2 large green peppers, halved lengthwise
1 pound ground beef
1/4 cup onion, chopped, 1 1/4 ounces
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 cup tomato, chopped, about 2 ounces
Salt and pepper, to taste
4 ounces cheddar cheese, shredded
2 ounces cheddar cheese, shredded, for topping

In a large pot, bring about half a potful of water to a boil. Add the peppers and boil for 3 minutes; drain. In the same pot, brown the hamburger, onion and garlic. Drain the fat and stir in the tomatoes and seasonings. Cook until the tomatoes are hot; remove from the heat and stir in the 4 ounces of cheese. Put the pepper halves in a greased 8×8″ baking pan and fill with the meat mixture. Sprinkle the extra cheese on top, if using. Bake at 350º for 20-25 minutes.

Makes 4 servings
Can be frozen

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If you read my previous post about my tiny dog, and other things, you may recall that poor Shenzie has had a rather eventful month, starting on the 15th with a tummy bug, then having her spay surgery on the 20th.  Well, our Vet, Tracy Green, whom I greatly esteem, routinely orders 10 days of R&R after the spay surgery.
Which is nice and all, and positively the right way to go, but…how to explain that to a puppy whose favorite activity involves being very … how shall I put this…ACTIVE!  Shenzie and Coconut PLAY HARD ALL DAY LONG. Whew.  Sorry for all that shouting, but there is no other way to convey the intensity of doggy ADHD around here.  It’s over the top.  And they never quit.  I end up forcing them to take breaks by physically segregating them.  Sometimes I put all the dogs, (and lo, there are many) each into their own crates, and declaring nap time.  And because they have all worn themselves out, (and worn me to a frazzle in the process)  they dutifully lay their doggy heads down on their desks and take a good long nap.

Anybody else remember that foolish sentence in gov’t schools uttered by gullible teachers across the land?  ”Everybody lay your head down on your desk, I’m going to step into the hall for a moment, I’ll be right back.”

Anyroad, those of you with math skilz and a lively brain might have noticed that 20 + 10 = 30, and Shenzie’s surgery taking place on the 20th, add ten days, today’s date being the 30th, ergo…

IT’S PLAY TIME IN THE  RUMPUS ROOM!

And yes, during the writing of this post I had to get up from my comfy seat at my desk to segregate dogs.  Whatever.

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Shenzie, my tiny dog, came down with a tummy bug.  Yes, now that my kids are all old enough (in theory) to make it to the bathroom, or at least to know when they need to be carrying an empty popcorn bowl around with them, the dog enters the scenario with her powerful, awful, pitiful, chaotic illness.

I tried to pass it off as just one of those things.  But as the week wore on I realized that she wasn’t gonna just get.over.it.already.  So, when we woke up Saturday morning to a crate full of stink I called our vet and got her seen.  They ran some tests and pumped her full of fluids and medications.  Got her re-hydrated and medicinally plugged at both ends.  I love our vet and her staff.  Miracle workers of the highest order.

Shenzie, while worn out from having been to the vet (for whom she has NO admiration) where there were many other canine patients that day, (most of whose tails outweighed my poor, tiny, debilitated puppy) spent the rest of that day napping and adamantly refusing to take her medicines without force.  Her recovery was swift, and complete.  By Sunday afternoon it was clear that she was her old self again.  Which was terribly good timing considering that she had another appointment with our vet to have her spay surgery Monday morning.  What an eventful week for our little house elf.

Shenzie’s surgery came and went without a hitch, unless you count another round of adamant refusal of the pain meds, seriously.  I had to make her lick it off my shirt.  Dogs!

Tuesday’s visit from my best pal and her kids was just the diversion I needed.  We had a wonderful day, and if you’re at all curious what we ate that day click here.

Wednesday I was exhausted from all the cheer, merriment, and glee of the day before, so I took the day off to watch movies with my kids.  And around noon I noticed that what I had thought was just a tight, sore, shoulder muscle must be a pinched nerve.  By 4 o’clock the pain had escalated to the point that I kinda thought I might be having a heart attack.  So, I called John, who offered to come home post haste.    I jumped right on that idea.

