Monday, March 30, 2009

Crock Pot Macaroni and Cheese - the quest for the Holy Grail

Okay, everyone. HB “put away” my recipe box. He also got me a new computer (bless him) but didn’t move my recipe organizer program over. SO, my wonderful crock pot macaroni recipe is LOST!! Ack!!

Why is it so wonderful?


Plus, it does not contain eggs or evaporated milk (though it might have contained flour, I can’t remember). I have found a hundred recipes online, but they all have these weird ingredients.
I’m pretty sure my recipe had, like, uncooked macaroni, milk, butter & cheese. And maybe some cream? NO COOKING first, as that is what a crock pot is for. If I have to take a pot to the stove, I’m just going to cook, kwim? What is the point of cooking something first and then putting it in the crock pot? How is that supposed to save me time? Lol. It might not be as yummy as the other recipes, but I’d never know, because I’d never make them. Lol.

SO: Do you know how to make crock-pot macaroni with UNCOOKED macaroni and NO eggs or canned milk? If you do, you are my HERO and please email me the recipe!! Please!!

Monday, March 23, 2009


I heard the most amazing thing last night.

I was listening to an old NPR podcast, and they mentioned that Coco (the gorilla) really liked Mr. Rogers. She used to watch it all the time.

In fact, once he went to visit her. When he got there, she immediately bent down and took off his shoes.

I don't know why, but that is so sweet that it actually gets me all choked up.

Could it be the 235 episodes of Mr. Rogers that I, myself, watched?

Comments from Facebook:
Rob Baker
"If you could only sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to the people you may never even dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person." ~ Fred Rogers

From the book 'The World According to Mister Rogers; Important Things to Remember', by Fred Rogers

Dan Troy
I emceed my 8th grade talent show as Mr. Rogers. I sang the neighborhood song and changed my shoes and all that. I received no fan mail from any monkeys, though.

Sunshine Gladish-Cowgill
Dear Mr. Rogers,
Thanks so much for coming to our school! We love your show.
Your Friend,

Thursday, March 19, 2009


Buddhists say that the source of all human suffering is longing.

I have found that to be true. But I have also found that a little longing is delicious.

And like most things delicious, too much is too much.

But a little. Everyone wants just a little longing.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Sundrenched Backyards

The sum of your own experience is only for you.

Your memory, your mind is only yours. You can speak, you can try...but there is no way to convey the experience of your own childhood, your own life.

If the neighborhood kids were friends or merely tolerable companions. The feeling, the angle of the sun in your backyard, if you were lucky enough to have one. Who you thought you were.

If it was painful, then it was. But you are you. Aren't you happy with yourself? I personally would not want to live it over again, it was so perfectly wonderful and flawed. What on Earth could I possibly have done differently? I'd love to add some years, maybe do more, live it another time, do it again but not over again.

As time goes by faster and faster, you begin to realize that your childhood is most of your life. Large and expansive: endless afternoons, hot pavement in summer, buzzing insects, grasses bending in the wind.

And it's all for you to keep.

Remember to see it, to feel it, try to picture it. Try to feel it. It is for only you.

Feel the breeze on your face.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Shoes Part III They sleight me again

Addendum to The Shoe Story.

They were all sooty looking in the front, and frankly probably pretty stinky. These dang shoes had been in the garden and everything, and I was pretty sure they were pretty gross. So I tossed them in the washing maching. Remember, these are CHEEEP shoes, so I expect the insoles to fall out and who knows what else.

What else?

They sleight me again. Those dang shoes come out of the washing machine
* Sparkling * Clean *
And perfect. Like brand new. Like the day they were born. In fact, I think they look better than the day I bought them.

Maybe they look better because they're all broken in and rounded out.

Or maybe I'm starting to warm up to them.