Sep 16, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
My mom and I and Dot are all pretty close. Three generations of women living in close proximity (don’t forget the five female felines!). Mom lives alone, just down the street, but we’re at each other’s house often enough. We talk every day, often. Our houses even have the same floor plan, but reversed. (That explains why we zig when we think we should zag.)
It’s pretty hilarious when I call my mom and we both have the same topics in our heads. We both want to make mac-n-cheese on Saturday. We both watch the same news, listen to the same music (Charlie Rich, Jimmy Dean, and Sinatra… now that’s music!). We both order the same QVC kitchen product, at the same time. We both have the same ideas about home decor, although her theme is Country Spring and mine is Coffee House Autumn colors. Even some of our furniture is the same (she likes white, I prefer dark mocha colors). Not all of this is planned. We just like the same things. We just have the same views on life. We are distinctly different, and wonderfully in sync.
Now, I’m not saying we’re identical. She won’t go to Disneyland with us. I don’t read the papers like her. She doesn’t rock out to the Backstreet Boys and I’m not too successful at gardening. We don’t spend every single moment together. She kicks me and Dot out of her house when she’s tired, and I send her packing when it’s time to watch “Friends” with my daughter. We do separate and have our own lives. We just share them with each other. A lot.
My mom’s turned into my best friend. I wouldn’t be who I am without my Mom. She instilled my love of words. I can’t remember her not reading to us as children, or giving books as toys.
I remember once when I was about seven, she came home from the store and gave my brothers toys. Things they could play with, interact with. And I got a Golden Book, something about a puppy. I was so upset. You can’t play with a book. You can’t make it climb things like a stuffed animal. You can’t build with it like Legos. And so I cried.
Until Mom came over and opened the cover, and asked me to read the first page. Aloud. Without realizing it, I had been swept into a world of saving the puppy, or the puppy saving something else, I forget. What I do remember is the feeling of freedom. While my brothers were confined to the physical attributes of their toys, I had the whole world in my hand. I had an adorably soft little critter who looked at me with his tiny eyes. I had the power to help him on his page-turning journey. I had imagination. I went to sleep that night holding my book. I dreamt of the puppy and our adventures together. The next day, I took out my stuffed animals and reenacted the story.
Indeed, my Mom gave me much more than words on paper that day. She gave me life.
There is no greater thrill I have then my mom’s daily phone calls after she’s read my blog or whatever other writings I’ve sent her way, and to hear her say, “You did good today.” It’s those little backpats that make it worthwhile. Because while I write because I can’t not write; and I write because I was born to write; it’s not her approval I’m after. It’s because I love her and the way she raised me that I write, and try to write well. I’m proud of my mom. I love my mom.
And this is my way of returning the world to her. This is my way of saying, “Yes, I can be the person you raised me to be.” This is my way of letting her know she did good, too.
Thanks, Mom. I heart you.
Sep 15, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
By now you’ve probably sensed a theme about my recipes: I like ’em cheap, easy, and slow cooked.
Slow cookers are a beautiful invention. I’m particularly thrilled with my new “original slow cooker”, an authentic Crock-Pot. A Crock-Pot is different from other slow cookers, in that other slow cookers typically sit atop a hotplate that in and of itself can be used as a pancake griddle on Saturday mornings. A Crock-Pot encases the pot, usually a removable stoneware that acts as its own serving dish, albeit hot, but ultimately easy on the clean up. Once the stoneware has cooled when removed from the heating element, it can fit in the fridge. The next day you can warm up your leftovers by taking it straight from fridge to Crock-Pot and setting it to “warm”. Since it’s already cooked, there’s no need to turn it on “high” and risk cracking your dish (although I hear that’s hard to do, yet another reason to love the original Crock-Pot).
For a few months, I’ve been wanting to try my hand at making BBQ Pulled Pork. Lo and behold, my new Crock-Pot came with a basic recipe! Of course, being me, I first tried their recipe. Then I had to make it my own. And here it is.
