Hi there! I think sometimes I get so hung up on the recipes that I forget to post about the other things.
Back to School
They left me!
*cue the swooning sofa and the smelling salts* I am so depressed.
After years of home schooling at least one child at a time, they have decided they wanted to go back to the brick and mortar this year.
I am so proud of them, so you’ll have to bear with me bragging a little.
You might be looking at those chirruns and wondering why they all look so different. That’s because they’re all unique characters. The youngest (left) is the fashionista and just started middle school. She’ll drop serious cash on some clothing fabulousness.
My oldest daughter (center picture) is a junior this year and loves comfort over style. She didn’t even bother drying her hair before heading out the door. Good one, Ginger.
My youngest son (a senior. Go seniors!) dresses like this every day and has for a couple of years now. Drew loves history, so you’ll catch him either dressing like a dapper gent from the 1910’s, or he’ll wear a dough boy helmet and other stuff to school. The teachers like it so much he helps teach their WWI units; the kids love it so much, he’s plastered all over the yearbook. He really is a cool guy and he’s not afraid to be who is he is.
My oldest (right) is an awesome dude. He has long, gorgeous hair and loves his prog rock and tie dyes. Don’t let that fool you; he scored a perfect SAT test and is going for his PhD in mathematics. They’re all pretty fantastic, but who am I? Biased. And a mom with amazing chirruns.
But alas, they don’t need my educational stylings any longer.
While I am bummed, I have the dog.
I miss the kids. They don’t chew my socks and roll in elk poop.
What $6 bought me today
Don’t look at me like a coupon whore in need of an intervention. Honeys, this is what happens when you have a rewards credit card and receive quarterly stipends for free groceries.
I have a reward card that I pay off monthly. The result? I score about $800 in free groceries every year. In this economy, while credit cards can be supremely stressful, we keep this one because of the freebies. Here’s more about that card.
Today I bought spankloads of greatness, and I paid only $6 of the original $180 bill!
A lot of those ingredients you’re going to see popping up in recipes this week and next so pay attention. No. Don’t. I’m just kidding. Maybe.
I love the Doyle thornless blackberry plant we have in the backyard.
We’ve had it for years and it puts out quite a bit of fruit. This year, the pickings are slimmer because I haven’t been taking care of it (in Colorado, you actually have to water plants sometimes).
These were ready for picking yesterday. I am not sure what I’ll do with them yet, but they’re huge! Each one is the size of my brown thumb.
Thankfully, they continue to thrive year after year and the dog no longer chews the plant to smithereens.
My Big Fat Lack of Weight Loss
Due to stupid stress and anxiety and denial, I have sooooo been making amazing meals and then have been snacking behind the scenes on naughty things, so I haven’t lost any weight for some time.
Last night I happened to catch (I never watch anything not on Netflix because I forget to watch things) Extreme Home Makeover Weight Loss Edition and was so inspired by the guy on the show last night! He began at 500+ pounds and was able to get into his 200’s within the year–and that’s not even with ketogenic eating!
I thought if someone with that much weight to lose can do that, what’s my excuse?
Doop! I don’t have an excuse. My kids are in school, and, aside from my publishing schedule, there’s no reason I can’t make more of an effort for me. I’ve been taking care of everyone else for so long, it’s time to do Jamie for awhile.
So, that said, I am going to bore you to tears talking about my weight loss and whatnot. You’ll cry and beg me to shut up, but this is me. I likely won’t. I do promise you this: When you cry from having to read yet another account of how my thigh has shrunk one cottage-cheesy inch, I’ll hand you a tissue or some jicama to absorb those salty, salty tears. I’m a giver like that.