Notes To Self

                                               

I have once again morphed into my mother. I   am not talking about the  classic mother-isms my sisters and I heard,  such as, "When I was your age and the dinosaurs were stomping around..." or better yet..."Wear clean underwear in case you are in an accident." :insert eye-roll:

Nope, I am talking about writing friendly little reminders to none other than...ahem... myself. You see, my husband and I have been joking around lately how we can not remember anything unless we write it down.

Which reminds me...

I can remember it all oh so very clearly...It is 1977. I am a Senior in High School.  My alarm clock  goes off at 6:30 a.m. I trudge into the bathroom and lo and behold, this seventeen year old self-absorbed teenager,finds annoying yellow post-its all over the bathroom mirror.
Honestly Mom, do you really need all of these post-it's all over the mirror? Now I only have a small square of mirror, ugh! It did not end there in the bathroom. Downstairs in the kitchen on the cabinets, on the counter tops, on the kitchen faucet for goodness sake! More post-its!

"Return library books" "Make out check for field trip" "Garage sale this Saturday at Elks Lodge"

Here it is 2011. I  have been using Post-it's for years now.   

Who knew these handy little notes would make such a difference in my life! The mornings are a lot smoother when I am greeted with messages written the night before I go to bed. It is like having a private secretary kindly reminding me. "Liz, don't forget your  yogurt for lunch."

I have stacks of these Post-it's, 100 in a pack, 4 x 6 and some are even lined! An added plus! 

Mom would  love these! Hmmm, Mother's Day is around the corner...

What's Cookin'?

As much as we all enjoy my husband's eggplant cutlets, I was in the mood to try something
new. I found a recipe on-line and with a few of my usual alterations, I concocted a tasty meal
for four.

EGGPLANT ROLLATINI

Two medium eggplants, ends trimmed

2 Cups Part Skim Ricotta Cheese

2 Cups Part Skim Shredded Mozzarella

1/3 C. Seasoned dry bread crumbs

1/4 C.. Grated Parmesan Cheese

1/4 C. fresh, chopped basil

dashes of oregano, garlic powder, pepper
bits of fresh parsley

1 jar of marinara sauce

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1.  Pre-heat oven to 350F.

2.  Cut eggplant lengthwise into 1/4" thick slices.

3.  Place the eggplant in a microwaveable bowl and heat @ 4-5 minutes/until tender.

4.  You can use papertowels or clean kitchen towels for the next step: Place the eggplant slices in a single layer on towel. Place another towel on top and press out excess moisture from eggplant.

5.  In a bowl mix Ricotta, 1-1/2 C. Mozzarella, bread crumbs, Parmesan, Basil, spices until blended.

6.  Place @ 1/3 C. of mixture down center of eah eggplant slice, Roll up, Place seam-side down in greased  13 x 9" baking dish.

7.  Cover with sauce, sprinkle remaining mozzarella on top, garnish with parsley.

8.  Cover with aluminum foil and bake @ 30 mins./ till boiling

      I posted three pix (below) before heating them up! 

Every Picture Tells A Story Don't It?

How many of you recognize that line from Rod Stewart's song? I remember hearing it on the radio many years ago, but I never really paid attention to all of the lyrics since I was not a huge fan of Rod's ~ sorry about that Rod ole chap...but I did enjoy the chorus and  would scream along with that rhaspy voice of his.

 I called my Mom a couple of weeks ago to catch up and see how she was doing. We engaged in our  routine conversation of questions & answers concerning her health, my family, the weather, and of course re-hashing old memories. I was surprised when she  asked me if I knew who Rod Stewart is, and I said sure, I remember a few of his songs and how he "went disco" in the eighties and didn't he just become a Dad again at the age of 70 or something? She went on to tell me the gossipy details and mentioned she and her friend, John, were interested in purchasing tickets to see him perform in Boston.

After I got off the phone,  I typed, "Every picture tells a story, don't it?" into Google. I found  the lyrics, and read them. Of course, what jumped out at me was the chorus, and I  burst out laughing. For some reason, I  flashbacked to the 1970's. It was the first day of school, and time to pose for the obligatory "first day of school" photograph. 

