Notes From the Cookie Jar

I Called Her Anne

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Sun, 19 May 2013 03:44:00 +0000

She's the first real best friend I ever had; the one who, even though she moved only a few years after we became close, letters kept us in touch. Summer visits, letter scrawled on lined 3 ring paper, swatches of prom dress material were pieces of our friendship in the days before Facebook and Twitter.

I squealed for joy when we became roommates for about six months in the big city after graduation and sobbed because my heart was broken when she had to move back home, hundreds of miles away.

She supported me when I married John, even though nobody else would and was the maid of honour at my wedding.

Kids, weddings, births, deaths, jobs, and life happened, and somehow, our communication waned. There was no fight or falling out at all, we just somehow got caught up in our own stuff and time to send letters became shorter and shorter. Visits were fewer and farther between.

Today we sat over steaming cups of coffee after ten years of not seeing each other, and it was like not a single day had passed. We picked up right where we left off, reminiscing about first loves, teenage drama and our city escapades. The best friends are those with whom you have a familiar rhythm. There is no question about your love or loyalty, and even though you both know you've been bad about keeping in touch, you wish each other well and know that no matter what happens, you ARE still friends. The conversation flowed effortlessly, just like when we were little kids..

..and then I called her Anne.

Long ago Anne had mentioned to me that she wanted me to move on once she passed, and I had explained that while I knew intellectually I would have more friends, nobody could take her place. She was special. There would be a giant, gaping hole to fill. That hole has, at times been almost physically painful as I've tried to wade through grief and loss the last seven months. While now not quite so raw, every now and then it creeps up on me and catches me by surprise.

When I called her Anne, we were laughing over coffee and she didn't even flinch. Her brown eyes just smiled back at me, and I knew. Whether 12 or 42, friendships like this are rare and special, never to be taken for granted. Anne taught me that. Why didn't I see it before? Why did I let life get in the way?

She has been there all along, for 30 amazing years.

All I needed was a reminder.

It's Never Just a Lockdown

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Thu, 16 May 2013 23:40:00 +0000

I was sitting in a classroom, my work day almost finished, marking math papers. She quietly stepped in the room and whispered about an 'emergency' call, and after I dropped my pen and immediately followed she turned to me and asked,

"You have an older son, right?"

Catch your breath, Karen. Don't panic. It's probably nothing. Still, I practically ran to the phone.

Kevin's voice on the other end sounded relaxed, and somewhat annoyed.

"There was a bomb threat, Mom. We've been in lockdown for a few hours. Just waiting for the police to give us the all clear. Don't pick me up, I'll walk home."

"No..wait, you're in lockdown? Let's meet down the road, then. I'm off in ten minutes. I'll come get you. And seriously, it's not really an emergency. You scared me to death. I thought you were at the hospital or something. You're fine-but thanks for calling me."

I find him at a fast food joint near his school and he spills the story once in the car. After lunch today, some message was apparently scrawled in the school about a bomb. They had been in lockdown since just after lunch, sitting in their classrooms, and just waiting for the police to check the school and give the all clear. Once the news sunk in, I could't believe my reaction. Not an emergency? What the hell was I thinking?

Kevin doesn't remember Columbine, but I do. I work in schools. The few days after seeing students run for their lives on TV, or Patrick Ireland pushing himself out a window and being caught by a SWAT team left me wondering; what do I do if there's a gunman at my workplace? How do I protect that defenseless child in a wheelchair? Do I haul them out of the chair under a table & throw myself on top? Do we run? Would we have time?

I spent the next few months scouting out every exit I could find. in fact, all these years later, I still look for the exits.

He doesn't know what it's like to try to hide twenty six year olds in a dark room during lock down practise and imagine what it's like to throw yourself in front of a gunman to protect other people's babies-not because it's your job, but because you really could not allow anything to happen to those precious little souls entrusted to your care. Their tiny wide eyes. Their innocence, and how hard it is to try to explain what we are doing without shattering it.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this to you. I can't even believe that we're having this conversation. I have never wanted to, but I'm going to tell you something. If you are in the hall, or the lunchroom, or a place near a door and there is an actual shooter in the building, you get the hell out. You don't hide in the library under a table unless there's nowhere to go. Go out a window if you must. When you get back there on Tuesday, I want you to scout out all the exits so you know where they are if you ever need to use them. Leave the laptop behind and just get the hell out of the building."

This is crazy. Why are we even having to discuss this? We should be talking about girls and parties and summer jobs, and instead we're discussing best survival strategies if a gunman invades the school. What the hell has become of our society?

"You know, I have an idea," I continue, "We need a code word. If a real disaster happened you may not be able to call. Let's have a code word. It will mean, "I'm safe & meet me at our designated place. All you have to do is text that word to my phone. I'll use it too."

Kevin nods. We talk about past school shootings, and he tells me only then that the supposed bomb was alleged to be right under his classroom.

"If it was real, we'd all be dead," he continued.

I don't even want to go there. It's too much.

There are lots of errands to run tonight-things that I need to get done. Important things only this morning, but now they seem ridiculous. Instead, once home I pull out M&M cookies and ice cream, smooshing them together into delicious sandwiches that we nibble at and then lick sweet melty ice cream off our fingers.

Errands can wait.

Today, I am enjoying being home with my son.

Love You Forever

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Sun, 12 May 2013 16:40:00 +0000

The little box of magnetic poetry was thrust into my hands last spring when Anne was cleaning out her house before she moved to Vancouver for cancer treatment. I had always liked the idea of magnetic words to play with-being a writer and word lover at heart, they seemed like a lot of fun.

I never really did have a chance to look at it for long. Soon we were in the throws of life and the box was put away and forgotten about. Words became fraught with frustration; every time I'd sit to write, I'd stare at the screen on my computer, and nothing would come.

The box stayed hidden away for months, forgotten, until the other day. I was rummaging around for something in a drawer when my fingers found the smooth plastic and I pulled it out, turning it over in my hands, and remembered that day when Anne smiled at me and said that she loved my words. She always loved my words. No matter how mundane, she would tell me what she thought of every post, answer every tweet, reply to every email. Every Friday tea ended with "I love you" and a hug.

Mother's Day is, for me, a day that causes a little angst. All the mushy, heart squishy accolades to perfect and wonderful mothers only makes me think more about the complicated relationships in my own family and how unfair it felt to lose Anne, who at times was Mom, sister, friend all rolled into one. You can try to avoid it, but still it creeps up on you little by little and this morning, I woke after a dream of having tea with her once more and needed a bit to collect myself.

My fingers hesitated before I dipped into the box of Anne's words and resolved to pull out five random magnets just for fun. The first four describe life perfectly, right now.

One last word to go. What will I pull out? I'm not normally one to do this, but before I reached back into the box, I paused and closed my eyes.

"Anne, give me the last word you want me to have, okay? Love you." my hand hovered before my fingers rested on a magnet and picked it up and opened my eyes.

Honestly, I couldn't help but smile.

Love you forever, too.

Sunday Awesome #3 & 4

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Sun, 05 May 2013 09:00:00 +0000

I really enjoy Sundays. John and I often sit on the couch until around noon, sipping coffee while he watches "Holmes on Homes" and I write on a laptop. I'm not really a TV person, but I don't mind listening while I type. In the afternoons we trek out into the Valley, often stopping at farms or going for a walk and then picking up coffee. I putter through the kitchen, baking cookies and getting things ready for the week.

These days, since John is home during the weekends, I tend to cook more while he's here and less while he's away. It seems backwards to me compared to how we used to do things, but it works. I actually forgot to post my awesome list last week, so THIS week you get TEN awesome things unlike the usual five.

Double the awesome! Awesome squared! Or something like that.

1. Planning a weekend getaway with friends

In the last year, I have learned to appreciate my friends so much more. I'm not able to go to Blogher or Blissdom this year and neither are some of my friends, so THIS has me ridiculously excited. I will be counting the days until our weekend for the next few months. Can I squee? Swanky hotel, really great food, and loads of friends? I'm so in.

2. Farm fresh honey

Yesterday we trekked out to Honeyview farm and picked up a jar of their blackberry blossom honey for toast, and then a little jar of garlic and ginger infused honey. I'm thinking it would be great in a dip or brushing over chicken. Farm fresh honey is really thick and delicious-probably the best I've ever tried.

3. No processed sugar zone

I'm not sure if this is really awesome, but I put myself on a 30 day no sugar challenge, starting today with my friend Alexis. I wanted to see if it's something I could do, because I know that sugar is the one habit I'm not sure I could break. I'm still allowed sugar in my coffee, but that's about it.

Ever try baking for a food blog and your family and not eating ANY? Me neither. This is going to be interesting. (by the way, the honey will be okay because it's natural and I barely eat honey anyway)

4. I'm a Real Woman. Of Philadelphia, that is.

Don't worry, I'm totally not dramatic enough to be in a Real Housewives show (or rich enough), but I DID
partner up with Philadelphia cream cheese and am working as an ambassador for 2013! It's all very exciting. You're going to see posts, recipes, and all kinds of things from me over here as well as on Notes From the Cookie Jar and at Chasing Tomatoes.

5. I have a new blog at Yummy Mummy Club!

No longer just writing recipes, I am set to have my own blog at YMC so you'll see all my stuff in one place! I am so excited to be writing at Fresh & Fearless Food, where I'll be talking lots about farms, fresh food and how to be fearless in your kitchen! Upcoming recipes are going to be rhubarb platz, a BBQ chipolte chicken wrap with bacon avocado salsa, and coconut mango pancakes. I'll post the link when it's live but YMC is working on it at the moment and it's not up yet.

