Jan 6, 2013 |
I admit, when I wrote my Meal Plan post, no matter how intensely I want to prove the worth of The Unemployment Cookbook, a tiny part of me thought I’d cave and order a pizza or grab a hamburger for lunch within the first week.
It’s not that I want to deceive anyone. But I like fast food. It doesn’t always agree with me, and I’ve learned to order without onions or special sauce when I need to. Yet now and then, I really enjoy my flame-broiled red meat. And if I found a few extra dollars in my wallet, … read the rest. . .
Oct 27, 2012 |
We spent the day with the Second Family at one the great local attractions: Frazier’s U-Pick Pumpkin Patch.
It’s refreshing because there aren’t a lot of farms in the So Cal desert. We have to drive a distance to get to the Orchards. Entering the gates at Frazier’s is like entering a different climate.
The large fields offer quite the selection of pumpkins. It’s almost like a Dr. Seuss book: Big, Small, Short, Tall, One or Many, Take Them All.
This time of year, it’s a booming business. With their amazingly affordable selection, there are pumpkins for everyone.
It is, … read the rest. . .
Nov 3, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
It’s a new month, which means a new Thursday Theme for my recipes. Since November tends to bring with it an abundance of busy-ness and activities, I thought perhaps Party Foods would be nice. Simple recipes you can make for gatherings, potlucks, open houses, or just because!
Today’s recipe was inspired when I took my daughter to visit family in Las Vegas about five years ago. We stopped at a snack bar and I delighted in this wonderful blend of Italian flavors, seasonings and salty pretzel goodness.
Since we had no such snack vender back … read the rest. . .
Apr 16, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
I met Robin H. today. A nice man, a little bit older than myself, beautiful eyes… and a world’s worth of hurt behind them.
Robin is homeless, and very much ashamed of that fact.
I was eating outside at a pedestrian mall at the Mission Inn when I saw him, discreetly looking into the tops of trash cans. His clothes were ill-fit; not that they didn’t belong to him originally, but the “him” they belonged to must have been at one time, long ago, much heartier.
My daughter and her friend were enjoying a pizza … read the rest. . .