BBQ Pulled Pork can be enjoyed on buns as a sloppy joe-type sandwich, on rice or pasta, or mixed in with veggies. It’s even a great topping for BBQ or Hawaiian pizza. My 3-lb. roast was enough for 12 buns plus some leftover meat to add to a rice dish. Now that’s a good deal!
INGREDIENTS:
3 – 4 lb. pork loin, trimmed of fat
1 bottle (18 – 24 oz.) BBQ sauce
1 bottle (12 oz.) beer [I prefer a dark lager] [Substitute 12 oz Coca-Cola for a sweeter tang]
2 medium onions, chopped
Place pork loin into Crock-Pot. Cover with onion then BBQ sauce then beer/cola.
Cover and cook on low for 9 hours. Remove pork and shred with forks. Put pork back into Crock-Pot and mix well with onion sauce. Serve as desired.
Sep 14, 2011
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
In honor of Disney’s re-release of it’s 32nd animated film “The Lion King” this Friday, I found this writing I did in February, 2009. Enjoy!
*** *** ***
“Rise and shine, and give God the glory, glory…” (Old children’s song)
I looked up “Glory” in Vine’s Concise Dictionary. This is just a sampling of the offering: Glory, Beauty, Ornament, Distinction, Adornment, a Crown of Glory (rank), Improper Pride, High Status, Speaking Honor to Someone… Wait. Go back. Improper Pride? That seems so out of sync with the others.
What exactly does that mean? “Improper” denotes something that is inappropriate, inaccurate, doesn’t belong in the setting, doesn’t apply to the situation at hand. “Pride”, on the other hand, signifies a high opinion of oneself, the feeling of being the best, splendor. It also means a group of lions.
Is it possible to get a word picture from this? Now, I’ve seen “The Lion King” far too many times. Scar was definitely improper! Simba was a young, misguided cub led astray; but we all know in the end he claimed his rightful place to carry on the leadership of his father. Could this be us?
I was once a Simba, convinced that my actions had taken me away from the love and comfort of my Family. I had let Improper Pride control my thoughts and actions, and chose instead to run from my mistakes. In the end, I had to choose to let them seek me out, to bring me back, just as Nala did for Simba. I would not go willingly, and there were some “friends” by my side who did not want to let me go. My Nala fought to bring me to the Truth. My Rafiki hit me on the head, just as in the movie, to knock some sense into me. And then I realized. I could go back. I must go back. It was my calling. My duty. My show of respect for my creator.
I called satan (Scar) out, confronting the lies he told to me and about me. It took work, a lot of work, but my Family was restored.
To this day, my heart aches with “what if’s”. What if I had forgiven them earlier? We would have more good years together. What if I had listened to God earlier? I would have learned so much quicker. What if I had forgiven myself? There’s the torture. And the blessing. Because I did forgive myself. For all things. For the hurts I caused myself. For the hurts I caused my family and friends. For the hurts I caused to those who are now reading this in love (thank you for your forgiveness!). For the hurts I caused to my Lord. And then I had to forgive myself for feeling guilty about waiting to forgive. It is a breath of fresh air when true forgiveness comes to us. The weight of anger, sin, and manipulation, is taken away. The world is new, vibrant, beautiful. It is Glorious. And just as the sun rises each morning, I must seek forgiveness each day. For each day holds new-ness. A new view. A new attitude.
Is the glass half empty or half full? Neither. Because “my cup overflows” (Psalm 23:5). Even in the presence of our enemies, God prepares a feast for you and me. He is always with us, no matter where we go, what we do, who we are. He will always place around us those who He will use to keep us close to Him, and when we stray, to bring us back to Him.
Simba was never really alone, even when he thought he was. Look for your Nala. Look for your Rafiki. Give them the blessing of being there for you. Allow them the privilege of being with you on this journey of life. And try not to go your own way. There’s safety in numbers.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make your paths straight.”
(Proverbs 3:5-6).
Yes, I’m a Disney fan. It goes to show that God can use anything to get His message across.