6. Summer is totally coming

Hot weather hit the Fraser Valley this week, with temperatures going up to 30 C! John and I pulled the bike out of the garage on Saturday and went for a ride up the Fraser Canyon to Cache Creek. If you've never driven the Fraser Canyon, you should-it's so beautiful! We wound by the Fraser river, had lunch in Cache Creek, and even saw bighorn sheep hanging out by the highway.

7. Flats of strawberries

You know spring is here when I start making jam. I have a half flat of strawberries in my fridge, ready to be made into strawberry rhubarb jam! I also discovered a local strawberry farm not far from my house were we can go and pick our own in June. I'm so excited!

8. Close Canada Geese encounters

On Vedder Road in the middle of Chillwack, there is a waterfowl crossing sign. Every year, Canadian geese nest in the area and when the goslings hatch, they hang out in the park and eventually try to cross the road. I've been watching the geese with their goslings wandering around the park every day on my way to work, wondering when they will try to make a break for the nearby pond. I've been planning to try to get a photo of them. Let's see if I do without getting bit!

9. I'm cooking less and enjoying more

Now this may seem weird to some of you, who are used to me cooking all the time. For awhile I was. In fact, for a time I was madly churning out what felt like a gazillion recipes. Then I kind of became burned out and started to lose the joy of being in my kitchen. I didn't create anymore. These days, I'm getting creative again and re-discovering the joy of just coming up with something to eat from what I have around here.

I love that.

10. A low fat and really tasty chocolate "milkshake"

I love milkshakes, but I don't like the calories in them. I also didn't want to buy ice cream this week, as it was almost $8 a carton. So instead, I bought some kick ass chocolate milk and blended it up with frozen banana. Oooooo..... yummy. Try it. You'll thank me later.

AND, before you give me the "But what about that sugar thing?" Um...ya. All things in moderation. I needed chocolate. I did manage to stay away from any treats all week, which was a feat!

30 Days of Blogging: Peek in the Purse

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Mon, 29 Apr 2013 09:00:00 +0000

"What's in your purse?"

At one time, I had a massive purse but through the years, I've paired things down. Two years ago before I went to Blogher 11, I found a very cute little black leather purse that is just the right size for when I'm on the motorcycle. I can tuck it in under my jacket, and it has just enough room for the absolute essentials.

I hate lugging a lot of stuff around so my purse is tiny and sweet, just compact enough to carry only what I really need. I love it and use it all the time.

1. Moody Bee lip balm: I use it more than lipstick, especially when my lips are dry or chapped. There's some lipstick, too.

2. a compact brush: I got this thing from a Yummy Mummy Club party when I went to Blissdom 11, and it is AWESOME. I tuck it into my pocket when I'm on the bike, and it's a perfect fit for my purse, too.

3. a puzzle piece: when we moved, I found this tucked under the couch and put it in my purse. I have yet to find the puzzle to put it back.

4. An earring: Kevin bought me these in grade 6 from a friend who made jewelry. I'm not sure why one is in the purse-but I like them and still wear them.

5. Cards, cards, and more cards: ID, credit/debit, and member cards to everything from Costco to Save on Foods, a few gift cards to Mucho Burrito, an Ambassador pass to Fort Langley Historical Site, and a frequent bread buyer card from Cobs.

5. some coverup for makeup emergencies: I got this TWO years ago and I still haven't used it all, but it works well so I'm still using it.

6. A pen! (I always have one for emergencies)

7. bandaids: I'm a Mom-you ALWAYS need bandaids, even when they are older

8. Mints: I'm a little obsessive about having mints. I drink coffee a lot, which gives you nasty breath. The worst thing when you work with kids is having one announce, loudly, that your breath stinks

9. Money: not much, but usually I have at least a quarter and a looney to put in carts when I'm shopping.

10. a hair tie: having longer hair, I try to carry one in my purse all the time in case I need one. I've used it quite a lot, especially if I'm at work and we're cooking or something.

What is essential in YOUR purse? Anything unusual?

30 Days of Blogging: In the Middle

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Sun, 28 Apr 2013 09:00:00 +0000

"What's your middle name, and what's it's significance?"

My middle name is Lynn. As far as I know, it doesn't mean anything-I'm not named for anyone, and there's no amazing story that I know of. I have met a lot of Lynns in my time (in fact, my neighbour's name is Lynn), but it's still not as common as my first name was growing up.

For some reason, everyone named their child Karen back in the early 1970s. There were three of us in most of our classes and when the teachers would call on us, we'd always have to ask, "Which one?" I even had a cousin with almost the EXACT same name (first and last), but the only difference was our middle names. Relatives used to call us "big Karen" and "little Karen" because I was the older one.

Another interesting fact: I'm the only girl in my family who actually goes by her first name. Both my Mom AND my sister may have to legally use their first name in documents, but both actually go by their middle names.

I've never given my middle name a lot of thought. It's just there, attached to my main name, something I put on documents when I need to.

What about you? What's YOUR middle name?

30 Days of Blogging: Shuffle Me

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Sat, 27 Apr 2013 15:27:00 +0000

Awhile ago I agreed to participate in a 30 days of blogging challenge-which was great, but then I promptly forgot about it and went merrily along with my week, even though I was supposed to start on Wednesday.

So, while everyone else is on day 4, I'm just starting.

Yes, my name is Scattered. Gah.

The first question was to find my iPod and list the first ten songs that play. This is funny for several reasons, because I haven't updated my music in forever, and my ipod is now being used as an alarm clock. There's also a lot of music on there that I have planned to delete, but hadn't gotten to quite yet.

Actually a goal of mine is to get some good speakers so that I can hook my ipod up to them and play things in my kitchen. Right now there is no such set up, and I've been music-less since we moved here. John often likes to watch TV so I usually plug my headphones in and just take my ipod with me while I cook. My favourite artists are Keith Urban, Carrie Underwood, and Lady Antebellum, so I have mostly them on my ipod and... a bunch I've forgotten about.

Who is there and what did I find?

1. "Mama" Carrie Underwood

2. "Our Kind of Love" Lady Antebellum

3. "Put You in a Song" Keith Urban

4. "City of Love" Martina McBride

5. "Old Blue Chair" Kenny Chesney

6. "The Voice Within" Christina Aguilera

7. "Days Go By" Keith Urban

8. "Beat it" Michael Jackson

9. "Without You" Dixie Chicks

10. "Sea of No Cares" Great Big Sea

Almost reads like country music radio-which reminds me, I need to update my music.

What's on your iPod?

Cookie Crumbs: Better Than...

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 09:55:00 +0000

So, John has his bike out of storage and you'll be hearing a lot about us being out and about on the motorcycle. With no ferry to contend with now, we've realized that we can do lunch in Kamloops! Or Vernon! Kelowna!

The possibilities are endless, you see. Summer is going to be fantastic.

John comes alive when he has the opportunity to ride. If he could, I swear that man would be on his bike every day, all day. Last Saturday when we brought his baby home, Kev and I met him at Starbucks for a coffee before we stopped at the store for bread.

"Dad loves that bike. You'd almost say it's better than...." he stopped, embarrassed.

"Oh, better than sex? Is that what you were going to say?" Kev giggled nervously. "Oh, well. That would be less work for me, right?" I breezed through the doors ahead of him as he shook his head.

"WAY too much information, Mom."

Sunday Awesome #2

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 13:53:00 +0000

Sure, I know it's Monday, but what's so nice about the Sunday Awesome is that I am scattered and can post it when I want. Right?

I'm sticking to that.

1. Cherry Blossoms!

A few weeks ago someone told me to get out and take photos of the huge trees covered in blossoms in our neighbourhood before they were gone. I didn't and before you know it, soon all the petals were on the ground. Luck was with me on Sunday though as I strolled to the store and saw these trees just down the road. Normally I would've driven and likely missed them, but John accidentally left the house with his car keys in his pocket. Oops!

Blue sky, warm breezes, and these pretty flowers made it all worth it.

2. New Cookbooks

In the last few weeks 4 beautiful new books and the latest Bon Appetit magazine arrived at my door. Two I ordered for my birthday and were ones that I had always coveted when I visited Anne, so they not only remind me of Friday coffee dates and her, but hold recipes that she actually made for me. The others are Gordon Ramsay's latest and Gwyneth Paltrow's new book. I'm not so much a fan of Gwyneth's but I am really enjoying Gordon Ramsay's.

New cookbooks always inspire me to cook, and to have two of Anne's favourites make me happy.

3. Hot Showers!

This week I only had a cold shower twice. Kevin is learning how long he can shower before he uses all the hot water and Mom gets upset. I'm going to resort to turning the hot water on downstairs when he goes past 10 minutes, now. Brrr! It's that or shower first and use the hot water up before he gets there. Suggestions?

4. Lemon Curd.

I made lemon curd this weekend with a bag of Meyer lemons. It's something that I could literally eat straight from the jar, spoonful by spoonful. I have 3 jars in my fridge now, all ready to be slathered on crepes, scones, or spooned over plain yogurt.

