Her pain..I feel

Call me crazy, I don’t care! I once read in TimeLife books, a woman burned her arm and her sister, 30 miles away, felt a similar pain. Well, there was a strong breeze in San Diego and I think it was a hint of Fay. I grabbed the kids and ran in the house. It was a close call! Here is an image of the aftermath.

We are not going to batten down the hatches yet….I will keep you updated. Pray that we don’t lose power.

Mars And Venus In The Kitchen

No one can screw up an entire day of cooking better than me. Seriously, no one. I should have my own Food Network Show. “What NOT To Do In The Kitchen, With PJMomma”.

First I ruined my pumpkin cake, then I went on to ruin everything else. See this chili? Doesn’t it look good? Well it’s not supposed to be chili, it’s supposed to be stew, but I forgot to put the can of tomato sauce in. WOOT! WOOT! I rock.

The cornbread would have been pretty good, but the cornmeal had reached it’s expiration date several years ago.  I think I might have used it for a pizza I made in 1992 and then kept it in the freezer to lengthen it’s shelf life. It tasted freezer burnt.

Even though the kids soundly rejected it, I served it to pjdaddy as “chili” figuring the kids were just being picky as usual. And the few beans I’d had tasted fine to me.

I asked pjdaddy how it tasted and he looked like a cornered animal. I could smell the fear in him.

Look, just answer the question. Is it good or not?

*pjdaddy avoids eye contact

It’s fine. It’s good.

Oh no, hell no. I know what fine means. If I ask him how an outfit looks and he tells me fine, I might as well go naked. Tell me what’s wrong with it so I can either fix it or not bother making it again.

I think if I were to scramble up some eggs and have a tortilla with it, to balance out some of the salt it would taste good.

Ok, so what you’re saying is it’s too salty?

Look, you just don’t “get” me. No matter how bitter and salty it is, I’ll eat it because I know you spent all day making it and you poured your heart into it.

I will confess that actually made me laugh, but I still needed to find out what exactly he felt was wrong with it.

So it’s salty and bitter?

No, no, it’s just salty. And look, we saved $5 by me not making a trip to Arby’s.

Hah, it’s not worth the effort if we only saved $5. And you’re killing me. Why did we have to go through this entire conversation. Why tell me it’s bitter if it’s not?  Just flippin tell me it’s too salty!

We saved more than $5 because I’ll eat it again tomorrow.

No, I don’t want you to eat any more of it if it doesn’t taste good.

No, it tastes fine.

Ok I give up. I’m surprised the deer aren’t lining up in my backyard to have a go at the salt lick I call dinner. I just hope I can cook better today with Elvis Costello.

If any of you are “real” cooks, can you look at this recipe and tell me if it’d still be too salty even if I’d remembered to put the can of tomato sauce in? It seems to me, two bouillon cubes in addition to the envelope of taco seasoning would make it too salty anyways.


  • 2 lbs. rump roast or lean stew beef
  • 1 envelope taco seasoning
  • 1 can (14.5 ounces) diced tomatoes, Mexican style
  • 1 small can green chile peppers
  • 1 can (8 oz.) tomato sauce
  • 1/2 cup chopped onion
  • two beef bouillon cubes or equivalent granules or base
  • 2 cans (15 ounces each) red kidney beans; rinsed and drained
  • Shredded cheddar cheese


Cut beef into 1/2-inch cubes. Toss with taco seasoning and add to slow cooker. Add the tomatoes, chile peppers, tomato sauce, onion and bouillon cubes. Cover and cook on low 6 to 9 hours or until beef is tender. Add the drained beans and cook until the beans are heated through; around 30 minutes. Serve topped with the shredded cheese and other toppings, as desired.

Oh Come ON!!!!

Who had an accident in the bathtub and didn’t tell mommy about it?

Continue reading

Compare And Contrast

Two of my children’s reactions to my tummy tuck and my weight loss.

Garren: Are you going to shrink to be a baby? If you shrink to be a baby you will not be able to take care of us and we need you to take care of us. You do NOT shrink anymore.

And then there’s Madeleine: You still have fat there, there, there, there aaaaaaaand, there.

Course Madeleine has an even better story for me today. I’d been so swollen  that I was looking a bit like a pot bellied pig. I went to the doctor on Friday and he bound me so tight in my brace I could hardly breathe. It worked. My swelling has gone down and as of today, my stomach is nearly flat. Madeleine’s reaction was to tell me that it looks good except for my boobs. “Now they’re giant and they don’t match your tummy.” I’m ok with that.

Painkillers And Turtlegirls

Graham: Mom can I have another granola bar?

Me: Only if you do a duet with the turtle girl.

Graham: Who’s the turtle girl?

Me: The one that lives down the street.

Graham: Mom, what do you mean? There’s no turtle girl. What’s a duet? Can I have a granola bar please?

Poor Graham told me I was getting irritated that he didn’t know who the turtlegirl was. What? I was still in bed asleep when he asked me for the granola bar. And, just to clarify, had taken painkillers the night before.

No One’s Gonna Tell Me What To Do

I wound up staying at my parents house this past week while all the funerally stuff for Danny was going on and for some reason I became the child to my mother again. “Did you make your bed yet?” No. “Did you make your bed yet?” No. “You need to make your bed.”  Would my mother ask a real guest if they’d made their bed? Not on your life. Course a real guest prolly would have made their bed. Stupid brown nosers.

“Man I sure could use a beer Mom.  I’m gonna put some Coronas in the fridge.”

Mom: No, we don’t “let” our guests have more than two beers.

Me: What? What do you mean you don’t “let” your guests have more than two beers?

Mom: Nope, I pour our guests their beer and then another one and it doesn’t even dawn on me to pour them anymore. That stuff gets expensive. And you’ve already had over your alloted amount. (I’d had one and a half beers, 3 hours earlier)

This is when I show my true grown-upness. I show that I can stand on my own two feet and will not have anyone tell me what I can and cannot do. I’m 35 years old. I’m a mother of four. I am  woman hear me roar.

Me: Yeah? Well your perfume stinks!

Oh man, I’m good. I should have been a lawyer.

*sneaks more corona after mom leaves

Miley Cyrus Photo Shoot- What You Didn’t See

hat tip kare-kare by fare-fare