
We all have treasures buried under the rubble of our hearts and homes. A lifetime of searching may only be “one box away”.
Living a Not so Ordinary Life , in a Not so Ordinary World
When was the last time someone said to you, “Drop me a line”?
When was the last time you got a simple handwritten note or letter in the mail?
Heck, in the past few years it really has become a vintage activity. Recycle, Reuse is the mantra of the days and I too find it very hard to spend money on things people will just toss out after a few days or weeks. I decided to purchase and send cards that are unique and/or frameable quill art, popular artist prints or paper pop-ups. I personally love paper art and will use left over wrapping paper and cards to make decorations or incorporate into my mixed media art. Paper chains, ornaments, bunting banners, making homemade paper all are great reusable ways to recycle.
As a practicing minimalist, I like to keep a narrow threshold of materialistic things from entering my personal space. Taking me less than 30 minutes this morning, I cleaned my home and do not regret my decision to keep things minimal after owning and caring for a 5-bedroom, home, rentals, and large yard for almost 30 years.
I enjoy the freedom it brings to my life. Technology has been a great way to keep the paper clutter to a minimal and I find myself frustrated at times when I receive unnecessary junk mail. Even more annoyed with political organizations and credit card approval mail. It makes a quick trip to the shredder, much like the spam and overly abundance of ads in my email accounts. I refuse to pay subscription fees to abolish them, since frugality is my strong suit.
It pains me, that even in a more paperless society, we still have so much waste in paper products. Have you ever watched a movie where someone comes across some old box or trunk tucked away in a dusty old attic somewhere?
The actor/actress will gingerly open the treasured box or trunk and sort through the items until they come across a letter or weathered papers. Maybe they find a bunch of letters that have been bound together with a tattered old string, much like presents for the finders to read with muse.
Were they from a lover, a friend, a spouse, a war hero, someone who has passed?
Handwritten letters and notes are a tangible extension of the writer. We try to imagine them as they sat and wrote them. Were they happy, sad, joyful or hopeful? Was their handwriting representative of textbook cursive, printed block letters or swirly and whimsical? Do the stamps on the envelopes have some cultural story of the day and times or hobby/interest of the writer?
I have letters on military stationary from my first husband which he wrote to me while in the Army. I own notes from an athletic boyfriend that are folded in tiny footballs, that he punted to me with a finger flick behind the teachers back across the classroom that landed into my lap. I have “I love you, Mom” notes and cards from my children written in preschool and school age scribbles. Jokes written in my Dad’s whimsical handwriting inside cards.
When I downsized, I had to decide what to keep and not keep. I could of easily scanned all those notes, cards and letters and kept them handy on a flash drive. However, my enduring love for nostalgia and sentimental “feels” I chose to keep a few that hold very significant meanings that would someday be treasured in their original form. “I hope”.
Today, I was cleaning and decided to sort through any unnecessary clutter. Which for some reason seems to have a way of accumulating even with practicing strict minimalism practices. I came across these beautiful note cards that were done by my 5-year old, grand-daughter.
Signed on the back by her as the Artist and her Age at the time. This was a wonderful and thoughtful fundraiser gift idea done by her play center and printed by www.kidsartworks.co.nz.
I have decided that it was time to sit down and “drop a line”. If you are fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of this particular card, maybe you will be less likely to add it to the rubbish bin and reuse or recycle it. You never know, the artist may be the next Jackson Pollack.
In 2018, I completely downsized from a 5-bedroom, 3000 sq. ft. home and multi-income property to 200 sq. ft. of living space. This space once was part of a small efficiency apartment and our family business office, then converted to a one-room school room during my children’s homeschooling years and later became my art studio. Now, it is the home of my daughter and son-in-law’s ice cream shop “17 Scoops”.
For 2 years, this little space was my co-housing/co-living “Gma (Grandma) Pod, that I shared with my daughter and her family. As a baby boomer and grandma, I was able to spend more time creating in my art studio, writing my blog, traveling for fun and less time working on the road as a travel nurse.
I shared some living area necessities like a basement bathroom, laundry area, and running water but I also had my own entrance and lived independently.
I enjoyed the companionship and security of their presence while spending more time with my two grandsons.
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Once upon a time, as a travel nurse I spent a lot of time being a tourist and living out of Rubbermaid containers 8-10 months out of the year. I was always in search of amazing regional food, local & cultural activities and making new friends. However, living this “Rock Star” existence would soon take a turn that I, nor the World would ever think would happen in our lifetime.
When I was traveling, not only did I try to immerse myself in the region, culture, art and cuisine of the local area but I spent a fair amount of time advancing my skills as a baker taking classes that were significant to the locale. Then the real joy was re-creating and sharing my new artisan experiences and skills with co-workers, family and friends. Food has a unique language all its own and it provides a common ground that people can enjoy and relate to.