5. Not ALL my houseplants are dead. Just most of them.

Our move was hard on the houseplants. Most of them died, except for the aloe vera, which is strangely thriving. I have a few other cactus like plants that also seem good, but everything else? Dead. The herbs on my porch are doing well though, and I also have some gynormous plant pots Anne gave me that I want to fill with something, although I'm not sure what. Herbs? Flowers? Tomatoes? Or how about a nice tree? Whatever it is, I want to make sure what I plant, lives.

What is awesome in your corner of the world?

PS.. I am participating in a 30 day blog challenge, so you are going to get to know all sorts of deep, dark secrets about me. Look for it on Wednesday!

Flat Tires and Gelato: An Adventure in Downtown Vancouver

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Sun, 21 Apr 2013 18:34:00 +0000

Some time ago, Kevin and I were invited to a Gelato 101 class at Bella Gelateria in downtown Vancouver. James was offering classes and kindly offered up one to me and a bunch of friends, which made me drool with anticipation.

Strawberry gelato from Bella Gelateria

I first heard of Bella Gelateria last year from Alexis, my go-to for all the fantastic food places downtown. Then I visited once last year after a visit with Anne, who demanded that I visit it for her because she could no longer eat gelato and desperately wanted to. I couldn't wait to actually go and learn how gelato was made, as if it were my own personal episode of How It's Made.

Vancouver is a good hour and a half drive from Chilliwack. In order to get to the class on time and not get caught in rush hour traffic, we had to leave early. We'll catch dinner downtown with Alexis, I thought. Kev hasn't experienced a lot of great restaurants, and it would be wonderful to take him to Gyoza King.

Alexis is my source for all things downtown. Plus she's just awesome. (photo by Tracey Rossignol)

Soon we were zipping down the freeway in my new little Toyota Yaris. When we moved to Chilliwack, we traded in my car and because our garage is so tiny, another Corolla wouldn't do.

"Ooo, I like this one." I ran my hand over a bright greenish blue little Yaris. It's an automatic, which I've always wanted. It's tiny, which works for the city. For the first time in 20 years, I finally picked out the EXACT car I wanted, without having to think about John and what kind of car he wanted (which, is usually quite a bit different). This car is all mine, and I LOVE it.

Driving in Vancouver is interesting. There's a lot more traffic, and the construction on the freeway around Burnaby can make things a little confusing. I'm the kind of girl who is perpetually lost (hence the name Scatteredmom), and finding my way around can be a challenge. There is always a map in my car and in our move I lost my cell phone charger, so I didn't have a cell phone with me either.

We arrived in downtown Vancouver, made a few wrong turns, pulled a few U-turns, and finally found our destination. Early, even! Hooray! There's always a sense of relief when I finally park the car, victorious, at our destination. I don't know why, but something was niggling at me while I drove. I'm not an intuitive driver; unlike John or Kevin who can just listen to an engine and diagnose the issue. I'm pretty clueless. However this time, something felt a little weird.

We got out of the car and as I put money in the parking meter, I could see exactly what the problem was.

The front passenger side tire was flat. Not completely flat, but flat enough that the car couldn't be driven anywhere else, much less home on the freeway. We weren't going anywhere.

Have you ever had a flat tire? I haven't. I don't know the first thing about changing a flat tire. Especially at 5 pm on Robson St. in downtown Vancouver when we're just going to dinner, then a gelato class at 7pm. Kev and I collectively cursed all the construction happening near our home, and the screw that found it's way into my tire. Were we stranded? John is in Sechelt during the week. Would we have to bunk with Alexis? Neither of us were prepared for that. I also can't just leave my car downtown and risk getting towed.

Fortunately Toyota has a service that you can get with a new car where for a year or up to a particular milage, you get roadside assistance that includes (hooray!) changing a flat tire. We were saved!

Or, I think. I was still super anxious. Parking is only two hours. Will I get towed? Alexis assured me that no, I'd be okay. This is her turf. Her neighborhood. She knows more than I do. We left the car, gorged on sushi, and then literally ran to Bella Gelateria. (Alexis would call it walking-however now, when we need to be fast, I'll call it "Alexis walking" and he knows I mean basically jogging)

Kevin and I enjoying our gelato class. You'd never know we were wondering if we'd get home. (photo by Tracey Rossignol)

After the class where we made and stuffed ourselves full of gelato, we waddled back to the car and phoned Toyota. It was cold. Dark. Downtown.

And we waited for the tow truck.

Finally, around 11:30 pm the guy arrived. I've never really had my car towed before, or tires changed. He hooked up the car and whipped around the corner with it, then put it in all sorts of crazy tippy positions while Kevin and I collectively freaked out.

My car! My new car! Be gentle! It's my baby! Don't scratch it! (totally lame, I know)

Within 15 minutes I was good to go with a temporary tire on, and advice to take the long way back to Chilliwack. Not the freeway, the guy advised, but winding through all the back ways to get out to Chilliwack since I couldn't go fast enough to safely be on the freeway.

Of course, I promptly got lost trying to find the right highway and we ended up out at the airport because, why not? It took us awhile longer, but we finally pulled into the driveway at 1:30 am-tired, cranky, and grateful to finally have an end to the evening. I think Kevin nearly kissed the driveway.

Note to self: Learn how to change a tire, and always take my cell phone. You never know when you'll need it.

(This post was not sponsored in any way by Toyota or Bella Gelateria. All opinions are my own. )

Sunday Awesome List #1

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Sun, 14 Apr 2013 18:31:00 +0000

I've flirted with lists like Grace In Small Things here and there, and when Anne was sick we came up with Awesome Lists, which I did for awhile. Then for awhile I started posting it only on Twitter, and finally stopped.

Well, The Awesome list is back every Sunday now here in the Cookie Jar, starting with today because Sunday really is awesome, isn't it? (Edited to add: I am writing these now for me, and for YOU, because every now and then we needed to be reminded of the awesome things in life. )

1. Yesterday we went to Port Moody to get John's motorcycle out of storage. You should have seen my husband, people. His eyes were shining, there was a bounce in his step, you would've thought he had a new girlfriend. He is completely stoked to have the bike back, and the best part is we don't have to worry about taking a ferry every time we want to ride it. Also, despite our tiny garage, we can fit the bike AND my car in there and still have room. After I published here, we went out on a ride to Hope and meandered back through the valley. Rolling green fields, barns, snow capped mountains.. oh it was gorgeous. I'm going to have to take pictures next time.

2. On Friday I trekked way out into the middle of the Fraser Valley to a farm that is selling a bunch of free range chickens for only $10 each. It felt like it was way out in the middle of nowhere, and I honestly thought I'd get lost out there, but I came back with two 4 lb chickens ready to be roasted up. They are now waiting in my freezer for when I need to make something. I've never had farm fresh chicken before. This should be interesting!

3. A friend gifted me with the most beautiful boots and shoes that she couldn't wear anymore. They are all like new and fit me perfectly. I was sad for her to have to give up such nice footwear but ohmygoodness, I'm loving them SO MUCH. Add to that the fact that I've coveted boots for ages but never got around to buying some and I'm so grateful.

4. Kevin is doing amazingly well. So much so that when asked to rate his new school on a scale of 1-5, he chirps, "TEN!". Online school was great at the time when he needed it, but he loves being in classes with new people, at a facility that has more courses than he dreamed possible. With all these new friends and courses he's enjoying, he's been a happy guy. He's looking for a summer job and has found a few leads that are promising, so things are really on track for him.

5. This may sound strange, but I'm very grateful for my mental health. For awhile there last year and in the beginning of this one, I teetered dangerously close on the brink of having a complete breakdown. You never know how you're going to get through things like family illness and death, or having everything thrown at you at once. While outwardly I appeared to be handling it, inwardly I wasn't and was just really, really good at faking it. I had kept myself busy so I couldn't think - in fact, I so busy that when everything fell apart last August, I had no idea how I could keep up anymore and suddenly realized that I actually couldn't. I was just too stubborn to make myself stop and say no.

Honestly, everything from last July to this January is a complete blur. I'm so not good at asking for help.

I'm better, now. Life has settled into a predictable, and really comfortable routine. Nobody needs me anymore because they are doing well. I am able, for the first time in two years, to look after me. While I'm a little bumped and bruised, with scars that likely will never heal, I'm okay.

And THAT is awesome.

Happiness is a Toaster That Works

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Fri, 12 Apr 2013 06:32:00 +0000

John has always loved his toast. While I can change up what I eat for breakfast now and then without any real stress coming from it, John has never wavered from his usual breakfast in the entire twenty years we've been married:

Whole wheat toast with margarine and honey. Not whole wheat toast with sesame seeds (which I love) or white toast, no raisin bread or any other change. Ever. Even when we've been on vacation deep in southern New Mexico, he still somehow found toast and honey.

Our toaster for the past 8 years has been some no name brand from Home Depot that we picked up when we moved to Sechelt back in 2005, and we have always hated it. The thing toasted unevenly to the point where we had to move the bread around every few minutes, or we'd end up with some places burned and others completely untoasted. I don't know about you but when I'm half asleep, this is too much work.

I've often said that I'm the kind of person who uses something until it dies, and this toaster was proof; for the past 8 years we cursed at that appliance every morning.

Push down the lever. Wait about 2 minutes. Pop. Turn the bread. Curse. Push the lever down again. Repeat about 5 times until the bread is toasted. Don't get distracted or one side is burned and the other toasted in random spots. Curse some more.

Then a couple of weeks ago, a piece of the toaster literally fell off.

"Um... honey? I think the toaster broke." John held up a small metal piece and looked at it closely. "I'll see if I can fix it."

