pictures around her home bore witness. Stylishly cut hair, long curly lashes, a hint of blush and lipstick, matching purse and shoes. Not any more. It was all meaningless now. Everything was meaningless now.

Truth is, the only reason she was food shopping is because she'd given away all the "well meaning" casseroles. It's not like she could eat a whole one herself, and she refused all attempts to join her, to engage her in any way. She wasn't ready. Wasn't ready to talk, wasn't ready to be around people whose lives still had joy in them. She probably never would be. Jonathan had been the love of her life and he was gone. In a split second. Heart attack.

So here she was, buying, she thought, foods for one. Sustenance, nothing more. Looking down at the cart she was pushing out the supermarket door she saw a few bags, but honestly had no idea what she'd just purchased.

She looked up from her cart just in time, she'd almost bumped right into him. He seemed to have appeared right in front of her from nowhere, this strange little cherub looking man, carrying some kind of tote. As she stopped short, he reached into his bag and brought out a kitten. "Last one," he said, looking at her. 

 

 

"No," she wasn't trying to be harsh, she just wanted to be left alone, get home. "Actually, I'm a dog person," she lamely added. "That's OK," he calmly told her, "the kitten won't mind." "No," she repeated, but as she maneuvered her cart around him, he gently placed the kitten inside and began walking away. "NO," she yelled this time, not caring about harsh. She started to chase him but she was pushing a cart full of food, bouncing and scaring the kitten.

 

Furious, Lillian removed some towels she had in her trunk, loaded the groceries inside, then settled the kitten on the towels in her front seat. As soon as she put the perishables in the fridge and freezer, she'd have to go to the animal shelter and drop off the kitten. She couldn't even take care of herself right now.

She placed the towels with the kitten inside on the floor of her kitchen and got the groceries onto the counter but that was as far as she got. She lost it, eased herself to the floor and sobbed. And sobbed. And sobbed. Nothing new, she was doing that a lot lately.

What actually was new was the kitten curled up in her lap when she stopped. A kitten she'd been petting, it seemed. And the purring appears to be what had finally calmed her.

Lillian wasn't sure at what point she'd decided to keep Val. Maybe when she finally gave in and named her, or maybe even, subconsciously, that very first day. But at some point she visited a vet and bought some essentials, so despite not knowing when, it was clear that she had.

It wasn't easy, the adjustment, but Lillian soon realized that even the curtains she had to rehang and the toilet paper she had to re-roll served a purpose. Each minute she dealt with a mischievous kitten was one that she was concentrated on something besides being locked in grief. 

 

It was a long process, months and months, but she even eventually even started to cook again. For the first time in a long time, she stepped on the scale and the numbers had stopped going down.

 

Orange Chili Shrimp 

 

Grief is fluid, it comes in waves. Val was just the company she needed, no longer feeling so alone in the house, but even considering being around people again remained unthinkable. She would still sink to the floor and sob now and then without any warning.

But the day came. Close to a year after she'd lost Jonathan, and after considering it for months, she'd decided to join a widow/widowers' grief group. Not join, she told herself, just try it. Once. For so long she'd hated the word widow, cringed when it even crossed her mind, knew she did not have the strength to hear others' stories similar to hers, felt she had nothing to offer them, fought against being one of them. But she was. And she knew it. Now she'd face it. She would go.

 

The meetings were held once a month at the local community center. She stopped just outside the door, took a deep breath, and walked into the room. With a tote full of kittens. Maybe she had something to offer them after all.

Wishing you all a Valentine's Day full of love, in any and all of its forms.

Here are links to all the other Use Your Words posts:

On the Border 

Wandering Web Designer 

Part-time Working Hockey Mom 

Climaxed 

The Crazy Mama Llama 

Orange Chili Shrimp        

                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

 
Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

1/2 cup Thai Sweet Chili Sauce

1/4 cup orange marmalade

2 TBSP orange juice

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/8 tsp dried red chili flakes

2# large shrimp, peeled and deveined

1 green onion, sliced

2 TBSP toasted sesame seeds

Directions:
*Whisk together the Thai Sweet Chili Sauce, orange marmalade, orange juice, minced garlic and red chili flakes. Set aside.

*Spray a large skillet with non stick cooking spray. Heat to medium. Add the shrimp. Cook the shrimp completely, until they are pink and no longer translucent. Drain.

 *Stir the sauce into the pan with the shrimp. Cook for 7 - 8 minutes, stirring now and then so all the shrimp is completely coated.

*Sprinkle with sliced green onion and toasted sesame seeds for serving.

It's Getting There: Vacation Poetry

 

  Join Poetry Monday here and there,

if my publishing schedule has room (that's rare).

Sometimes the topic's so compelling,

evokes a story that just needs telling.

 

Craziest Vacation Memory is the chosen theme,

we've all had situations that could just make you scream. 

Grateful to tell the story, of that there's no doubt.

Since Diane (and friends) have, well, yet to kick me out.

It's Getting There

Vacations are on hold these days,

In the past I've had quite a few.