I would drag my hand-written recipes in two robin egg colored index card boxes with me on the road everywhere. “Oh, what are those, you say? I’ll explain later”… but it’s something that us “old broads” used before Pinterest, Tasty and All Recipes came along. Staying healthy and fit as a travel nurse was challenging but the real challenge was when you’re constantly fighting menopausal changes, genetics and the burning desire to eat every damn sweet thing available in a 25-100-mile radius. Under Recipe Box you will find healthy recipes and some that are bad as hell for the waste-line and for that reason I will rate them (Very Good, Good, and Oh shit, Hide the Scale!).
In 2018, I completely embarked on a minimalist lifestyle and took a six-month unpaid sabbatical from Travel nursing to relearn self-care along with a lil’ sprinkle of fairy dust called “self-love” and rekindled my passions for baking, writing and art.
Then, the “Vid” storm arrived…”sigh“…all bets were off. I returned to nursing, in a near-by town to fight the fight. I worked 50-plus hour work weeks with exhaustion, depression and a bit of PTSD. I struggled with the decisions of others, I cried with families and patients, and I was angered with the insanity that daily unfolded in American and the World. I stayed away from family to keep them safe and my scrubs became my fatigues, as I fought an enemy I could not see. I ate a lot of donated pizza and gained 20 pounds.
Fast forward 2 years later, the Spring of 2022. I decided to take another sabbatical from my nursing career to heal my body and soul. My final take away from all the death and sad human experiences of the last 2 years only cemented my already known knowledge that I needed to focus more on my passions and talents. After a few weeks of licking my war wounds, boredom set in. I immediately sprung into action; started my home-bakery Thunder Moon Bakery and my passion for life returned. I am slowly healing with healthier ways to deal with the physical and psychological stressors that I encountered working in the healthcare environment for almost 20 years and moving towards doing my dream.
Meanwhile, I will be dusting off the cobwebs on all the big white binders and assorted notebooks on my desk and revisit my writings. I will share some of the shenanigans rolling around in my head; humoring the thought that I have a small ounce of writing talent. My Grandma’s, Gma pronounced ( Jee- ma) was intrumental in teaching me, to live my dreams no matter what others “think“, “feel” or “want” me to do. Maybe writing a book is in the near future, who knows?
“Sometimes, when I’m driving down the highway with thousands of miles between destinations, I can still picture her next to me in that huge, hard top 1959 Ford, as she drove us to the lake cottage. All the windows down, and her hair tightly wrapped in a colorful scarf all “Hollywood Style”, eyebrows painted on, barely visible above her eye glasses. She turns and smiles at me, her “baker hands” tightly gripping the wheel as we flew down the highway while the sweet smell of freshly mowed hay fields filled the swirling air around us“.
It’s the simple pleasure of the journey; no matter how long the road may be to your destination. We all have our own path and those we meet along the way ultimately help shape our final destination.
Do Your Dream! What ever that may be.
I hope you enjoy my Blog about My Travel, My Life, My Art, My Food. I will have a lot of pretty cool pictures, fun and heartwarming stories, self-discovery tips, and recipes you can try. So, as long as it takes you to drink your morning coffee, eat your lunch, sneak precious quiet time during the kid’s or hubby’s nap-time, trying to stay calm while waiting in line at the DMV or just killing time on the shitter. I will be here.
Thank you for visiting and if you like what you read or want to read and learn more? Then don’t forget to subscribe before you go. You will be notified whenever I post something new on my site. Like and share me on Facebook. Look me up on Pinterest and Instagram. You have something you would like to share with me? Drop me a comment. Remember I don’t do bad attitudes and let’s keep it PG-13. Peace
It’s been a while since I posted anything lately. Not that I haven’t had anything to say. I simply find myself speechless by the state of our country these past 6 months. My fingers can type the words to express my feelings but my smiles have been few and far between.
A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to visit a joyful sunflower farm in Eastern Wisconsin. It was a very typical hot, humid and sunny day in August. I kicked the dust up with my flip flops, as I weaved my way along a maze of well worn, dirt paths through the towering sunflowers. Sharing the space with a plethora of bumble bees and small children buzzing in all directions.
I felt a bit like Alice in Wonderland, falling down a rabbit hole, escaping reality and shrinking into a more magical world of childhood innocence. I felt my soul lighten as I came upon “Sally Sunshine the Sunflower”. There was no name plaque or signage naming her. I felt it was my duty to give her a name as she stood patiently smiling down at me in the little kingdom of yellow flowers.
How infectious her smile must be to everyone, I thought to myself…
We all could benefit from seeing a few more smiles today. Such a simple, instinctive human expression a person can share or witness. But now we are encouraged to smile more with our eyes since our faces are hidden under masks. Thank goodness, my age and menopausal crows feet are developing nicely.