You know, because that's what my man does. He fixes everything, even the toaster that we've hated with a fiery passion for the past 8 years, mostly because we're too lazy and cheap to just go buy another toaster. We continued to use one side of that 4 slice appliance, just ignoring the broken side because seriously, we don't need it anyway, right?

Honestly I was just far too lazy to go find another toaster. Period.

Until suddenly, the good folks at Kenwood appliances came to my rescue. Now before you go all "Dammit this post is sponsored she's gotten us to read this and now I'm pissed off", know that I wasn't paid a thing to write this. I wasn't even asked to write this. I was simply sent a toaster. I hadn't even heard of Kenwood appliances until the toaster arrived at my door.

I admit, I did a little dance. The retro look of this toaster is cute. It's shiny, too. Which can be a problem with scratches and keeping it really clean, but I don't have little kids so it's okay. Best of all, this toaster WORKS. The bread gets evenly toasted, and if I want to look at it to see the progress, I can lift it up, take a peek, and put it back in the toaster without having to click anything off. There's no fancy gadgetry which I like because I want things simple. John loves it. In fact, he loves the toaster so much that instead of cursing at the toaster every morning, he now serenades it.

I wonder what he'd do if I bought this really cute red kettle to go with it?

Thank you so much to the folks at Kenwood for this great toaster. My family absolutely loves it. I was not paid, nor asked to write this post. I was given a free toaster with no obligation, and my opinion is completely my own. This particular toaster happened to be EXACTLY what I was looking for.

10 Things I've Learned Since I Moved to Chilliwack

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Mon, 08 Apr 2013 14:02:00 +0000

1. There are stores. Really. And they are open late.

After living for years in a place where everything closes at 5pm and restaurants aren't open past 8pm, it's downright weird to think I can get groceries at Superstore 24 hrs a day or a Starbucks coffee at 10pm. We are so conditioned to not shopping that when it dawns on us that every store we could possibly want is at our fingertips, we squeal with delight.

The best part is that there's not only stores, but no matter what day of the week or time we go, there's generally still stock there. The store isn't going to run out of sugar at noon on Saturday because there's a sale, and if it does, there's a gazillion other places we could go.

We still need to remind ourselves that we can just go buy something. We're used to waiting, so much so that it took me about 4 months to finally get to Sears down the road to buy Kev a pair of jeans. How's that for self control?

2. People don't like to drive into the city from the suburbs

This makes me laugh. When we were Christmas shopping at Coquitlam Center, people made a gigantic deal about it. Seriously? There's no ferry, people. Any place that I don't have to take a ferry to is fair game. Just wait until your life is dictated by a ferry schedule, and when you're finally free you'll go anywhere and everywhere.

3. I don't need to buy ALL THE PRODUCE.

The first while we were here, I couldn't get over the price and availability of produce. Meyer lemons year round? Asparagus for $2 a pound? Are you serious? Prices of fruits and veggies are 1/3 of what they were on the Sunshine coast. I am still getting used to not buying way too much and having to throw it away because it goes rotten before we can eat it. I still go into Kins Market, close my eyes, take a deep breath, and smile. All those cooking possibilities. Just wait until the Farmer's Markets start up.

4. GPS is awesome.

Awhile ago, I finally got a smart phone. Over spring break it really came in handy as Kevin and I tried to find our way around the Lower Mainland on various adventures, because people, my sense of direction? OY. I'm getting better at navigating my way around here, but I still get lost on a regular basis. I don't think I really could survive here without it, or at least a bunch of maps in the car. Kevin even told John that "Mom is really good at pulling u-turns, you know." Oops.

5. I like being anonymous.

After living in a place where you sneeze and your neighbour knows about it, we can go anywhere and rarely run into someone we know. Oh sure, the staff at the stores we frequent know us (mostly because I tweet about them constantly and how much I love their products), but other than that? We're pretty much anonymous. At least now I can buy tampons at Shoppers Drug Mart and not have one of my students ring me through. Now THAT was embarrassing.

6. Farms are awesome, and I don't mind the smell of manure

When we told people we were moving to Chilliwack, some immediately complained about the smell of the fields. You know what? I love farms. I love that I can drive 5 minutes from my front door and there's someone selling farm fresh eggs on the side of the road. Or that in the summer there's little stands selling corn. Right in the middle of town there's a field of brussels sprouts. Across from lots of the schools are corn fields. Where else can you live with farm fresh products so close? So we have to smell some manure occasionally. Whatever.

7. Mountains are pretty too

Living by the ocean all those years was great. We loved watching the cruise ships go by, it was fun to go to the seashore and look for crabs, and the smell of salt air was nice. There were drawbacks, though; enough humidity to make mould grow on the insides of your windows, I was perpetually cold, and your laundry would take forever to dry. It's drier out here in the valley, which means we no longer deal with any of those things. Mountains are just minutes away and wow, are they gorgeous in the winter with a dusting of snow. If we have a hankering for a beach there's a lake close by too, with picnic areas.

8. Fast food is everywhere

This is something I really, truly don't get. We live in the middle of farmland and hot lunch at school = fast food. Wait...what? Yep. Puzzles me too. How does that even make sense? On the Sunshine Coast we had little access to farm fresh food, and yet often the parents made sure the hot lunches were healthy. Here, not so much. Jamie Oliver would have a field day.

9. My small town-ness is showing

Occasionally I embarrass myself. Okay sure, I don't have the latest city-like clothes. I'm a bit clueless with a smart phone. I don't know the ins and outs of town and yes, if someone refers to an area of Chilliwack, it's likely I'll have NO idea what they are talking about. I ask a lot of questions. Usually people ask how long we've lived here and when I explain, they cut me some slack. Um, ya. I don't think I'll ever be completely city-fied, but I'm working on it.

10. Living with John only on the weekends is weird

Yep, John is still working in Sechelt. He makes it home for weekends, then treks back across the water early Monday mornings. Being the only parent at home during the week has taken some adjusting. While it has advantages (the remote control to myself!), I do miss having our family all together. We've had fun with John, showing him places we've discovered and giggling when HIS small town-ness is showing.

So Far 2013, You've Been Pretty Awesome

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Sun, 03 Mar 2013 06:36:00 +0000

The feeling was completely unexpected-maybe I had just forgotten what it was like, but at some point in the last month I looked around and realized that I don't feel completely stressed anymore. That jaw clenching, knots in the shoulders, impending doom feeling was just...gone.

It's weird, really. You get so used to living every day, waiting for the other shoe to drop when suddenly, you look up and realize the shoe isn't even there anymore. There's nobody to take care of. Nobody is sick or dying. There's no bags of medication to get from the store, or visits to the hospital. There's no house to pack or moving truck to book, ferry to catch, or nosy people to avoid.

There's also nothing familiar, here. With the exception of our personal possessions and the stories on this blog, our old life in Sechelt, which vanished within a few short months, is all but a distant memory. In some ways, it's a blessing. In those early days after Anne passed away, when my grief was fresh and raw, I know I wouldn't have been able to handle the daily reminders of her absence.

Life in the Fraser Valley has settled into a predictable, and yet exciting, routine.

Going from a place where there were few shops and services to one where we have almost every store I could want within a 30 minute drive is a little strange. We get a thrill at the shops being open after 8pm, and that there's more than five restaurants to choose from. There's so much to do and see that we often forget that it's there, and then are pleasantly surprised when we realize it is. Often I joke that my "small town-ness is showing" when we squeal over the fact that we can just go to Purdy's Chocolate anytime we want. For the first few months, whenever I'd see a killer sale on something it took everything in my not to want to buy out the store. Yes, toilet paper is this cheap. Yes, it will go on sale again.

You don't need to load up the car anymore, Karen. And Costco is only 20 minutes away now! Changes haven't just affected me, there's been big changes for Kevin, too.

In January after a year and a half of online school, Kevin returned to public school. We weren't really sure how it would go-after all, his last school had 650 students from grades 8-12 and the new one is more than double that with students from grades 10-12. Much to our delight, he has settled in so well and is loving it so much that I think he even surprised himself.

"I've never, ever, loved school this much," he commented the other day. I asked him if it was the courses or the hot girls, and of course he said something about how awesome his teachers are, how their view on technology is way more in line with this century, and how there's less small town drama, but I think hot girls still had something to do with it because honestly? He keeps mentioning them.

There's been all sorts of fun adventures and outings that I need to share with you, from farms to gelato making classes, and the time that my car got a flat tire in downtown Vancouver late at night. It was awesome! We got lost on the way home and almost ended up at the airport. In March we plan a visit to Ethical Bean headquarters, a teaching session for my new smartphone with Telus, the Vancouver Art Gallery, a well known kitchen store in Langley, and our favourite fish monger One Fish Two Fish. There's also the matter of some movies we want to see (Jack the Giant Killer, The Great and Powerful Oz, and that new Star Trek movie), and food trucks we need to try. Bit by bit, we've ventured out of the house, blinking as though we are awakening from a deep slumber.

For the first time, in a very, very long time, things are happy and peaceful. Stories are now coming back into my head in fits and bursts where once there was silence. It's almost like storytelling is a muscle. Back when John was sick and Anne was dying, I desperately wanted to tell those stories but couldn't, so I squashed them deep, deep down and buried them. Bit by bit, I became so used to quashing every story that eventually, they didn't come anymore. I'd sit in front of the screen and couldn't get more than a paragraph onto the screen before deleting it. These days, they flood into my brain as I'm driving to work, or when a song comes on the radio. They dance on the edges while I tidy the kitchen or fold laundry.

