The Green Thing, Cheap Sunglasses, and a Whole Lotta Frittata

Remember that antique I told you about in my last post, regarding "firsts"? I thought I would blog about it today, since it has recently taken permanent residency in my kitchen/dining area.

When I first spotted this beauty, I knew it belonged in my house. I thought, "It will be mine, oh yes, it will be mine." (*see additional Wayne's World reference later in this post). While I didn't intend to buy anything over 5 bucks that afternoon when my friend and I went out searching for garage sale treasures, I reminded myself that this predicament of Should I Buy It/Shouldn't I Buy It could be easily solved with an impromptu visit to the ATM. Note: Please do not follow my advice when it comes to spending money and/or shopping. Thank you.

The owners lovingly called it The Green Thing. I, potentially color blind and also biased towards anything that could hint at turquoise (my fave color) found the paint to be perfection, chips and imperfections included. I knew if I passed up this gem, I would always regret it, and maybe would occasionally shed a tear or two, staring at the bare space in my kitchen where The Green Thing could have lived. Sniff sniff.

Ok, I'm sure I would have moved on. But still! I HAD to have it!!!

How much I bought it for doesn't matter. I don't need to tell you about how one of the owners is a psychic, and probably already knew I would buy it when I walked into her yard. You probably don't want to hear about the gigantic Great Dane that these people have, and how it was so huge you could ride it like a horse...but his name is Baby! Or that we had to rent a flat bed truck at 7 am to go pick The Green Thing up, because it wouldn't fit in my husband's Jeep.

But what I WILL tell you is that I cleaned all the nooks and crannies with a toothbrush. I fixed (eh, sort of) the broken drawer pull, and gave one of the doors a new piece of glass. I washed it...twice...with soapy water and an old, white t-shirt. My grandma gave me all her beautiful china as my wedding gift, and I never had anywhere to put it...until now. All I know is that The Green Thing has magical powers to put a smile on your face when you see it...and for that, it will always be priceless to me.



And now, on to a different topic.

Wayne: So, do you come to Milwaukee often?
Alice Cooper: Well, I'm a regular visitor here, but Milwaukee has certainly had its share of visitors. The French missionaries and explorers began visiting here in the late 16th century. Pete: Hey, isn't "Milwaukee" an Indian name?
Alice Cooper: Yes, Pete, it is. In fact , it's pronounced "mill-e-wah-que" which is Algonquin for "the good land."
Wayne: I was not aware of that.

Wayne's World is one of my favorite movies. Of all time. I can not tell a lie.

My favorite pair of sunglasses broke on Friday, approx. 3 minutes before my sunny, 2 hour road trip to Milwaukee to go see ZZ Top and Tom Petty in concert. I am not making this up.

Now go out and get yourself some big black frames
With the glass so dark thay won't even know your name
And the choice is up to you cause they come in two classes:
Rhinestone shades or cheap sunglasses
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah


Coincidence, I think not! ZZ Top rocks in concert. Seriously.

I will close this post out with a recipe that I made up, after reading about how to make a frittata, which is basically the Italian version of an omelet. According to Giada on Everyday Italian. Man, she is so pretty and TINY for being a chef, don't you think? Sorry, back on track. I will be making MANY variations of frittatas in the weeks to come, because A) I'm on a diet B) You virtually can not screw them up C) You can use pretty much anything in your fridge and/or pantry to create your own masterpiece. Note: I did not take a photo of the end product because we were real hungry and ate it up too quickly. I will perhaps take a pic when I try my hand at a Mexican Frittata this week!

This picture illustrates that you can fit A LOT of stuff in your skillet before even adding the egg, which allows for you to be very creative and play with different ingredients. You can add more or less of virtually anything, depending on your taste. By the way, I hate the cameras on cell phones, they take crappy pics like these! I will use my big girl camera next time.

Make This Tonight Frittata

Ingredients

• 7 eggs; I use 4 egg whites and 3 whole eggs
  
• 1/2-1 lb. asparagus


• 1 bag mushrooms, any variety


• 1 green pepper, diced


• 1 clove garlic, crushed


• 1/2 white onion, diced


• 1/2 red onion, diced


• 3 baby red-skinned potatoes, sliced finely


• 1/2 cup parm cheese


• 1/2 cup sour cream, half/half, or milk (whichever you have lying around!)


• 2-3 stems of fresh rosemary, finely chopped


• Olive Oil, as needed (follow prep instructions)

Preparation

Preheat oven to 375. Prep a deep dish, like a casserole dish, with cooking spray or olive oil to prevent sticking. Set this aside for later.

