Draft 2021

Pumpkin pancakes with homemade blueberry syrup Last night while talking about what we both had on tap for today, I casually mentioned to my wonderful husband that it would be nice to have pumpkin pancakes for breakfast. He had a busy day planned, including a 30-minute drive to help and learn at a small local brewery. Imagine my delight when I awakened to smell not only freshly brewed coffee - my salvation! - but the enticing aroma of pumpkin pancakes. Oh, and these pancakes are so delectable. They are whole grain pancakes with a hefty dose of our own homegrown and processed butternut squash. Over the years I have found butternut squash to be much more flavorful than small pie pumpkins and use butternut in all recipes calling for pumpkin. But then there's the homemade blueberry syrup! I canned it last summer from blueberries we had frozen the year before, and it is so darn good! Just perfect on these pancakes. My husband had to dash out the door for his brew-ha-ha before I was awake

About to cast on project #3,259 Nothing makes me happier than starting a new project. Well, maybe ordering supplies for a new project. Or a big box of yarn in mail... It's hard to describe a fiber addiction to those who don't share the love. My husband, for example, likes to ask me what I plan to make when I show him my latest fiber acquisition, failing to understand that while the right project may come along, the yarn itself has spoken and must be had. I'm kind of like a yarn collector, purchasing glorious handmade yarns and sumptuous llama/alpaca/wool/mohair combinations simply for their beauty. Does a fine art collector have to justify her latest Van Gogh or Rodin? A wine enthusiast his latest Bordeaux? I think not. My yarn collection, fondly referred to as a "stash" in professional terms, now occupies several vintage cupboards purchased specifically to house it. Each skein is lovingly crammed placed on worn wooden shelves, carefully protected with lavender s

Beautiful day in Iowa We're just coming to the end of a spate of unseasonably warm weather in central Iowa. Iowa winters are typically gray, cold, and unpleasant. But lately the days have not only been warm - hovering near 50 degrees - but sunny. A couple days ago I walked on a trail in Ankeny while my daughter was in class and it was truly beautiful; the kind of day that dares you to be unhappy.

Dinner and a show So the other day I opened my email and surprised to find an offer for discounted tickets to Kinky Boots . A quick check with the husband and we were Broadway (in Des Moines) bound. It was a great show and a fun night out. Kinky? Sorry, this is the best I could do. I guess you'd call my style "utilitarian."

Blueberry pie. Is there any happier pie? Apple pie is homey and comforting. Pumpkin pie evokes fall leaves, cool breezes and thankfulness. Rhubarb pie is spring with all the promise of the seasons to come. Strawberry pie is summer, sweet and juicy. Pecan pie signals decadence and a devil-may-care attitude. Cherry pie is tart and intense, a serious pie. But blueberry? Blueberry is sweet and tart, juicy and, well, easy as pie. But blueberry pie in January can't help but invoke a smile. Pass the vanilla ice cream please... I'm having pie!

Access to high quality medical care makes me happy! It's no secret that my family suffers from more than its fair share of mental illness. And without therapy and modern medications all of us might not still be here. So last year when our insurance company began requiring that all long-term prescriptions be filled by an online pharmacy, I was dubious. I was also a little angry, as we had a local pharmacist who would help us with insurance company issues, prod slow doctors into issuing refills, and answer any questions we might have knowledgeably and with an appropriate dose of humor. Plus I liked the small town feel of being greeted by name whenever I came in the store. Well, no more. Admittedly, once the initial hassle of verifying prescriptions, clarifying the verifications, and verifying the clarifications was complete, the inconveniences were mostly small annoyances. But pity the poor fool whose prescriptions are not stable. And that poor fool just happened to be my son. He'

Today's happy was definitely our homemade pizza! It's one of the quickest, easiest, yet most delicious meals and we make it almost weekly. A few years ago I started making the crusts from whatever Healthy Bread in 5 Minutes a Day dough I have on hand. Often I mix up a double batch of dough and make crusts to freeze. Each recipe makes 3 or 4 crusts and freeze beautifully. Just roll them out and prebake for 8-9 minutes, cool, and freeze. We use frozen pesto or a red sauce made from oven dried tomatoes - both homemade with summer bounty. A little sauce, some cheese, and other desired toppings and dinner is ready in a flash, with very little cleanup to boot. Last night I was pooped, so Michael made us two fabulous pizzas using ingredients that were on hand and only needed a quick zap in the microwave. The pizza pictured above had pesto, parmesan, fresh mozarella and feta. Our second pizza had sauteed mushrooms and a sprinkling of sausage along with parmesan and fresh mozarella. Se