At one point, when I declared I needed a break, I wasn't sure if they'd ever come back. That was frightening. What I do know now is that day by day, I'm slowly getting back my old fire that made me start this blog in the beginning all those years ago, and excited to continue to write in this space. While I plan to continue to explore, to heal, and enjoy my family and life off the blog, I can tell you this:

I will be back. You can count on that.

PS.. I recently have become the owner of a swanky new Blackberry z10! My twitter feed is going to have a LOT more food photos, as well as pictures as we're out and about. As soon as I set up an Instagram account, you'll be able to follow me to see what we're up to. March is going to be a fun month at my house, that's for sure!

Today I Stood Up For You

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Sun, 24 Feb 2013 00:53:00 +0000

I won't soon forget the pain in your face, that day when you told me. You fiddled with your paper cup steaming with tea, your eyes gazing out to the water. Your voice faltered a little as you recounted how they made you feel small. The bullies, you had described, and the bystanders who should've known better than to see you swallowed whole. Those who professed to be your friends didn't even lift a finger to stop it. Others who said that they didn't see the point in defending you, because there was nowhere to go with that.

You told me how they made you feel like you were crazy-all because one person didn't like how you dressed.

I had wished then, as you recounted the story, that we had been friends back then. I'm not sure if I would have had the strength myself to rise against such poison by myself, but I know that I would have been there standing with you, making you feel less alone. Yet I didn't know you then.

What I do know is that experience scarred you and when you were vulnerable again, sick with cancer, I hated those people. I hated what they did to you, and the pain they caused-their never ending need for gossip and power infiltrating even then. People always act weird when someone they know is diagnosed with terminal cancer. Some who professed to be your friend promptly ran-others became sickeningly sweet, acting like you were already dead. Gossipers and ambulance chasers suddenly came out of the woodwork and began asking me the most inappropriate questions about you, and your family.

Many people were kind and hopeful, but never knew what to say. Those were easy to spot and immediately forgiven for their faux pas, but others, not so much. I still remember our shared joke that we needed cards with snappy comebacks on them, saying things such as, "Did you REALLY just ask THAT?"

I never minded fielding the inquiries and disposing of the gifts, as you asked me to. You never wanted to be pitied, and hated the thought of being "that kind of person." All you wanted was people to treat you as they always had, and if they couldn't do even that, give you a hug.

"A hug is really all I need," you'd tell me. I held my tongue when you told me the anguish someone once close to you was causing-the shocking behavior that appalled me to the point where I couldn't understand how sick people can be. I'm not sure you ever knew how hard it was to see someone hurt you and abuse your friendship but out of respect for your wishes and worried that it could make things worse, I was silent.

They had no idea what they were missing-what a beautiful and kind soul you were, and how their sick and abusive behavior tortured you right to your deathbed when you asked me, heartbroken, if you really were expected to be the bigger person and forgive them. Even then, they couldn't leave you alone. Like vultures they circled, and once you were gone acted as though nothing was ever amiss.

I may not have been able to protect you then, but I did today. The gloves came off while my anger and disgust poured through my fingers. No more will I stand for this. No longer will I put up with someone hurting people I love, or manipulating my family to acquire a juicy piece of gossip.

No longer. Today I'm standing up for you. For us. For all of us who painfully watched you die.

IP addresses will be found and blocked. This space, and these posts which are sacred to me, are not meant for their consumption. They do not deserve to have one more piece of you, no matter how tiny, especially through me.

As I write these words, the sun has just broken through the window, casting shadows in the afternoon light and warming my fingers as they type. I can hear your voice in my head, just like the last time you spoke to me.

"You make me feel safe," your frail hand gave mine a gentle squeeze, your eyes were full of love.

"My knight has shiny, shiny armour."

I'm Taking a Blogging Break

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Sun, 30 Dec 2012 09:00:00 +0000

Last year, one of my New Year resolutions was to kick 2012's butt. I wasn't going to sit around and let all the stuff that was happening bring me down, but rather live with intention and face it all with the most positive attitude I could.

On Twitter, some were inspired by my outlook and a fellow blogger even started a blog to chronicle our year where we could collectively kick 2012's ass, on which I was supposed to contribute but somehow that never happened. It didn't matter, though; most of you knew my intention and encouraged me or reminded me all year to stay strong and forge ahead, which in the darkest moments helped give me the strength to do exactly that.

2012 was a lot harder than I thought it would be. Part way through, when she was in the middle of a particularly brutal round of chemo, I remember Anne telling me,

"Cancer isn't something you beat. It's something you survive."

In a lot of ways, I feel like that is how 2012 was. It was impossible to change the things that happened, and a lot of the time the only way to really get through it seemed to just forge ahead and make the best of the situation. From Anne moving away to watching her die, John clawing his way through Hepatitis C treatment, being forced to move and find new jobs, and through living apart for 4 months, all I've been able to really do is make sure everyone was okay and keep going. Pay the bills. Do the laundry, make sure we're all fed, that Kevin is in school, clean the house. One foot in the front of the other, day after day.

We Moms and wives do that, don't we? When life becomes one crisis after another we make sure that everyone else is taken care of before we take care of ourselves. During 2012, that's pretty much what I did. There was just one thing I completely forgot about this year, and now that the dust has settled, I've finally realized what it is.

Me.

Oh sure, there were some blogger trips this year that provided some escapism and I swear were the only things that kept me sane but now that things have settled back to a predictable routine, I'm finding that all the stress, all the heartache and pain that I stuffed down all year, has come crashing right on top of me. I'd be lying if I told you that 2012 didn't completely change my world both literally and figuratively, and as a result, I've changed too. My priorities have shifted. I realized that while I had wanted to make a career out of my online connections, that it's not practical. I have a job that gives us benefits, pension, life insurance and more; giving that up would be really foolhardy at this point.

I'm not sure I would've been able to make it through the last year without the support of all of you. Blogging not only has brought me a great community and lots of friendships, but a way to connect with fantastic brands and causes as well. I've been blessed with some success that I didn't expect at all, and have been grateful for. The thing is, over the last few months as I've struggled to put our life back together, I've become downright unreliable-which is completely unacceptable to me. I'm the kind of person who is a perfectionist and loves to do things the best I can, but currently even my best isn't that great at all. It's bothered me for the past few months, until finally the solution came to me the other day.

I'm taking a break from blogging. Not just a week or two, but a good, long break.

2012 may have been about survival, but 2013 is going to be all about re-building and getting our life back. It's time to take care of myself for a change, and get my family all living under one roof. Kevin is going back to public school in February, and needs support. I want to cook in my kitchen and enjoy it again without the pressure of having to produce a photo or blog a recipe. There's a whole new community out there for us to explore, and I want to do that just for fun, not because I need content. I have a gym just minutes from my house, which I'd like to begin visiting so I can take charge of my health again.

I want to be able to sit down and write, not sit and stare at a screen because I have nothing left.

You'll still find me writing recipes and articles for Yummy Mummy Club. I'll still be on Twitter, Facebook, and Flickr. I want to stay in touch and be part of the community, but for awhile, have the extra time to re-fill my own well and get my writing groove back. In August I'll re-evaluate whether I want to continue the blogs, start a new one, or shut them down altogether. It may even be sooner, if I feel like it.

You've all been so good to me, and I would never have made it through the last two years without all of you. Thank you so much for reading, for the messages, the emails, the cards, and all the love.

I love you, too.

So this isn't goodbye, but rather, I'll see you when I'm back. Who knows what I'll find while I'm on sabbatical?

Honestly, I really can't wait to find out.

Making Dessert Moments with Kraft Canada

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Fri, 28 Dec 2012 20:40:00 +0000

When Christmas comes, I can't help but hit the kitchen and create all kinds of treats for friends and family to enjoy. This Christmas I had a great opportunity to partner up with Kraft Canada and make a whole bunch of fantastic treats to share. Kevin and John even got involved (well, with the eating, anyway).

We had so many people we wanted to gift goodies to. Firstly, our friends who have so kindly let John stay in their suite on the Sunshine Coast while we waited for him to finally get transferred to Chilliwack. Then our realtor turned friend Jackie, who helped us find our beautiful house!

Lastly, the staff over at Valley Toyota, who went so far above and beyond helping us get our new car while we were literally in the middle of moving. Honestly-we were unloading the truck at some crazy hour and one of their staff drove to our house to get us to sign a paper. Who does that? Obviously only those who offer you amazing service.

One weekend in December, we were like little kitchen elves and baked up a whole bunch of treats with Kraft products, turning our holiday into some fun #dessertmoments. Photographer Kim Mallory dropped by and took all kinds of pictures of the treats, us, and my new kitchen!

Kraft has a whole bunch of great recipes for gift giving that are really quick and easy to make. Christmas has passed, but these would make a great hostess gift or addition to a cookie tray for New Year's Eve. We easily whipped up all three of these treats in record time!

Recipe #1 was Oatmeal Caramel Chocolate Squares. If you love Kraft Caramels like we do, you'll love this recipe. An oatmeal base with chocolate chips, a caramel sauce drizzled over top, and more oatmeal sprinkled on top, then baked. They were a bit crumbly when I cut them up, but chocolate and caramel are one of my favourite flavour combinations.