While the oven is heating up, smash and chop one clove of garlic and toss it into a skillet on med.-low heat with some olive oil. Heat until garlic starts to sizzle a bit, then remove garlic from the pan. Keep the oil in the pan because you will use that to heat up your veggies. Add your sliced potato and onion into the skillet, along with your rosemary. Cook on med. heat for about 8 minutes; make sure that potato isn't still raw. While that is heating, snap off the bottom of the asparagus stems (where they naturally break when you bend) and cut asparagus tips and stems into 2-3 inch pieces. By this time, you should be ready to throw the mushrooms and asparagus, along with the green pepper, into the skillet. Let everything cook nicely and blend well together.

While the veggies are getting well acquainted with each other, prep your eggs. I whisk mine in a large bowl with some sour cream, but you can sub whatever you wish. Make sure you blend well, and throw in some black pepper. Note that I use 4 egg whites because I am on a diet, but you can use 7 whole eggs if that tickles your fancy. There are no rules when it comes to the Kingdom of Frittata (well, at least not in my kitchen!). Now, I realize traditional frittatas call to put the skillet into the oven and under the broiler. However, I don't have an oven-safe skillet at the moment, so just know that any deep dish (preferably glass) will do the trick!

Transfer the cooked veggies from the skillet into your dish. Pat them down so everything is even on all sides. Then, pour your egg mixture in. It may feel odd if you've never made this before, but trust me! Stir the egg evenly in so that it reaches the bottom of the dish, and everything should be pretty much coated. Here's where the cheese comes in: sprinkle, with a heavy hand, the 1/2 cup of shredded parm cheese over the top of your veggie/egg mixture before sliding it into the oven.

My frittata took about 1/2 hour to cook all the way through, but I used a very deep dish. Make sure to keep an eye on it; a good way to check is to put a knife in the middle and if it pulls out clean, it's cooked through. Also, right as the dish is ready, the top sort of browns and bubbles and looks so yummy you can't wait to try it.

Enjoy!
xoxo -K

First Time for Everything

This past weekend was full of firsts.

On Friday, I held my friend's baby boy for the first time since my miscarriage. I was so nervous that I wouldn't feel right holding him...that I would feel sadness or envy or anxiety or all of the above. But when I looked at his darling face, all I saw was a little cherub, and all I felt was peace.

That afternoon, I also bought my first antique piece of furniture, from the first psychic I'd ever met, from the first garage sale I'd been to that didn't have just crap for sale. Ok, there was some crap...but it was good crap.

On Saturday, my husband and I met 3 of his cousins for the first time, from a side of his family that had essentially been forgotten. Long story behind that one. I sat directly across from said cousin's wife at the dinner table. She's 4 months pregnant. With twins. One boy and one girl, to be exact. Her long silver necklace danced off her perfectly prego belly. It was hard not to notice. I wasn't in the waiting room at the doctor's office where I could bury my nose in a magazine (although I tried to do that with my menu, but it only lasted an awkward 3 minutes or so). There she was, right in front of me. After some polite banter regarding their due date, etc., the cousin asked us, "So, do you guys have kids?"And there It was. The Dreaded Question. A moment so highly anticipated (not in a good way) that it caused me anxiety of epic proportions. I had really thought that when it came down to this, all I would be able to mutter were mere sentence fragments:
"Uh...kids, nope. Can I..the...uh...menu...hmmm...Caesar. Salad". Everyone else that was normally around us knew what had happened and wouldn't even bring it up. But how could I fault someone we'd never met, that had no clue? Instead of launching into a short bio of my life and/or inappropriate pig latinesque speak, hubby and I just smiled, with a "No kids yet, but definitely in the future!" Admittedly, those words stung like the time I had chicken pox, and no amount of Calamine lotion or Aveeno baths could provide any relief. I have a scar on my forehead to prove it. I had to scratch, I couldn't stop myself!

Ok maybe that's a little dramatic. It wasn't that bad.

Firsts, firsts, firsts.

They sometimes can be pretty rough, producing those stomach-churning feelings of anxiety. First day of work at a new job. First day of school. First date. First kiss. First time you miss your seat at a Cubs game and fall down, spilling your drink on the 3 guys sitting next to you, one of which is a guy you really like and have only known a few weeks (and would later turn out to be my husband). Wait...you mean that's never happened to you before? I guess some firsts aren't universal.

One thing that I do know to be true, for the most part, about firsts is this: There's only one of them. Once you get through whatever it is, it generally gets a bit easier. It's the unknown that can make us panic. But once we've lived it, there will never be a first for it again.

The first day with new coworkers turns into weeks of regular routine. The first day of school leads you to knowing the combination on your hallway locker so well that you couldn't forget it if you tried. First dates sometimes lead to a second and third, maybe a lifetime, maybe never again. You won't likely ever get chicken pox again after you've had them once. And in my case, if I ever fall down at a Cubs game again, I probably will just laugh. After all, it wouldn't be the first time.

xoxo
K

Message in a Bottle

I decided about a week ago that it would be a good idea to put my one (and only) ultrasound picture in a glass jar and send it out to sea...literally. Lucky for me, I had the perfect opportunity to do so when I was in Florida this past weekend, visiting my brother.