So, let’s all convey an infectious smile under those masks! Raise an eyebrow or two, twinkle your eyes (that is if you’re a Kris Kringle), avoid botox. Embrace your wrinkled crows feet. Hey…who knows, there might just be a new cosmetic surgery on the horizon for those who need to enhance those little corner of the eye indentations. I think I will name it “crowsfeetoplasty”. Just remember you heard it here first. (smile).
Thank you for visiting and if you like what you read or want to read and learn more? Then don’t forget to subscribe before you go. You will be notified whenever I post something new on my site. Like and share me on Facebook. Look me up on Pinterest and Instagram. You have something you would like to share with me? Drop me a comment. Remember I don’t do bad attitudes and let’s keep it PG-13. Peace.
Namaste’
Replace the hummus in my Middle Eastern Vegetarian Wrap recipe for a meat lovers version and you will have a wonderful smoky Grilled Chicken Shawarma Wrap that will having everyone asking for more!
As a nature lover and foodie fanatic, I have a great respect and love for foraging for wild edibles.
I grew up on wild mushrooms, asparagus, berries, vintages of elderberry and dandelion wines, all of which were gathered and prepared by master foragers.
When my children were young, I would pay them one penny for every dandelion blossom, to rid my yard of the so called “weed”. I then would make dandelion jelly from the tender blossom petals, referred to as dandelion honey for it’s sweet honey like taste…that is, if you have the right recipe. Why would I know this? Because it was the 1990’s and I had no internet, computer nor access to social media services like Pinterest. I lived in a small Midwestern town, far away from the cool, hip organic communities of the East and West Coasts, so our town library only had a handful of herbal and forging recipe books for reference.
Often the children and I would head to the forest for hikes and we would gather wild berries for jams and jellies. Sometimes we would find teaberry, and the children would chew the stiff, waxy leaves, sampling the cool refreshing taste of wintergreen.
When working in New Hampshire, I bought foraged wild ramps, also known as wild garlic from a local farmer’s market and learned how to make wild ramp pesto. I froze leftovers in ice cube trays since I was told the picking season was very short. I found fiddlehead ferns packaged in clear bags at the grocery store that I took home cleaned well, sauteed in butter and garlic, surprised how much they tasted like asparagus.
Wild asparagus patches around the homestead is still watched carefully by other neighbors and sometimes picked in the middle of the night before others can get to them.
Foraging skills use to be a way of life and every day our land is being flashed forested, bulldozed for more housing and concrete jungles. So, if you find yourself out hiking more these days and appreciating what mother nature provides us. Why not learn more about how to grow or forage to make some very delicious recipes much like my Edible Flowered Chèvre.
Identify the flower or plant exactly and eat only the edible parts of the flower or parts.
Use flowers sparingly in your recipes as they may cause digestive complications.
Great for Garden Parties, Spring or Summer Picnics, or a Simple and Easy Appetizer served with your best bottle of wine!
Thank you for visiting and if you like what you read or want to read and learn more? Then don’t forget to subscribe before you go. You will be notified whenever I post something new on my site. Like and share me on Facebook. Look me up on Pinterest and Instagram. You have something you would like to share with me? Drop me a comment. Remember I don’t do bad attitudes and let’s keep it PG-13. Peace
“All you need is faith, trust and a little pixie dust.” – J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
I stood at the edge of the green, mossy path looking in at the covered cove of evergreens. The princess pines blanketed the forest floor, hiding the little curled faces of the fiddleheads of fern, peeking up through the needle covered earth, which still held the dew from the early morning frost.
The tangled limbs of the newly budding deciduous trees were dancing and clanking as the whistling wind blew through them. I drew in a deep breath of the sweet, earthy smell of the dirt below my feet as it filled my nostrils.
With a breathy sigh, I thought to myself, “Ahhh… I have missed you my dear forest friend.”
The past winter had been mild compared to other snowy and blustery years. The dirt road that lead to the trail path had healed nicely from the winter thaw and was passable with few ruts and unpredictable muddy potholes. I felt an internal sense of peace and gratefulness, for the opportunity to live far away from the overly-crowded communities of high-rise apartments and cityscapes, as the maddening rampage of the “virus” was stealing lives, like a thief in the night.
The heavily, wooded trail weaved past noisy marsh ponds as the chorus frogs filled the airwaves with their mating song and the matted, brown grass of the meadow, warming itself in the sun, as it seemed to play a game of hide-n-seek amongst the clouds. I shrugged off a small shiver. My exposed skin absorbed the heat of the sun and the cool dampness of the forest left my bones. A smile started forming on my molded, eternally saddened face and for the first time in months, I felt a tiny twinge of glimmering hope filled with happiness and peace.