When he got here I asked him to take me to out to the E.R.  It’s like a date, only for old people.  We sat in the E.R., in various parts of the E.R., holding hands and gazing at each other through misty eyelashes. (see? it’s a date) I was injected, inspected, detected, infected, neglected, and selected.  (Bonus points if you know what song I just quoted) (and that would be a confession of how old you are too) (just sayin’)

And finally, after being questioned about everything in my life from political affiliation to alcohol comsumption, I was provided with some heroine.  Only there at the E.R. they make you call it morphine.  8 milligrams of horse.  Lordy, let me tell you, here’s the deal on that particular drug.  It makes you only care about one thing, and one thing only.  WHEN WILL THEY GIVE ME ANOTHER DOSE OF SMACK!?!?!  Yeah, I vaguely recall smarting off to one of the docs, when asked, AGAIN, if I had any drug or alcohol problems, that, “Well, no sir, not until today, but now I’m thinking of taking up morphine as a habit, can I have some more please?”  Yes, I did, I made a hardened E.R. doctor do a nervous giggle.  (see?  I’m a fun date, huh?)

The rookie-doctor-lite standing next to him thought it was funny, and as a thank you for my wit and sharp sense of humor, he wrote me a scrip for Percocet, which, while not nearly as profound as the black tar, it is reasonable at managing the pain, but not the napping or the crying.  See?  The Morphine makes you totally NOT care about stuff, and the Percocet makes you cry about needing a nap more than you need to do all the things you didn’t care about back when you were riding the horse.  You know, the house work, the laundry, the enormous piles of dog hair lying about the living room, caring for and feeding the brood, those things that a mom cares about when she’s not… medicated.

So, to sum up.  The dog is no longer ill, and will never procreate.  I did not suffer a heart attack, but might be pondering a life of addiction if I had the first clue how to procure a steady supply of hospital grade smack… y’all know I’m kidding, right?

So, today we enter day three of the pain, and my fight to quell it with medication while not ruining my life and the lives of my children in the process.  Nothing is simple in life.

Tomorrow is Joe’s 17th birthday, last Monday was Jake’s 15th birthday, which will both be celebrated tomorrow with much playing of airsoft, followed by a swim/basketball party, including mass consumption of grilled meat and tortilla chips.  I see a store-bought birthday cake in our immediate future. Pretty sure I’m gonna consider myself a guest at this party, even though it’s at my house.

For clarity’s sake, I’m fine, I just have a severe pain (for no apparent reason) in my shoulder.  And, I’d like to point out, my kids are getting old.  And these two are pirates #3 and #4.

And here, just to save time later.

Yes, I realize this post is a little disjointed, it’s a legit writing style.  And I took a pill before writing it.  How does one end a blog post anyway?

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Ha, did you see that?  I implied we operate on a schedule.  Cute, huh?

Anyway, we have started having  a twice monthly fellowship with one of our favorite families.  One time at their house, the next time at ours.  So we only host once a month.  Awesome planning, right?  Anyway, they live really far from us, about an hour each way.  Because of the travel time involved and the fact that we really wanna spend most of the day together, these get togethers involve lunch.  And because we both have a zillion kids (she actually has two zillion) and neither of us is actually MADE of money, we need to cook lunch for the teeming horde.  And I found out yesterday (our turn to host) there needs to be a big after-swim snack. Next time I’ll bake brownies and buy the giant tub of ice cream.  Yesterday the poor pitiful kids had to eat carrots and celery sticks with homemade ranch dip, bananas, raisins, and peanuts.  Sad, right?  But, today’s post is about cooking lunch.

The cooking of this lunch needs to be done before the company arrives so that we don’t impinge on the visiting (read: talking our faces off trying not to be so enthusiastic as to become rude) time. So, because of that the cooking should be done ahead of time, and really, all that visiting (if you’re a kid, read: swimming, jumping on the trampoline, riding the zip line, playing basketball, and talking your faces off with no regard for rudeness [in a fun way]) will tire us out so completely that lunch needs to be prepared in such volume as to be enough to feed the horde AND be supper for the host family, because NOBODY will have any energy left once company leaves.  Isn’t my friend a genius, this part of the planning was her idea, I jumped right on board!

Last time, at her house, she prepared Stone Soup.  See?  She’s a genius.  Not only was it a delicious lunch that fed the horde AND was enough for her family’s supper, it was a great reminder for her littles of the book they’d read and all the other fun they had doing their Five-in-a-Row-esque activities during the previous week(?) month(?) whenever.

Our turn was yesterday.  And because I have canned-cream-of-whatever-soup issues, I have to make my own casserole recipes.  Here’s what I made.

Macaroni and Chicken Casserole

• 2 lbs elbow macaroni
• 4 or 5 chicken breasts, cooked and cubed ( I had a bag of chicken that John had grilled on Saturday.)
• 4 cups frozen peas (Toss them in the pot with the pasta near the end of the boil time.)
• 4 oz. diced pimentos
• 1 batch white sauce with 1 lb grated cheddar cheese added (cheese optional)

Topping

You’ll need these amounts for each casserole pan.