Recipe #2 was my family's favourite and honestly, I wasn't sure there would be any left to give away once the photos were taken and I was packaging it up. Rocky Ridge bark is so easy and has everything you'd love in it; Oreo cookies, chocolate, marshmallows, and peanuts. Chocolate barks have to be the easiest and yet most tasty gift of all to give. The only work is making yourself wait while it hardens.

You can even switch around the ingredients. If you are allergic to nuts, change the peanuts to dried cherries or cranberries, or even crushed candy cane instead!

Recipe #3 brought back a lot of childhood memories for me. When I was a kid my mom used to make peanut butter balls and these ones, peanut butter snowballs, were very similar. Mix up some peanut butter with graham crumbs and a few other things, chill, roll, and dip in chocolate. A little messy, yes, but totally worth it.

John wandered in the kitchen and chose to get in on the sampling. He really isn't a cook but when it comes to chocolate, he usually wanders by and has a taste. See, I know his weakness.

Kevin, on the other hand, was all over it. Teenagers usually have hollow legs anyway, and keeping this one from inhaling most of the treats was some work! He hovered and nibbled, and pretty much watched, wide eyed, until I finally just shoved a piece of rocky ridge bark in his direction.

As for me, putting up these treats was just as much fun as having my family around nibbling the end result, and finally packing them up and seeing the faces of the people we gifted them to. Even the photographer was thrilled when I sent her home with peanut butter balls. Gifts from a store are fun, but taking a little time and giving a gift from the kitchen?

Priceless.

Notes From the Cookie Jar was compensated for this post by being given a basket of ingredients to make the recipes, and products to pack them up in, such as containers, ribbon, and tissue. Photos were by Kim Mallory.

Hair is Overrated

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Mon, 17 Dec 2012 08:31:00 +0000

This is part 4 in a series about my husband's fight with Hepatitis C. You can go back and read the various posts here. (one, two, three)

Moonlight glints on his hair; mostly brown with bits of grey. I'm awake, despite the hour, staring at the back of his head. He tosses and turns, trying to make himself more comfortable, and his voice is thick with sleep as he begins to mumble.

"Hair. I'm losing too much hair."

Gently I reach out and touch his head, stroking the softness before snuggling up to his back in a hug as we both fall asleep again. I'm not supposed to know about the cancer - it was a mistake, really, slipped out by one of his friends in casual conversation. At 21, cancer doesn't seem real, or at least something that happened to people I love.

Cancer didn't win the day 20 years ago, and while I didn't initially appreciate the bullet we dodged until I was older, a black cloud sat, menacing, in the back of my mind. Cancer comes back.

Would it? If so, when? Every sneeze, every illness, every time he lost weight or didn't eat much because he wasn't hungry, I wondered.

Do you ever have a premonition? Something that you could swear you just know, in your bones? I knew, even back then, that around 40, I'd lose someone I loved dearly to cancer. I suppose that these days it's a high possibility once you reach 40 anyway, but back then, even at the tender age of 21, I knew.

Last fall Anne sent me pictures of herself shortly after she shaved off her hair. Tiny and pale like a little bird, all that was left was a downy fuzz. Cancer was real now, with a visual reminder that you couldn't ignore even if you tried. Before it was okay to pretend it wasn't happening, but now, not so much.

"You know, some people shave their heads for their friends to show support. I don't want you to do that." Her hand absentmindedly ran over her head as she talked. "Your hair is beautiful, don't you dare cut it."

The giggle burbled up and out before I could stop myself. "Sweetie, I love you, but I'm sorry. I couldn't shave my head for even you. I mean me, bald? Are you kidding?"

Our laughter filled the kitchen and she reached over to grip my hand.

"Really, I don't mind. It feels better. Cleaner. My scalp itched and hurt anyway, and I love the hats." Hats were spread out on the table in front of us - pinks and blues, greens, purples, every colour under the rainbow, all lovingly knitted by her mother. A beautiful rainbow of wool, each crafted to go with a different outfit, some to match her eyes, or even the new glasses she bought. More than just wool and a way to hide the obvious, they were love.

It was hard to contain the tears on the way home that day.

He was standing in the kitchen when I arrived home a little later than usual, as I had circled the block a few times to make sure my tears were finally dried before I stepped in the door.

Have to be strong. Don't let them see you cry. You can do this.

There were clippers in his hand.

"Shave it off. All of it. I can't stand it anymore."

His scalp had been bothering him for awhile. The medications, as he described them, made his scalp feel like needles were driving into his head every time he took a shower. His scalp was so tender, itchy, and uncomfortable that all he wanted was relief, by any means. We had tried various shampoos, but no matter what we did, nothing soothed his poor head.

I stood behind him, the buzz of the clippers whirring while I moved them front to back, the salt and pepper hair of his that I love so much falling to the floor. When he wasn't looking some tears silently fell with it. So much for being strong.

So this is for better or worse, in sickness and health, even if it means i have to shave your head so you have some relief, or sit and watch you sleep on the couch, night after night. How some nights I've sat and watched, phone nearby, because I'm so afraid you may not wake up. How I listen to every breath, every sigh, and with each one hope and pray that you will make it through. You have to make it through. I'm not sure I'll be able to cope if you don't. I can't cope now-she's dying, and you just aren't allowed to die too.

Finally all his hair is shorn and is scattered on the floor, neatly swept up, and we're finished. He ran his hand over his head and grinned.

"That's much better. Thank you!" A quick kiss and he was back to the couch to rest for the evening.

I joined him later, a hot cup of tea nearby and Twitter for solace, ready to hold vigil once again - but first, I had something else to do. Something that even he didn't know about because I still fought to be strong, but Anne let me in on a little secret and finally, I remembered what to do when I couldn't handle any more heartache. I slinked off to the shower and with the warm water running over my body, began to sob.

Nobody hears you cry in the shower.

Oh, Hello there, Hell.

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Wed, 05 Dec 2012 01:02:00 +0000

This is part 3 in a series. If you want to start at the beginning, go back and read part 1 or part 2.

At first, leading a double life didn't seem too hard. The good thing about the internet is that people don't see you, they only know the information that you put out there, so as far as anyone knew, things were fine.

Fortunately John's health seemed to stabalize, somewhat. He was still very sick, but there really is some comfort in knowing what you are dealing with, rather than the worry of the looming unknown. False starts, finding out what genotype he had, getting the right medication, applying to participate in medical studies, all delayed his treatment for months. In the meantime, we decided to pack as much fun and travel into the summer of 2011 as we could, before we had to face the reality of treatment.

First was the epic family road trip, then a week where John and I roared on through California on our motorbike, and finally I ended with #traversetrip, an epic journey with Tracey, Alexis, and Nicole to BlogHer in San Diego. It was bliss, all 32 days I spent in hotels over the course of two months, but by the end I was ready to be in my own bed and drinking my own coffee.

The email that blew my world apart arrived in my inbox only days before we were supposed to leave for Blogher. I barely got past 'cancer', and 'I'm so sorry' before completely bursting into tears right there in my computer chair. Kevin heard my wail and came running immediately.

"Mom, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

I was frantic, like a wild thing trapped, flailing my arms and shaking my head, pointing at the computer.

"She's, oh my god, she's...cancer. Oh God Kevin, Anne has cancer. Ovarian. This can't be happening. Why the hell is this happening?!" The last sentence came out with a shriek.

Hepatitis C, I could deal with. Hepatitis C had statistics that didn't mean impending death. Sure, there was the possibility of complications, of later transplants or cancer, but it was all possibilities. Ovarian cancer's statistics are grim, and when I read that most people don't even make it past five years, I knew right then and there what the outcome would be.

Anne was dying. I could try to deny it, ignore it, hope for the best, but in my heart, I just knew.

My first impulse was not to go to Blogher, cancel the entire trip and stay home. Anne wouldn't hear of it.

"What are you going to do, sit around at home with a sick husband and best friend? Watch me have chemo? Go. Have fun. You are in for months of hell, and you need this. I'll live vicariously through you. Just GO."

Tracey, Alexis, Nicole and I San Diego bound!

Soon I was riding along the highway, nibbling good cheese and laughing, but really I was running. Just for a little while, a little escapism was exactly what I needed. Anne was so right.

Summer soon gave way to fall, where I began a new job, Kevin began school online, Anne continued chemo, and we were all introduced to hell in the form of John's hepatitis C treatment.

I'm not sure how else to describe what it's like for someone on ribavirin and interferon, the most common drugs used to treat Hepatitis C. John literally took his first dose and within 30 minutes was shaking, achy, and laying on the couch. The amount of drugs one has to take to fight this disease involves a massive amount of pills on a daily basis, and an injection once a week. Think of your worse flu - one that makes you ache to your core, sucks all your energy, makes you cranky, you sleep all the time, and times it by 10,000. Now you know what it's like to begin Hepatitis C treatment.

Some people, we were told, could work and have the treatment. John tried at first, but became too sick to even get off the couch some days and soon, had to take medical leave altogether. Even Anne and Scott, both enduring chemo, began to sympathize with John.

"At least with chemo, you have a few days where they give you drugs to reduce the side effects," they explained. We affectionately named those drugs rocket fuel, as they made Anne feel almost normal. "Once those wear off, it's smack down that leaves you whimpering for any kind of relief. It sounds like John is in permanent smack down, and THAT isn't good."

Nope. Not good at all.

And things were about to get worse.

As I've begun writing, people have sent me messages worried that we are going through this in real time with my blog posts. I am writing this a year later, so please know, John and I are okay. You can catch up with part one and part two here.