 I recall it was a very warm September morning. I was fourteen or fifteen and did not want to deal with this stupid ritual  My two younger sisters and I absolutely did not want to deal with Mom's photoshoot. We protested to no avail, making faces, and squinting into the sun, while being  told to smile!  After we endured what seemed to be hours of torture, she was satisfied with that one great picture for "First Day of School: 1974"

I am posting the one photo I am sure she was not thrilled with, but I am so glad it has survived.  Every picture tells a story, don't it?

Asbestos Hands

I love to cook! Okay, a little too much emphasis on the love part.

Let me re-state that comment: I love to cook  on my terms, and my terms only! 

I am one of those kitchen tyrants that believe in the mantra, "Too many cooks in the kitchen spoil the broth." Don't get me wrong,  I positively gush with enthusiasm when our family is pitching in  to create a fantastic meal., in fact I encourage it! (Except for when my husband adds a little too much of this and that spice...)

Unfortunately, as I am cooking,  I tend to get anxious over  the dreaded clean up time. It stems from the wise advice of a former neighbor, nearly twenty years ago, and much to my family's chagrin, I adhere  to that advice.

You see, when I was a young stay at home mom, I enjoyed cooking, and especially trying elaborate new recipes. My main complaint was the gigantic mess that did not magically disappear on its own. Add that to the dreaded bewitching hour...if you are a mom you know what I am talking about. I had a three year old and a baby to contend with and dinnertime is prime cranky time  Even back then I had to pick and choose my battles Obviously the kids were priority so the mess remained...till later.

So, what is this advice I speak of? It is relatively simple:  " Clean up as you cook."  Yes, that is  it!  Done with that mixing bowl?  Wash it out NOW while the  pot of  whatever is simmering on the stove. Are you done sauteing  the onions and garlic? Then wash out the iron skillet! Why oh why let it all accumulate when you are zapped of energy from a long day at work?

One night after frying up chicken cutlets for my famous chicken cutlet parmigiana,  I grabbed the iron skillet, and immersed it into scalding hot water. I was racing the clock to get as much mess cleaned up before actually eating dinner, when my husband came over to the sink to rinse off his hands (yes, he was helping, too) "Ouch!, he exclaimed with a couple expletives thrown in for good measure. "Why do  you always make the water so hot?"  Our kids were in total agreement with him,about how desensitized my hands are to heat. "Just call me "Asbestos Hands", I blurted out. That cracked everyone up including myself. 

Well, tonight Asbestos Hands can take it easy. A  big pot of  homemade chicken soup was prepared yesterday, so this evening will  be a relaxing one...until later in the week when the pot needs to be washed.

Sleep is a place to go...

I had big plans for today. The first being, sleep in late! Considering I have great difficulties mastering the art of a decent night's sleep, it is a constant on my "To Do List."
 I stop consuming caffeine by two p.m., I take a nice hot shower at 7:00 p.m., lay out my work clothes before bed, and retreat to my cozy nest of pillows and blankets. Book in hand, I read till my eyes tell me to stop. I aim for 10:30 p.m. and yes, I make a trip to the bathroom before  turning in!

Here's the thing; I have no problem conking out! I awaken three to four hours later and it is as if I just took a nap! Eventually I do fall back to sleep, but it is certainly not a blissful slumber. The soothing music of my alarm
reaffirms it as I fumble for the off switch.

I  realize most of my troubles are due to a myriad of  disturbances which are entitled LIFE. I know and have been told by family that I do not know how to shut my brain off, and I am the first to tell you, yes, I do obsess about "stuff."

And before you tactfully  ask, "Well, errr, you are 51, could it be contributed to *gasp* menopause?" Ding, ding, ding...I had the blood work done recently, and it came back normal. Honestly I do believe hormones must be a contributing factor, so pooh to the lab results!

 Whoever said things always  look brighter in the morning,  you are so right!  I shall tip my mug of chammomille tea  your way and bid you a good night's sleep as well!