• 1/2 stick butter
• 1 1/2 cups topping (I used cornbread stuffing mix because that’s what I had.  You could use cracker crumbs, corn flakes, bread crumbs or whatever.  Or you could skip the butter and just top it with cheese.)

Make the white sauce and melt the cheese into it.  You can season the sauce however you like.  I used chicken bouillon, garlic, herbs de Provence, and parsley.  Cook the macaroni, drain.  Add everything else, up to the white sauce.  Stir in the sauce, plop it into 2 – 9×13 pans and cover with foil.  Refrigerate until an hour before lunch (or supper).  Preheat the oven to 375.  Bake, covered for 30 minutes.  Take the foil off, melt the butter, stir the stuffing mix into the butter, and sprinkle it over the casserole . Pop it back in the oven for 5 minutes.

Simple, easy, delicious!

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http://www.happy-mothering.com/04/household/recipes/natural-remedies-master-tonic-recipe/

http://recipestonourish.blogspot.com/2011/10/master-tonic.html

Each recipe is a little different than the next, and instructions vary a bit, but the big picture is easy to discern.

I made some of it.  I think it’s a 1 gallon jar.  My photos are in my tablet and I don’t yet know how to make the magic that transfers them to the desktop.  Sorry, I’m NOT really a teenager, although I usually play one at Whataburger.

What was I saying?

Right, I made the Master Tonic and posted a photo of it on Facebook, thinking that when 2 weeks had passed I could just look back and be reminded of the date and all would be well with the world.

HA!

NOT AT ALL!

That’s not the way Facebook works for me.  Facebook hides pertinent information and only recalls trivia like photos of that grumpy cat.  Ok, well, I have a blog, duh!  I just need to start posting (ahem, re-start), and keep track of stuff here.

So, here I am, blogging again, and do you know what?  I looked at my StatCounter account this morning and it showed me that on Wednesday, the first time I’d posted anything in a goodly while, I had over 100 hits that day!  I’ve been absent and neglectful and y’all have been very patient!  You make me happy!  You girls are the greatest!

The Master Tonic I made (I had to hunt and hunt, and finally found the photos on my tablet, with the date) was made on April 8th (pretty sure).  So it should be good to go.  And I have a sick kid to try it out on.

I had Andrew take a dose of it yesterday, and today he’s back at work after being out all week with a icky cold.  Impressed?  I don’t know either, but it’s a nice way to start the experimenting!  So I had him take another dose of it this morning before heading out to work.  He was reluctant this time, having tasted it yesterday and all.  It’s strong!  I took a dose of it yesterday and thought it was delicious!  But I put horseradish sauce on everything, so I have different taste buds.  Grown-up taste buds. Taste buds that appreciate the KICK that the Master Tonic delivers.  IN SPADES!

I’d read that some folks use the fermented veggies to marinate meat in, I can totally see that.  I think that would be marvelous and I think I’ll just put my strained, fermented veggies in the freezer, 1 or 2 cups to the baggie, and use it for that very thing.  Or toss it in the crockpot with the chicken.  Wouldn’t that be glorious!

So, what is your experience with Master Tonic?  Have you made it?  Have you used it on sick people?  Have you eaten the veggies on your chicken?

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If this doesn’t describe you then you probably have no interest in reading the rest of this post.

Anyway, in no particular order, here are the things I beat myself up over, almost daily.

I ought to:

• Read my Bible more.
• Exercise.
• Spend more time teaching my kids everything, including math!
• Train these dogs.
• Read aloud more.
• Read more.
• Keep a cleaner house.
• Smile.
• Be pleasant to be around.

And here is the flip side, stuff I ought not to do:

• Over-eat.
• Eat empty carbs.
• Worry.
• Read thrillers and zombie apocalypse garbage. (keepin’ it real here)
• Sit around doing nothing (yes, I mean facebook).
• Think mean thoughts. (again with the reality)
• Watch tv.

Yeah, well, OUCH! And this is just off the top of my head.

I have a reason for telling you this.  I need a written record of what progress I make/fail to make.

I was looking around in my DailyMile account this morning, and there is a record there.  Not a lengthy one, but still, it’s very motivating to look at, and try to make it look good, and the only way to do that is to exercise and eat right and blah, blah, blah,  or else lie about it, but that isn’t an option.  Anyway, it’s nice, good, helpful to have a record of what I’m up to.  Now, I’m off to create some new categories for this post, and hit publish, then get off my do nuthin’ and go teach some math!  Leave me many encouraging comments, please.  (See? See me ask nice?  Like a good girl.) (I try.)

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We’re using the ever popular, brand new, free for all comers,

Easy Peasy – All in One Homeschool

And we love it!  Without reservation!  It’s for me, and I hope it always will be!