Always with a traveling pal, 

local, long distance, international too.

 

Too many states to mention, 

and countries, way more than one.

Hong Kong, Indonesia, Korea for work,

Israel , England, and Mexico for fun.

 

Islands are best for vacations, 

love sitting in the sun.

Nantucket, Margarita, St. Lucia,

Hawaii (two islands, not one).

My vacations tend not to be crazy.

though parasailing was risky for sure.

mountain roads in St. Lucia, hair raising.

(next time we'd be smart, do a tour). 

Craziest part of vacations?

The travel, just let me tell you.

When you're at the mercy of airlines.

Can't quite get there when you are due.

It was just after Thanksgiving.

Stuffed with turkey and leftovers too.

Sis and I scheduled a vacation.

St. Croix beaches, we're coming to you.

 

 

 

Holiday Flavors Turkey Meatloaf

 

Off we went that day to the airport,

over packed as we both always do. 

One week away yet we both had,

not one overstuffed bag but two.

First they called for volunteer passengers,

willing to take the next flight.

Sis and I, we weren't born yesterday.

For our seats we'd damn near fight.

 

The plane was a "puddle jumper"

to the island, it fit very few.

Seats weren't the only issue, though,

cargo weight was limited too.

 

Stood our ground and we were boarded,

despite the airline's bribes and pleas,

Taxiing, knew we'd made it, 

could almost feel that tropical breeze.

 

Liftoff had us smiling,

then my sister's eyes got wide.

Laughing, pointed out the window.

At my luggage, sitting outside.

 

It's true, I could have cried right then,

it's possible I may have swore.

With tears looked out the window.

You know, just to be sure.

"Don't laugh sis, you're about to,

feel just as sad and blue.

Seems my bags are in good company.

Right behind them . . . there's yours too!" 

 

Wait!

Read more poetry, 

you're not through.

Some talented writers

are in this crew:

 

On the Border

Messymimi's Meanderings 

Mother Owl 

Holiday Flavors Turkey Meatloaf     

                                                              ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

1 1/2 cups mashed potatoes

1/2 tsp minced garlic

1 green onion, chopped

1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese

2 TBSP butter or butter substitute, melted

salt and pepper to taste

paprika

1 cup cornbread stuffing mix

2 1/2# lean ground turkey

1 cup turkey gravy, divided

2 eggs

1 green onion, chopped

1/3 cup red pepper, chopped

1/3 cup cranraisins, coarsely chopped

1/2 tsp poultry seasoning

1/2 tsp garlic powder

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

Directions:

*Make mashed potatoes and mix in the minced garlic, 1 chopped green onion, parmesan, melted butter, and salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.

*Cover a 9 X 13 baking pan in tin foil. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

*In a large bowl, place the stuffing mix, turkey, 1/4 cup of the gravy, eggs, the remaining green onion, red pepper, cranraisins, poultry seasoning, garlic powder, 1/2 tsp salt, and 1/4 tsp pepper. Mix just until incorporated, don't over mix.

*Form the turkey meatloaf into a brick shape (approximately 9 inches long, 5 inches wide and 2 inches high) and place into the prepared pan leaving about 3 inches around all of the sides. Bake for 45 minutes.

*After 45 minutes, take the meatloaf out of the oven but leave the oven on. Spread the mashed potatoes onto the top and around the sides of the meatloaf. Sprinkle with paprika.

*Return to the oven for 20 minutes. Take out and check to be sure the meat is completely cooked through. Let stand for 5 minutes before slicing. Serve with the remaining gravy (heated).

Ifs, Ands, or Buts, Just Because: Secret Subject Swap

 

Welcome a Secret Subject Swap. This month 5 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts. Read through mine and at the bottom you’ll find links to all of today’s other Secret Subject participants.

 

 

My subject is: Tell us something that we don't know about you. 

It was submitted by: Rena of Wandering Web Designer.

 

 

 

You'd think this would be a very easy prompt to speak to. You'd be wrong. 

Here's the thing: I've been blogging for a long time now. Perhaps you know that. If you've been along with me for the ride, I thank you. But you also know quite a lot about me. When I started blogging, my youngest was in middle school, both of my sons are now adults. You've been through a lot with me over the years when it comes to the boys, from College Boy's stitches between the eyes and setting my car on fire to PurDude breaking his leg while 10 hours away. You've seen me honor College Boy on his 18th birthday, and when PurDude turned 21, and I took you on a tour of PurDude's first home, which I furnished and decorated in one weekend. 

Through the years you've supported me through yearly remembrances of the loss of my brother to cancer, to the more recent losses of my father to Alzheimer's, my former step-sister's suicide, to flying home for my mom's surgery, and my own excruciating three months long boxing match with shingles.

I've not been shy about sharing my thoughts on my infertility and loss, how I value friendships, but take no crap. I'm an open book on the topics of marriage in general, and about gay marriage, about religion, about politics, about race, life lessons and being a work in progress, and even about visits from beyond. I've traveled extensively, had two diverse careers, as Director of Social Services and a Retail Buyer, and shared that neither of which used my organizational skills, negotiating skills or stamina as much as being a parent.