The thing is that I just didn't have the heart to throw the picture out in the trash, where the "Congrats, Mommy-To-Be!" cards ended up. It felt wrong. The thought of the photograph drifting in the ocean somehow made me feel peaceful. As if the baby would have made it, he or she would have been a great swimmer, an avid snorkeler, or a boating enthusiast. All things that I am not. Or maybe, he/she would have been a lover of the beach, the salty air, the sunshine. All things that I am.

The time came. I brought the "memorial" with me on the last day of our visit, knowing that it was the right moment to say goodbye to the last tangible memory I had of what could have been. The picture wasn't alone; I made sure to include a prayer card with the Virgin Mary and a note that read "IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN TO OCEAN"...which would of course be illegible by the time the water got in there and smeared everything...or it could end up soaked in BP oil...but it still made me feel better. I wrote a personal note on the back of the ultrasound photo, letting the little soul know that we would never forget and would always love. I combed the beach for the prettiest shells that would fit inside the jar, and topped it off with some sand. My brother and hubby added sand as well. It was a breaking bread moment for all of us. My obnoxious sunglasses covered up my teary farewell. Then, despite his fear of jellyfish and JAWS, my husband swam out far enough to make sure the memorial would drift away.

It was so dang hard to let go of that jar. To say goodbye. It was my own way of trying to make peace, trying to surrender to the fact that I had no control over what happened. It broke a part of my heart. But it also mended a piece, too.

I can't help but think of Message in a Bottle by The Police. It's one of my favorite songs.

Just a castaway. An island lost at sea.

Only hope can keep me together. Love can mend your life but love can break your heart.

Walked out this morning. Don't believe what I saw. A hundred billion bottles washed up on the shore. Seems I'm not alone at being alone. A hundred billion castaways looking for a home.

I'm sending out an S.O.S. to you, dear readers, wherever you are in the vast Sea of Blog. Remember that you aren't alone.

xoxo
K

Blog Design - Under Construction

In the random event that someone actually visits my blog today, just an FYI that I'm giving it a facelift...so things may look a little wacky til I get the color scheme, etc. all worked out!

Toodles,
K

Pot Luck

I survived last week's return to work (and perhaps attempted return to normalcy).

When I think of pot luck, I think of a party in which all invitees are told to bring their dish of choice. This type of freedom allows either disaster or bliss. If you've ever been to a gathering of this variety, you are familiar with the typical food spread. The possibilities are endless, but you're sure to find a few staples...ranging from the scrumptious and homemade to generic store-bought.

Most of my week was rather generic. There wasn't much thought, the packaging was dull, and I felt on clearance. Don't get me wrong, there was at least an improvement as the days passed. Tuesday and Wednesday admittedly started off as simple wafers. Vanilla. But by Friday, I had upgraded to the knock-off Oreos. I couldn't complain; at least there was some sugar in the mix.

There were highlights here and there. A laugh that felt natural and not forced was a made-from-scratch, heavenly berry cobbler with a scoop of ice cream.

As Week 2 of OPERATION: NORMALCY begins tomorrow, my fingers are crossed that the upcoming days bring some more sugar, some spice, and most importantly, a little nice.

-K

Back to Work

Today was my first day back to work since my miscarriage and D&C. I really didn't know what to expect; it was a bittersweet feeling to be back into my old routine.

On one hand, I could gain a sense of normalcy from the familiar regimen: Up at 6:30 AM, out the door at 7:30. Lunch from 12-1, which always includes blaring music on my headphones while...let's call her "The Cruncher"...loudly chomps on her carrot sticks. Seriously, it's all the woman eats. Another lunchtime tradition is my daily dodging of the janitor. She's classically nosey and lingers about 2 minutes too long after a conversation has already ended. I have learned this the hard way. I also think she stole my makeup mirror. Anyways, 4:30 PM rolls around in a blink, and I'm back in my car for the ride home. Today, everything was the same. I rolled into the shower on time. The Cruncher indulged in all her crunching glory. I pretended to be on the phone when the janitor stopped by. At 4:34 PM, I was turning onto the highway, headed home. It's nice to know that some things never change.

On the other hand, how can anything be normal right now? Just because I am going through the motions, my life and I have dramatically altered in a mere 9 weeks. No matter how familiar the daily grind might seem, nothing, not even time, can ever erase that little heartbeat that faded too soon.

Of course, throwing myself onto my bed in a crying fit when I came home from work wasn't going to change anything. Trust me, I contemplated it. Instead, I sang along to some random song on the radio, and found my zen in a couple pieces of chocolate I had stashed in the freezer. Worked like a charm.