Change is good right?

Well it's been a week since I posted, and not that anyone else is reading this or that it is public or anything since I am "computer blonde" but here I am again..  Tonight I was just thinking about all the changes that are happening in this world and in life.  My third daughter gave birth to a pre-mature son 8 days ago.  February 13th.  It was a unique situation since I had given birth to her 9 weeks pre-maturely almost 26 years ago. (May 14, 1988).  It changes your life.  And just like her, he is extremely jaundice and has the same blood disorder that their father did and all four of my girls did.  Sadly, there is nothing that can be done as it is genetic.  You learn to live with it and eat what you must and avoid what you must and that's that.

Change.
When I was younger, I would get sick with a cold and my grandmother, who lived with us would make an "onion soup".  This was a soup that was really just onions caramelized and then added to a broth.  Mind you it made me gag when I was a girl.  I hated it.  It stunk up the house and I refused to eat it and was force fed many a spoonful on the supposition that it was "medicine" for the cold.  Now, I love onion soup.  That wonderful deep brown beef broth mixed with those thoroughly caramelized onions and then topped with a thick slice of French bread with a thick melted slice of mozzarella cheese.  It is amazing and I will order it almost every time I am able in a restaurant.  Saying that, last night and the night before, there was some cooking going on in my house by others and the smell of the onions with their garlic and butter nearly took my breath away.  I had to sleep with two fans on me.  The smell filled the house and the garlic, while overpowering was only a distant memory by the time you inhaled the smell of the sharpness of the onions.  How then can I love them cooked to pieces and hate them raw?  The composition of them changes.  And they become something that they were meant to be.  Now I know people who eat onion sandwiches and dice up or slice up raw onions on EVERYTHING!  But that's not me.  I would rather have them transformed into the near translucent perfection that clings to the dipped spoon in a hot bowl.

I like the change that is wrought when we put an onion through the paces and turn it into something wonderful.  Even if it is just onion soup.  The point is, that we need change.  Change is good.  We can only grow if something changes us.  It can be from the inside out or from the outside in.  There is something wonderful that can happen if we but let it.  Much like that onion that has sat in the basket for way too long, we peel off the layers of skin and finally get down to who we are.  We present ourselves sometimes in a way that isn't really truth.  It is a facade.  Much like that "onion soup" that my grandmother used to make.  It was only the beginnings because she didn't know any better.  But with people, that facade hides what we truly want out of life.  Sure there are people out there that are just as good about not hiding but they are usually the ones that aren't afraid to be a little rude and a little uncouth.  However, for most of us, we have these layers of outer skin that hides our fears, our tears, our dreams, and our desires.  In order to move towards a more perfect us, we must allow those layers to be peeled away.  We must allow our inner goodness and desires to come out of us.  Because the change that can happen is, we begin to look for that change ourselves.  We can see what we will become and will reach for it.  I am excited about all the changes that are going to occur in my life in the next 50 years or so.  I do expect, even though now it doesn't always feel like it, that I will live another 5 decades.  I will, now that the layers have been pulled back and the pungency of my core has been revealed, I know now, what I can become.  It is my goal to reach my fullest potential between now and that next 50 years ending.  I will become, what the core of me dreamt me to become.  Yes, change is good.  And I will embrace it.

MockTails?

Today I watched a show on the Food Network channel called "The Kitchen" and one of their segments every show is:  "It's 5 O'clock Somewhere".  This is where they create drinks with alcohol.  There are several shows that do this and it drives me insane.  Sandra Lee does Sit on her show "Semi-Homemade".  Again it drives me nuts.  It feels like these people believe that we, as American's are constantly drinking.  Really?  For years I have created combination drinks.  I've never called them cocktails or mocktails or whatever, I called them "punch".  And so I set about creating unique combinations.  Now, I don't drink, but I love uses wine glasses, champagne flutes, etc.  I think they are elegant and beautiful and classy.  So, I create sparkling drinks that add some excitement. So it doesn't have to be alcohol to look lovely and add to a meal.  I love using grape juices to sparkle up the table.  I will take a lemon lime soda and freeze them into little cubes or balls, I prefer balls, and drop them into the juice.  The juices have to be very cold.  Also, frozen grapes make a wonderful addition to any drink.  I love to freeze fruit period for drinks.  Pineapple chunks, strawberries and blueberries make for a punch that is both fun and amazing and as they thaw, they add a great flavor.  Don't be afraid.  Even frozen cranberries and oranges make a delightful holiday drink served with white grape juice.  It doesn't have to be alcoholic.
So create your own "Mocktails" and enhance even your normal "everyday" meals.  Family is more important than any guest but it's fun to treat them as guests at every meal.

The BIG GAME!!!

I am a sports enthusiast.  I love watching sports.  I love them live and I love them on the TV and I love throwing super bowl parties.  I watch as much of the Olympics as I can and I really do follow certain teams in sports that I love.  I'm very eclectic in my choices I suppose.  But at any rate, I love watching great athleticism. Having said that, I am in awe of the wonder and amazing things that people do to themselves.  Drugs, alcohol, self mutilation, self loathing, self destruction.  I am aware of them all.  I am a victim of two of those.  Self loathing and self destruction.  I don't like my physical form.  I hate it.  And because of that, I have let it become my disability and it has led to a destruction of certain aspects of my body.  Looking back, it wasn't intentional, it was simply a bi-product of my circumstances and of the abuse that happened to me.  It's not an excuse.  It is what it is.  However, I have had in my life one reoccurring poem that always gives me hope.  Yeah yeah yeah, I know, I would do everything I could to turn back the clock.  And I know that reading the scriptures should inspire me to do what is necessary to pull me out of my situation.  BUT  Below is the Poem.  I hope it will remind you that there is always hope.  For all of the hype and fun and everything that goes on around these athletes and how amazing their skills are and how amazing this Super Bowl will be, there is one game that is far more important.  The game of life.  And this life...well, it truly is THE BIG GAME!
The Touch of the Masters Hand
T'was battered and scarred, and the auctioneer thought it scarcely worth his while, to waste much time on the old violin, but he held it up with a smile; "What am I bidden, good folks," he cried, "Who'll start the bidding for me? A dollar, a dollar; then two! Only two? Two dollars, and who'll make it three? Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice; going for three.." But no, from the room, far back, a gray-haired man, came forward and picked up the bow; Then, wiping the dust from the old violin, and tightening up the loose strings, he played a melody pure and sweet as the caroling of angels sing.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer, with a voice that was now quiet and low, said; "What am I bid for the old violin?" And he held it up with the bow. "A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two? Two thousand! And who'll make it three? Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice, and going and gone, said he.
The people cheered, but some of them cired, "We do not quite understand, what changed it's worth?" Swift came the reply: "The touch of a master's hand."
And many a man with life out of tune, and battered and scarred with sin, is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd, much like the old violin. A "mess of pottage," A glass of wine; a game, and he travels on. "He is going : once, and "going twice, he's going and almost gone." But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd never can quite understand the worth of a soul and the change that is wrought by the touch of THE MASTER'S HAND.------Myra Brooks Welch