My thoughts wandered jubilantly with the promise of new beginnings. Knowing soon, that the beauty of woodland flowers would appear, like the purple, blue and white petaled wood violets, yellow buttercups, and the brilliant white tri-petal trilliums. Each Spring, the forest floors, roadsides, parks, and banks of native streams and lakes would be blessed with the welcoming sense of rebirth of their hardy, native wildflowers and plants, no matter how mild or harsh the winter season may have been.
As a child, I would walk barefoot and carefree on muddy and grassy knoll paths near my home, playfully uncovering the new growth of wonderment, gathering nature’s treasures of the forest and meadows, and making fairy houses for magical creatures I imagined would inhabit them later.
This particular day, I felt an emptiness that was left behind from my innocent childhood years. The simple beauty, sound and smell of the forest seemed to flood my mind with memories that tugged strongly at my heart strings. I yearned to return, once more, to that time when my child-like self was able to keep a creeping sense of gloom and doom from surrounding me from a distance.
The late morning air lightened, as the sun glowed an angelic, heavenly ray of sunshine through the forest trees. The narrow trail straightened, became wider and I could see in the distance, a small rocky outcrop of dirt that seemed to draw my curiosity and attention. I quickened my bouncy cadence up the trail when something unusual, abruptly caught my eye. It was a small structure made of twigs, moss, birch bark, pine cones and small rocks slightly tucked under a bed of princess pines.
“Fairy House!” , I softly whispered under my breath.
Call it a coinkydink, happenstance or pure serendipity, but I believed my morning’s journey and heavy soul searching may have manifested this magical quantum leap from childhood to adulthood.
I explored the details of the maker’s handy work while pondering its existence. Was it made by a playful child, teenager, or adult? How long had it been there? What inspired the creation? So many questions ran through my mind, as I started to form my own story line and conclusions. Time seemed irrelevant and my imagination became another social media share with one quick click of my smartphones’s camera shutter.
With faith and trust and a little pixie dust, I walked away hesitantly, trying to assure myself that others would treasure and not destroy this little, magical fairy house, that had captured the innocence and fragility of mother nature’s surroundings.
Returning home, I had a renewed sense of belonging and connectivity to the universe. I reminded myself to never forget the world I left behind. My memories will guide me through life and the truth of my future will always be found in the keys of my past.
Namaste’
Thank you for visiting and if you like what you read or want to read and learn more? Then don’t forget to subscribe before you go. You will be notified whenever I post something new on my site. Like and share me on Facebook. Look me up on Pinterest and Instagram. You have something you would like to share with me? Drop me a comment. Remember I don’t do bad attitudes and let’s keep it PG-13. Peace
Are you craving comfort foods like crazy, right now, but want to eat something that won’t put weight on while self-distancing and “staying safer at home” during the Novel Coronavirus Pandemic?
Then this nutrient rich casserole is a great way of boosting your immune system with a beautiful array of rainbow-colored veggies and a few simple ingredients that you probably have hanging out in your freezer, refrigerator and/or pantry right now.
A BRIEF LITTLE HISTORY LESSON
Did you know Shepard’s pie originated in Britain in the mid-1800’s as an affordable way to use up all the leftover cooked meat and originally had a crust made of potatoes that were plentiful to the pheasants? Or, that is was once called the “cottage pie” and made with lamb meat? Many of the impoverished lived in humble homes called cottages and lowly shepherds look after sheep. Hence, the name Shepard’s Pie.
Yes, this a very brief summary and there is a lot more you could learn about the history of the Shepard’s Pie. But I hope I piqued your interest and you will look up more interesting facts of it’s origin and the different versions. Remember, this can spark some interesting dinner conversation with the kiddo’s around the family table.
I use garlic mashed cauliflower to replace potatoes to keep it lower in carbs and calories. I find this casserole a great way of not wasting all those little leftovers from meals throughout the week while re-creating something purely delicious that even the “pickiest eaters” and “leftover haters” will enjoy. Not to mention being frugal to help stretch the household budget without sacrificing flavor.
So, let the casserole revolution begin!! Can you imagine the possibilities?!
Call your parents, call your grandparents if you are still lucky to have them. Tell them you love’um. Ask if there were any favorite casserole dishes they use to make or eat when growing up. Write the recipe(s) down and then think of ways you could adapt them with healthier ingredients. Or have a “Pantry Challenge” and create your own casserole recipe just as if you were a participant on Food Network’s cooking show Chopped.
This recipe is very adaptable for anyone practicing Vegetarianism or Veganism and I will provide suggestions at the end of the recipe in the notes section on how you can make this wonderfully delicious casserole that will surely please you and/or family any night of the week.
Stay safe and healthy everyone!