I've been so grateful to have you follow me around the interwebs as I've been published all over the place from friends' blogs, to websites like BluntMoms, Mamapedia and Scary Mommy to national sites like TODAY Parents, the Daily Meal, and Huffington Post, and in multiple book anthologies.

And, of course, you know I use recipe development to exercise my brain, stave off anxiety, and express my (admittedly very limited) creativity. And that I feel that sharing the results is incredibly gratifying, but most importantly an expression of love.

Mocha Vanilla Coffee Bombs

My point is that pretty much everything I've been willing to share, I already have. Which leaves what? My shoe size (7), my height (5 feet), my weight (not the 102 I used to weigh), my hair (curly), and my lashes (long). But I suppose those aren't the kind of bland facts you were looking for me to divulge, are they? The intent of this prompt, I'm sure, is that I tell you something more consequential. 

 

Which basically leaves, to my deep chagrin, something I've chosen not to share.

Confession time, right? OK.

 

I often don't like to cook. If I have a new recipe in mind, it's fun to try it out. But on days when I don't and I just have to make dinner . . . not my idea of fun, more like a chore.

I don't like blogging trends. I've never said this before because I didn't want anyone to feel attacked, but I remember when it was all the rage for mom bloggers to call their kids "assholes." And although it was semi in jest, a sharp way to make a point, it was always just in poor taste to me. I'm hyper-vigilant about the fact that whatever I put out there stays out there. I have a blog post that's been in my drafts since I started blogging. It's about something that cut me to the core, ripped me to shreds, broke me. The story isn't all mine though, and despite having permission to post it, I don't because I'm so afraid that either I or, even worse, the other person, may want to take it back at some point. Maybe some day I'll press "publish," but 9 years later, not yet.

I'm a rule follower. I've learned to embrace spelling and punctuation errors, lessons of the past sacrificed to texting, and grammar rules sacrificed to a more conversational writing style. Not complaining, I like it. I even start sentences with "and," "but," and "because" now, although I can't shake the feeling that it's wrong. But (see that) I cannot deal with apostrophe errors, that's where I draw the line. Turning a plural into a possessive isn't about shortening words in a text, it's about not understanding the difference, which is actually a simple concept. If there is a meme that I absolutely love, think is hysterical or prophetic or whatever, if there is an errant apostrophe in it, I won't share it, I just can't.

 

You notice I didn't call myself the "grammar Nazi," although I fit the criteria according to the pop culture definition.

 

That's because I cannot stand the common use of the title Nazi, it makes me cringe. I believe that when you start normalizing a term like Nazi, use it to describe any transgression, you diminish the level of horror that label does, and should, convey. It's grossly disrespectful not only the 6 million who suffered unthinkable torture then died horrific deaths, but to the scar it left on history. I used the term once about 5 years ago in a post on my FB page about the parallels between Hitler and trump (I deliberately don't capitalize his name as a symbol of disrespect), an appropriate analogy, if I do say so myself. trump's reign of terror and attempted coup proved my point. If we are to abhor this magnitude of depravity, never forget both the atrocities and the level of complicity of the cult-like masses, we must not muddy it. No ifs, ands, or buts, it's a moral obligation that the title Nazi only be used in the most egregious, inhumane circumstances where those devoid of morals and values and humanity itself seize power. Like Hitler. And trump.  

Oh, and one more thing I think it's important to tell you right now. There are things I am, and there are things I'm not. I'm exceedingly organized, my home is neater than it is clean, I'm a micromanager, I can get lost in a soap box moment (see above), but I'm not, I swear to you I'm definitely not, anywhere near as self-absorbed as the first half of this blog post makes me sound.

Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

Wandering Web Designer 

Part-time Working Hockey Mom 

Climaxed 

The Crazy Mama Llama

Mocha Vanilla Coffee Bombs       

                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients (makes 5):  

1/4 cup Nutella

2 TBSP hot cocoa mix

2 TBSP French vanilla flavored powdered coffee creamer

1 oz red candy melts

1 oz white almond bark

1 TBSP red colored sugar

 

hot brewed coffee

 

Directions:
*Place a piece of parchment paper or wax paper into the freezer.

*Mix together the Nutella, hot cocoa mix, and French vanilla creamer. Using wet hands, form into 5 balls, and place on the parchment paper in the freezer for 1/2 hour.

*Melt the red candy melts and white almond bark in a shallow mug in the microwave at 15 second intervals until smooth when stirred.

*Remove the Nutella balls and parchment paper from the freezer. Place a Nutella ball into the melted bark, roll to coat, remove by placing a knife underneath, slide off the knife onto the parchment paper on the counter, and sprinkle with colored sugar. Repeat with remaining balls. Allow to set for 15 minutes. 

*To  serve, place one Mocha Vanilla Coffee Bomb into a mug. Pour hot brewed coffee into the mug and stir to melt the bomb and incorporate the flavors into the coffee.