I’m using it for Caleb and Rachel who are both about to have their birthdays and will be, respectively (*more on that later), 13 (seriously?), and 10 (going on 30).

Why, Lord, why did you let my baby grow up so quickly?

Jacob will start using Easy Peasy soon.  He’s been busy with other pursuits.

Today we’re on Day 7.  This is the first time in YEARS that we’ve followed a plan that I didn’t construct and let me tell you, I LOVE THE FREEDOM! Sorry to shout like that, but y’all, this is so cool.  I don’t have to do anything except utter the following words, “Kid, go do school.”  And the kid goes to the computer and commences to learn important things.

If you don’t call your child “Kid” then your mileage may vary, and you probably don’t listen to Alice’s Restaurant by Arlo Guthrie often enough.  I’m listening to it right now, while blogging, with my headphones on, while the kid is in the next room, on the computer, learning important things.  (Hmmm, listening to Alice’s Restaurant, and admiring it so much, like I do, is making me wonder right now, if maybe this could explain my appreciation of r.u.n. o.n. s.e.n.t.e.n.c.e.s.?)

The other kid is in the kitchen emptying the dishwasher.  The rest of the kids are at work with their dad (what a guy!)

So, what was I saying?

Respect, that’s what I was getting to.  Remember the * earlier.  Respectively, being a form of the word RESPECT.  This is the whole reason I sat down to talk to y’all here today.

This morning I was reading all of the 4 blogs included in the whole 4 Blogs, 35 Kids conglomeration of blogs, and I came across this previous post on Smockity Frocks.  And it spoke to me.  It spoke to me loud and clear.  Actually, to be precise, the scripture she noted spoke to my heart, revealing my sin that I have been trying to pawn off on my children, who, make no mistake, are heinous sinners, just like me, but, I know that I’m not the example I COULD BE, and therefore… well, y’all probably already know what God has to say about leading children down the path of destruction.

Convicted.  I am.

So, here we go.  Ephesians 4:29.  I went straight to my computer to print it out and decided to add an image of a cactus as a visual reminder for me, of my natural ways.  I’ll post the first one on my bathroom mirror, and the rest will be placed in likely spots, like the fridge and maybe all the other bathroom mirrors.

Anyway, go read what Connie has to say, and leave her a comment.  Join in if ya wanna.  I know I surely do need it!

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Last Saturday (November 10th, 2012) Blaze woke from a nap on the couch, with a whimper and a limp.  She began carrying her right rear leg, and was obviously in pain.  We did what most sensible folks would do, and just kind of ignored it.  Hoping it would resolve on it’s own.

Sunday morning she was worse, not eating, not drinking, even when I put the dish of water right under her nose.  She would only walk if she was on leash and we made her, the rest of the time she just laid in her crate looking miserable.  I offered her ice cubes, she loves ice cubes.  No deal.  Wouldn’t even lick ‘em.

We continued to act natural, doing the normal things.  People go to church.  Dogs rest in crates until we return.  When we got home I was glad to hear Blaze barking at us from her crate as soon as we hit the door.  She seemed more active, even used the poor, sad, hurting leg a bit.  After her walk, I took her on my lap and offered her some ice, which she was happy to see.  She still wouldn’t eat anything, until I got the peanut butter out, then she decided that was worth the effort.

I was so happy to see her eating and drinking, even if it was only ice and peanut butter.

Monday morning was another disappointment.  She was listless, and obviously in pain, she wouldn’t look at food or water.  So I called the animal clinic and got an early appointment.

It took Dr. Green about 2 seconds to find the problem.  Luxating patella.  Or as us rednecks say, a wonky kneecap.

Seven days of doggie Heroin and doggie Motrin, and tiny doses of people Pepcid (because of the tummy upset that Motrin can cause) and lots of rest and restricted activity, and we have our old dog back.  She’s back to her old self.  Same activity level, same everything.

However, while I was at the animal clinic AND while I was on the phone with Dr. Green a few days into treatment, there was talk of a doggie orthopedic surgeon, and pins being required, and a surgery that may cost $1,500.

Now, lets all take a minute and a few deep breaths while we ponder the concept of not really having pet medical insurance, and surgeries that cost serious money, for a DOG.  Yes, this is MY DOG, and I love her dearly.  BUT, that’s some real money.  And we really aren’t the kind of people who spend THAT kind of money on a pet.  BUT, here’s the stinker, I have that kind of dog.  For me it’s a dilemma, not so much for my hubs.  Fortunately, we didn’t have to have that actual discussion.  Not for real.  We talked a bit, but it was speculative, because the dog got better without the surgery.  I realize this is the type of thing that will likely happen again, but we aren’t that far down the road yet, and that gives me time to start setting aside money to make Blaze into a bionic doggie.