My daughter has a horrible cold. And Floyd is not amused. With each tissue she pulls from the box, Floyd roars his disapproval. Each sneeze? Roar. Cough? Roar. And forget about blowing her nose. Make any untoward noise and Floyd will let you know - in no uncertain terms - that your bodily blaring disturbs his quietude. And he knows you're only doing it to bother him. Because he's beautiful. We've gotten so used to his remonstrations that any stray cough or sneeze is usually followed by a "Sorry, Floyd." Goofy cat. He makes me happy.

My daughter came home from a university trip to Cyprus and Greece to find her room totally redone. We ordered her a new bed, found a funky old dresser/cabinet, and upgraded her lighting. But best of all, we surprised her with freshly painted walls and trim. It looks fantastic and she was thrilled. When I walked past her room the contrast of these pom-pom flowers against the blue-green of her walls was stunning. Today the simple beauty of our everyday made me happy.

Today I volunteered at the local library. There's not a lot to the "job" - basically I supervise a special homework room from 3-5 p.m. once a week. It's a nifty room with laptop computers, a color printer, and other school supplies that some kids, especially in my oft-neglected urban neighborhood, might not have at home. I log onto the computers, sometimes do some other simple work (stamping "withdrawn" in a cart full of books, for example), make sure kids stay quiet and on task. Oh, and I'm also supposed to answer the occasional question. Well, try to answer questions. Today's inquiry involved geometry, never my strong suit and especially not 30-plus years after I took the New York State Regents exam and nearly passed out. I can't remember my geometry teacher's name, though I think it was Miss or Mrs. Gaines, maybe? That year my schedule was such that I couldn't take the honors level math most of my peers were taking - 3D geometry, I bel

Today my best friend is my pillow Ah, nap time. That glorious time of the afternoon when I manage to stumble up the stairs and fall like the dead into my bed. Perhaps a more accurate description of this interlude would be "rest time," as sleep isn't really required. My body melds with the mattress, craving surcease from the relentless strain of having to work so dang hard just to hold itself together. Thus is one of the many realities of Ehlers Danlos Syndrome ; extreme fatigue. Fatigue has a different quality than sleepiness; it overtakes my whole being, making each step a long slog through deep, wet, mouldering mud. Fatigue becomes my master and is not to be disobeyed. The ridiculously warm weather of the past several days - highs near 50 in Iowa in January! - afforded a great opportunity to start walking outside again. But walking is very much harder on my body than the recumbent exercise bike, and every time I resume my outdoor treks after a hiatus, fatigue mocks my o

I was just thinking about how much I love clementines. Then I realized I don't have any memories of eating them when I was a child. Hmm. That seems weird. Well, apparently not. According wikipedia, the market for clementines didn't evolve in the U.S. until 1997 when the Florida orange crop was devastated by bad weather. Huh. You learn something new every day. I've been on a clementine kick of sorts, eating 4, 5, or even 6 of them each day for the past week. While I love oranges, they are so much more trouble - more difficult to peel, to section, etc. Plus until I get another cortisone injection in my bum thumb, holding the orange tightly enough in my left hand really hurts the joint. Today I peeled a 4 clementines for a snack, stacking them in a little bowl. They looked so pretty and seeing them sitting there in all their sweet, juicy goodness made me happy.

So I've decided to participate in 100happydays.com , partly to live more mindfully on a daily basis and partly to get myself to start using my camera again and to blog. The past couple of years have been quite difficult at times, hence the radio silence here. But now I'm ready. Ready to embrace life to it's fullest. To recognize the "happy" in my life and document it. My youngest daughter and I "arted" together. Actually, she created art and I colored in a coloring book. I did use fancy pants colored pencils, however. And doing this simple activity really did make me happy.