The Perks of Flying Solo

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Mon, 03 Dec 2012 07:16:00 +0000

Since we've moved to the Fraser Valley, John has been commuting from the Sunshine Coast home on weekends. Living apart isn't something new to us; each time we've moved in the last 17 years, we've had a period where we've had to live apart for at least 6 months.

I hate living solo during the week and as a family on weekends. Your daily rhythm is thrown off, I miss him horribly, and things get missed when each of us assumes that the other took care of something. When he comes home we try to pack a week's worth of conversation into 2 days, and it often results in some misunderstandings. Also, forget my cooking only 4 days a week and expecting them to fend for themselves on the weekends routine! John comes home and understandably wants a home cooked meal, since he's been living on sandwiches all week.

Despite all of this, there are a few perks to solo living. Not many, but a few!

1. The remote for the TV is ALL MINE

Usually John gets control of the TV without question. I'm not one who even really likes TV so I don't care, but this way (and with my newfound love of PVR), I get to record all the shows I like, such as Gilmore girls, Jamie Oliver on Food Network, and Once Upon a Time, and watch them at my leisure. No longer am I waiting until he dozes off, then plotting to steal the remote so that we don't have to watch yet another re-run of ghost hunters.

Added Bonus: no sitting on the couch trying not to look up because he's watching some really horrible horror movie that's got body parts flying around on screen.

2. Sushi, for the WIN!

Steak? Indian? What about Chinese? There's lots of things Kevin and I love to eat that John won't touch, so I don't make them often. With John away, Kevin and I indulge in all the dishes that we love and John won't eat. Although the downside is we always have lots of leftovers,and only two of us. I'm even more grateful for my teenager's incredible appetite.

3. I can use all the covers

I'm a blanket hog. I've always been. With the bed to myself, I can use all the blankets and spread out as much as I want, guilt free. John likes the window open, so fresh air and the sounds of the cars roaring by on the nearby road keep me awake. I slam that puppy closed, draw the blinds, pile the bed with more blankets, and use as much space as I want.

4. The house is cleaner

This is a weird side effect. The house isn't cleaner because John is messy, but because *I* am cleaner when he's gone. Maybe it's because I have nobody to talk to, or that I feel like I have a lot of free time, but I put everything away all the time and never lose my keys. I say it's because when he's home, I want to just hang out with him rather than clean.

Or, at least what I'm sticking to. It's still all me. Weird.

5. Nobody around to judge me

I totally stole that from @schmutzie, after I saw this tweet.

Oh, let's face it. We all have guilty pleasures that we curb when even our spouse is around. Without John here I have no difficulty indulging myself more. I have enjoyed glasses of wine, more chocolate, trashy TV, and more. Which can be a good thing and nothing to worry about but after awhile, when the jeans are a little tighter than before I realize that perhaps the indulging should be maybe a little less often.

This list kinda makes being at home solo sound like it's a treat and maybe it is, for a night or two. Months on end, not so much. Personally I'd rather have John around to talk to and laugh with than control of the TV or the blankets to myself. You can't have it all, right?

Maybe I can work on the keeping the house cleaner thing, though.

Hepatitis C: Not Just For Drug Users

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Wed, 28 Nov 2012 07:22:00 +0000

This is part 2 in a series - you can go back and read part 1, and how long it took John to get diagnosed, here.

The doctor's office is quiet and empty at this time of day. I don't usually visit this tiny branch of our doctor's practise, far at the end of the Sunshine Coast but today I'm here, sitting quietly, because after finding out that John indeed has hepatitis C, I need to know if the same virus is lurking around in my blood cells, wreaking havoc as well.

It's unnerving, wondering if you have an illness. Every ache, every pain, every sneeze, you wonder.

"Don't tell anyone," he said. "I don't want gossip to spread. People think Hep C is a dirty disease, that only crack users get it, and I'm not a crack user. People get weird when you're sick. Trust me, it's better they don't know. "

"But you don't have anything to be ashamed of." I couldn't imagine not being able to talk about this, of being cut off from the very people who may be able to lend support when we need it. "Nobody?"

"Friends are okay, but don't say anything publicly." A double life will be tricky. I'm not sure I can pull it off. It's hard enough to see Anne have to watch her husband battle terminal cancer, but now he's sick too and I can't say anything? What if I'm sick? What then?

The why drove us crazy at first. John is not a risky guy and we couldn't understand how this could possibly happen. With further research, we discovered that there are a lot of people in the baby boomer age group who contract this disease and don't even know they have it. Hepatitis C is often without symptoms for years, so it can sit quietly and nobody will know. Tattoos, blood transfusions, improperly sterilized dental equipment, needle stick injuries, improperly used health equipment, and more can transmit hepatitis C. Even something as benign as using someone else's toothbrush or razor can pass the deadly disease.

John's job requires him to enter crack houses, and it's possible that somewhere along the way, he was stuck with a needle or came into contact with something. It's the only possible explanation that we can think of. What we DO know is that he contracted it shortly after we moved to the Sunshine Coast and for years, it sat in his system, quietly invading his body.

A nurse comes and takes a bunch of fat vials of blood, and I think about how they realized John had Hep C in the first place. A total fluke, really. The technician wasn't even looking for Hepatitis C, but then recognized it in his blood around the same time the puzzle came together in my head. Now they were discussing treatments, trials, and waiting. There are different kinds of Hep C, and fortunately, John has the kind that responds to treatment best. He also has very little liver damage, which is hopeful.

If there can be good news to having Hepatitis C, this is it. The doctors advise that he takes the treatment. It's brutal, they warn. Some people don't make it through. The drugs are similar to chemotherapy, and will wipe you right out. It's best if you take the time off work. for the 6 months it takes to do the treatment. I was fortunate. Despite 8 yrs of living with an infected person, I didn't have Hepatitis C.

I think about how parallel my life is with Anne, again. We have spent days talking about how to take care of our sick menfolk, and now she gives me advice on how to deal with the nosy people in the grocery store. Sechelt is a small town and John's illness hasn't gone unnoticed, despite our attempts to keep quiet. People are asking Kevin at school if his Dad has cancer.

"We should have cards made up, just for the times when something inappropriate comes out of someone's mouth," she laughs so hard that we are left gasping for air. "It could say something like, "Did you REALLY just say that?" I think that would be brilliant." I'm far more inappropriate and suggest sayings like, "WTF?!" Soon we sit, hands practically clamped over out mouths, trying not to laugh lest we be booted from the shop for being too loud.

"Really though, you find out who your friends are," her eyes turn sad. "Some people don't talk to me anymore. Or they give you really stupid advice. Eat more asparagus. Like as if eating a fucking can of asparagus is going to cure cancer."

"How's your stomach?" I gesture at her, my brow furrowed. "What's with the vitamin water? You never drink vitamin water."

She rubs her belly carefully, deep in thought.

"I don't know, it's never been the same since we went to Hawaii. Remember that? I think I had an intestinal blockage. They think it's just from residual damage when I had cancer years ago. Radiation would do that-just fry everything, right? Anyway, it's bothering me still, now and then. But, you know I'm fine." she waved her hand cheerfully and steered the conversation back to her garden and the bears which invaded the bird feeders recently.

I was all too happy to allow Anne to steer the conversation from herself, as we both threw ourselves into caring for 'the menfolk', as she called them.

Oh, how I wish now that I had paid more attention.

The Two Year Mystery Illness

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Wed, 28 Nov 2012 05:28:00 +0000

We sat in the café, sipping tea and watching the sun explode into colors over the ocean. This was our Friday ritual; tea, sometimes a scoop of brightly colored gelato if the week had been especially hard, and always conversation.

“I can’t believe how parallel our lives are,” Anne would sigh and look out the window at the water.

It’s impossible to tell you the story that I’ve ached to spill on my blog for the past two years without including Anne. Despite all my connections on Twitter and through blogging, this one was kept quiet-only mentioned in direct message or email, never actually put in print for public consumption. Late at night when my brain would spin situations larger and scarier than I dared to say out loud, some of you would talk me down from the ledge, soothing me with your kind and encouraging messages so that I could sleep.

Anne soothed me most of all, by sending emails, photos, recipes, and weirdly enough, she was the only person who really understood what we were going through because, as she pointed out, our lives were so parallel it was bizarre.

Things began a few years ago when John began to inexplicably gain some weight. While it seemed completely benign at first, because it’s common for people to gain a little as their age, for my usually fit and active husband, it was odd. Over a period of about a year, he somehow put on 70 lbs even though his eating habits didn’t change at all. I assumed that he was just getting older, a little less active, and it was nothing serious. Oddly enough, just as suddenly as he began to gain weight, he began to lose it. At first, we thought this was fantastic-he’d been trying so hard to get rid of those extra pounds! Neither of us could figure out how this was happening since he still ate the same as he did before, but who wants to complain when you are shedding pounds, right? But this? This was different. Past the stage where one just looks good, John's weight plummeted to the point where you could see his ribs, and it just wouldn't stop.

The phone call came from work in the spring; not really sure if he had a minor heart attack or something else, John had gone to the doctor and a short time later we were at St. Paul’s in Vancouver, having him evaluated.

It’s the fact that he had cryptococcal gatti, we reasoned. The fungus had gotten into his arteries, and one was weakened a bit. When he was stressed, as he often is at his job, it would begin to flutter.