Anyway, for now, that part of our lives is done.  Last week is history.  Hallelujah!

Now let’s talk about cats.

Our first country cat, Patsy, disappeared under mysterious circumstances.  The local coyotes might have been involved, but we just don’t know.

Our second country cat, Lucy, died of extreme old age.  She was >15 years old.  She was old when we got her, but she had a happy retirement here with us.

Our third country cat, George, has now been missing for 2 weeks.  I suspect the coyotes.  George was our favorite, by far.  He was a sweet kitty, a good hunter, and playful with our dogs.  Sad to see him go.

We’ve decided that we’ll just not have a cat for the time being.  We reserve the right to change our minds in the Springtime when everyone we know will have kittens to get rid of.  We’ll see.

Anywho, pet-wise, I’ve had more than my share of stress lately.  So, I did what I do best.  Had a nightmare about it.

My dream life is usually very entertaining, and this time is no different.  I’ll get right to the bad part.

We lived elsewhere, in town, and were getting ready to move, again.  Blaze had gone missing and we expected foul play.  You have no idea how sad this part was for me.  I was extremely relieved when I drifted into wakefulness, realizing it was a dream.

I really have no sense of what order the events took place in the dream, and I don’t think it matters, but there were cats.

In dreamland we still had a cat we’d had years and years ago, her name was Muffin.  We also had another mystery cat, who was a tabby.  Then, we got a kitten, an orange tabby, about 7 weeks old.  So, while I’m sitting there petting the new kitty, I realized that our old tabby was not much bigger that the new kitten, seriously small for an adult cat, baby kitten sized.  It was weird.  So I called our vet.  Now, let me tell you right now, in real life Dr. Green has NEVER EVER said anything weird to me, EVER.  But in the dream, when I asked her about this adult cat who was still the size of a 2 month old kitten her response was, and I quote, “Yes, this happens sometimes, but usually the cats turn out to be DEMON-POSSESSED.”  (me: !!!!????!!!!)

But then I woke up, and my Blaze is still here, and still walking on all four legs, and we still have no cat.  I’ll take it!

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Exercise has been difficult this week.  Monday was a typical Monday, meaning, exercise would be a bummer on any Monday.  Then on Tuesday I had a doctor appointment.  Got there to find out that I’d left home most of what I was supposed to bring.  My Kindle, my blood pressure records that I FAITHFULLY write down twice/day, can’t remember what else right now.  Anyhoo, my doctor had to take maternity leave due to complications.  I should be concerned for her, but no, it’s ALL ABOUT ME AND MY INCONVENIENCES.

I liked the interim doc ok.  The whole reason for the appointment was to see how the Singulair has been working for me.  The verdict on that deal is NOT AT ALL.  My sinuses are awful.

New doc wanted to prescribe Zyrtec, but I know from past experience that Zyrtec makes me take a nap everyday.  And since I already am taking a nap everyday because I can’t get a decent night’s sleep (due to my sleep apnea) there’s no need to try the Zytec.

So he prescribed Allegra.  I’ve never tried Allegra before.  The doc said the only next step, if the Allegra isn’t the answer, is to get allergy shots.  Can you say “NO WAY”?  Drive in to town every other day for who knows how long?  Not happening.  So, I’m giving the Allegra the old college try, even though I dropped out of college, but that’s beside the point.

Now, Allegra is making me so tired I don’t even feel up to checking my email, much less exercising, or eating, or showering, or going anywhere, or watching tv, or reading a book, or pushing the easy chair back enough to kick out the foot rest.  EXTREMELY TIRED.

I’m forcing myself.  I feel like my adrenal glands are on vacation.

I did my exercise yesterday and today.  2 miles each day.  That’s 4 miles of walking with NO ENERGY.  Think how good I’ll feel if I quit taking the Allegra that’s supposed to make me feel good.  Too tired to think that thru.  Or type the whole word “through”.  (forcing myself)

I think I’ll have to start keeping bees so I can have some SERIOUSLY LOCAL honey.  That would do my allergies a world of good.

While I’ve been typing this I’ve been pondering my pitiful predicament (sorry, we watched Mr. Popper’s Penguins yesterday), and pondering is the kinder, gentler method of thinking, isn’t it?  Anyway, I’m just gonna ditch the Allegra and start using the neti pot, and then I’ll have the energy to research bee keeping.  It’s something John and I have long wanted to do.

Ok, that’s all the grumpy I got for now.  Hasta la vista, baby!

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