Next came the surgery, and bruises. The slightest bump on his arms would turn into angry red spots that took ages to heal. They started off small at first, but soon John’s arms were covered in them and occasionally a bruise would even split open and bleed, dripping blood down his arm. Back and forth to the doctor he went but each time, they came back with a seemingly plausible explanation. At first, I clung to those explanations, hoping that possibly there was a simple fix.

“Anne, it can’t be cancer. I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s cancer.” She reached across the table as we both looked out to waves lapping on the shore.

“I know. I don’t know what I’ll do if Scott’s cancer is back either. We’ll do it. We’ll get through it. Whatever it is.” She slipped me shortbread for the next trip to the doctor, to keep our spirits up.

Countless sleepless nights, tests after more tests, days spent in Vancouver at hospitals while we both ferried our husbands to doctors, Anne and I hoped and prayed they’d be okay while trying to keep each other from cracking. She would retreat to her garden, trimming and lopping the trees by her house, while I hit my kitchen and began cooking in earnest. I never let him see me cry; tears were for late at night when he was asleep on the couch, when I was driving to work, or in the shower. Be strong, Karen. They had to be okay.

They just had to.

Finally in November 2010, things came to a breaking point. We went to the doctor for another test and as I sat in the car, I finally really saw John for the first time in months. So frail and thin, hunched over, old looking, even his skin was grey, the horror finally dawned on me that something was horribly, horribly wrong. His adrenal glands were swollen, he had developed diabetes type 2, and was obviously very unwell.

The doctors continued with every test you can think of, as they hummed and hawed and threw out some kind of diagnosis, but then said that the other symptoms couldn’t possibly be caused by that, so they continued to put John through test after test, some painful and horrible, others not so bad. At one point I phoned our GP and literally yelled at him, saying that if he didn't find out what this is, and find out soon, I'd have a dead husband and that is completely unacceptable.

Finally, the revelation came to me in a Science 9 class, of all places. The kids were studying biology, and talking about how the systems are all related and what can happen when something isn’t working right. Right there in the midst of teenagers, bits and pieces of symptoms that had seemed like a giant puzzle suddenly clicked together, and I knew without question what it was that had been making him sick all these months. We called the doctor, there was another test or two, and weirdly enough-I was right.

That Friday like clockwork Anne and I met for coffee and marvelled yet again at how our lives seemed to be so similar and yet, still different. Her husband had been diagnosed only a short time earlier with cancer. While John didn't have cancer, his illness was still very serious.

Instead, my husband had hepatitis C.

Make a cheese plate with Castello Cheeses

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Mon, 26 Nov 2012 09:00:00 +0000

Awhile ago, the fantastic folks over at Castello cheese sent me a bunch of coupons so that I could try various cheeses made by Castello, Dofino, and Tre Stelle. I buy these brands of cheeses all the time and was happy to branch out and try ones that I've never bought before, and let's be honest; cheese is awesome. What cheese will I buy? What will I do with them? What kinds of cheese will I be able to find? I had so many questions, but once in the deli section at my local grocery store, the hardest part was deciding which cheese was the best to buy.

After much deliberation, I picked up some Castello Reserve, blue cheese by Castello, a havarti by Dofino that I have eyed before, and some Tre Stelle ricotta. As soon as I arrived home with the bag Kevin met me at the door, ready to dive in immediately. I held him off until Sunday morning, when I finally set the cheese out to photograph.

left to right: Castello Reserve, Dofino Havarti, Castello Blue cheese

The first cheese we tried was the Castello Reserve. It's a firmer, stronger tasting cheese, with a bit of bite to it. I think it would make a great addition to a cheese plate as a bolder flavour and I loved to just nibble on it with veggies or even with a glass of sherry after dinner. Next, we dove into the havarti. I've always loved havarti's creamy, mild flavour and it often makes an appearance Christmas Eve with our annual appetizer spread. Dofino's havarti doesn't disappoint. It's rich and creamy, ready to be cubed up and paired with some grapes or apple slices.

Blue cheese often scares people off. The idea of mould in it, along with the strong flavour, often is something people either really love or hate. Kevin and I love blue cheese! Crumbled in salads, on its own spread on crackers, we have no problem nibbling at a large wedge until it's finished. Castello makes a variety that range from really mild to more strong, and we've often bought them whenever a recipe calls for blue.

The ricotta cheese, which we couldn't really eat on a cheese plate like the rest, was spooned into lemon pancake batter, fried up in butter, and then slathered with blueberry syrup. Ricotta is a fantastic cheese that I often use in pasta dishes, but these pancakes are rich and perfect for a special occasion, such as a Christmas morning breakfast. Rich and creamy, the ricotta added the perfect element to the pancakes and gave them a wonderful savoury flavour.

While you are putting together a cheese plate over the holiday when you are entertaining, Castello has some wonderful new cheeses available in their Alps collection. I encourage you to try them!

Weissbeir: A buttery cheese with a faint bitterness and a hint of nutty sweetness. It is great for sandwiches, perfect with grilled vegetables, and delicious with your favourite white wine.

Chiantino: A mild and slightly sweet cheese with hints of dark chocolate, fruitiness and dryness of Chianti. It is perfect as a snack with olives or baked figs, and is great for melting recipes or with green asparagus.

Classic Cheese: This cheese has a slightly smoky aroma, and a spicy hint of mountain herbs. It is best served with freshly baked bread or full-bodied red wines.

Hirten: This cheese has a slightly sweet caramel overtone with hints of pine. It goes great with sweet foods such as figs and chocolate, and is perfect for sandwiches with spiced ingredients.

Keep an eye out for these great options when creating a cheese tray, which can be a nice way to end a meal instead of something sweet. With a nice glass of wine and a bit of fruit, it makes for a fantastic dessert.

What kind of cheese is your favourite? Let me know in the comments!

Castello cheeses sent me a lovely package with coupons to spend $25 on cheese, as well as a fun beer mug to write this post. However, I've bought cheese from this brand many times before and am quite a fan of their products. Thank you so much to Castello cheeses!

Food Revolution Friday: Fill Your Food Bank

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Fri, 23 Nov 2012 06:24:00 +0000

If you've followed Notes From the Cookie Jar for awhile, you know that hunger is something I'm really passionate about. What inspired me to get involved with food revolution was a boy without a lunch, because while we we want to be sure kids at school have something healthy to eat, it's important to make sure that they eat at all.

This time of year is important for Food Banks in Canada - the donations gathered usually carry them through into the new year. With about 900,000 people accessing Canada's food banks in the last year, the need is great and you can help out so many ways in your community, why not lend a hand?

JRfm has partnered with BC Food Banks with Basics for Babies, which focuses on the smallest food bank recipients, by collecting things like diapers, baby food, pablum, and formula

CBC is hosting an Open House and Food Bank Day December 7th, where you can drop on by their Vancouver location and meet on air personalities, get a tour of the newsroom, and benefit the food banks of BC.

Don't forget Kraft's Food for Families, where you can sign your name, every day, and every single time you do Kraft donates $.50 to the food bank of your choice! You don't have to leave the comfort of your living room, and still make a difference.

The Beat Cares Holiday Toy and Food Drive is also December 7th, at Superstore on Grandview Highway from 6am to 10 pm.

What are the most needed items you could donate to the Food bank besides cash?

-peanut butter
-brown rice
-whole wheat pasta
-canned meat, like tuna
-canned beans
-canned vegetables
-canned fruit
-cereal (low sugar)
-pasta sauce
-formula and baby food

While it may be tempting to donate something that you consider a treat, keep in mind that people need the most nutrition for their buck, so make it stretch with peanut butter and cereal! There is also demand for gluten free items, so if you have some gluten free things they would be much appreciated. Check with your local food bank to find out if you can donate fruits or vegetables, as some have the fridge and/or freezer space to take them as well.

Whatever you choose to do, toss an extra can or two in the Food Bank collection bin. If we all do a little, imagine what a dent we could make in hunger this holiday season.

My Kid Gets Scrambled

noreply@blogger.com (Scattered Mom) — Thu, 22 Nov 2012 09:00:00 +0000

Some time ago, I talked about Kevin learning how to cook and explained that he was taking an online foods class. Many people wanted to know how that worked. His school has some sort of set up with a culinary program that does online courses, which is really cool on one hand, and the course material really is top notch. The recipes, however, are a little over the top for a beginner, so I'm getting him to cook things that are a little less complicated and don't use ingredients such as truffle oil or a rack of pork.

This week, Kevin learned how to make scrambled eggs.

First, he learned that you need to chop the green onions really tiny. Nobody wants a big hunk of green onion in their scrambled eggs.

He tried to tell me he failed at cracking eggs, but none ended up on the floor or with a gazillion bits of shell in them so I consider that a win.

Next, the trick to really good scrambled eggs is to cook them low and slow, stirring as you go so that they stay creamy. He couldn't get over how fast they actually cook.

Lastly, you can never have enough cheese, because cheese just makes everything better, right? Especially on scrambled eggs with pan fried potatoes. Don't add the cheese too soon or it will just cook right in. You want pockets of melty cheesy goodness.

The finished product was so delicious I actually volunteered to do all the clean up. I think he may have just found my comfort food weakness.

Next week, he learns how to poach an egg, which is something I've never been able to do without the egg sinking to the bottom and leaving residue on the pan that I have to chisel off. Any advice on how to avoid that, besides using non stick? By the way, if you are interested in the recipe for those scrambled eggs, hop on over to Chasing Tomatoes for all the details.