New Year, New Words

2017 Gold

2017

New Year, New Words

By Molly Jo Realy @RealMojo68

I noticed a trend on social media some years ago. Instead of making expect-to-break-them resolutions, people were claiming colors, phrases or related words to define their goals when a new year came around.

I once Dared to be an Awesome Orange. Two years ago, I pared it down even more to choose one word. Boundaries was first. The next year was Better.

Sometimes it takes a while to discover your personal Word of the Year. Sometimes it comes to you as easy as breathing.

Whether you choose one word or three, or go all-out with a list of resolutions, here are some tips to consider:

  • Set a Journey, Not a Goal: Specific goals, while great, aren’t always met in a timely manner, or at all. This can lead to a person feeling like a failure instead of a success. Rather, choose what will help you grow incrementally.
  • Choose to be a Diamond: You are more than a two-dimensional object. Make your mantra reflect all your beautiful facets.
  • Everything Old is New Again: Don’t be intimidated by the “new” in New Year. It’s okay to enhance what you already know.
  • Can You Relate?: Is your theme shareable? Keep yourself accountable by letting your followers in on your journey.
  • Give Yourself Permission: It’s okay to tell yourself, “It’s okay.” It’s okay to dream, set goals, fail, try again, change, move, and be still.
  • Shine Like The Star That You Are: Whatever you choose, don’t bury it in the sand or under your pillow. Reach your world with your bright light.
  • It’s ALL About YOU: Your resolution/word/mantra should encompass the essence of you and what you want to accomplish in the next twelve months. Adding others to the mix can be a great idea, as long as there aren’t too many cooks in your kitchen.

How does any of this apply to social media and writing? The simple answer: It doesn’t. The complex answer: Everything’s writing. Everything’s social. Your theme should amplify your personality, goals, work ethic, belief system . . . Anything and everything you need it to amplify and grow.

Now, choose your word for the New Year, and hit the ground running.

I’m choosing to be Fierce in 2017. What will you be?

With some sweet tea and running shoes,

~Molly Jo

CLICK TO TWEET: Frankly, My Dear: New Year, New Words. Choose yours & hit the ground running!

Sweet Tea and Running Shoes

Sweet Tea and Running Shoes

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Recipe: Hobbes’ Mexican Chicken Meatloaf

Let’s talk winter comfort foods and family memories. Remember this little teaser from last month?

My Happy Planner: Recipe Teaser

My Happy Planner: Recipe Teaser

That’s right. I’ve been using My Happy Planner for just over two weeks now. Talk about your sweet sauce! I’m tracking bills and budget, appointments, social media sharings, and the greatest of great, holiday gatherings. Of course, the first and most important reason was the great recipe organizer. How many people does this make happy?

I’m pretty sure Jacqueline will try to steal my chili recipe once we get to Blue Ridge. [Don’t tell her, but I think I’ll sleep with it under my pillow for safe keeping. The planner. Not the chili.]

But enough about that. Today, we’re talking winter comfort food. Today, we’re talking easy. Today, we’re talking meatloaf.

I mean, doesn’t the word itself conjure up happy memories of family mealtimes, maybe a potluck or party? Meatloaf is my happy place. I can make it nine ways to Sunday, and then some. And to prove that statement, I intend to give you a dozen meatloaf recipes in 2017. Yup, that’s right. I’m gonna haul my cart over to Winco, grab some grub gear, and make y’all some of the best meatloafs you’ve had in years. One each month. How do you like them apples? Eww. No. I’m not putting apples in the meatloaf. It’s a phrase, people. Just a phrase. Although . . .No. No apples in the meatloaf. Moving on.

Today’s recipe was inspired by my Magic friend, Hobbes. No, he’s not magical. Well, he is kinda special. He’s one of my gaming buddies. You know. Magic: The Gathering. [Yes. I know. I’m a nerd. We’ll discuss that some other time.]

Hobbes' Mexican Chicken Meatloaf

Hobbes’ Mexican Chicken Meatloaf

Hobbes is kinda talented when it comes to building good gaming decks, and since I needed a deck I could assault Aaron with, let’s say I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. He’d organize my cards and I’d let him live feed him properly. Being the overly perfectionist attentive host that I am, I made sure to ask if he had any allergies, and what his fave foods are. He came back with a combination of chicken recipes and Mexican flavors, and also mentioned meatloaf and potatoes. So, voila! [Side note: When I was a kid, I always thought that was viola, as in, a mini violin. Maybe it made a high-pitched screech that got everyone’s attention, and that’s how the word came about? Apparently not. But now you know I wasn’t always the wordsmith I pretend to be present myself as am.]

So. Uhm. Yes. Voila! Say hello to Hobbes’ Mexican Chicken Meatloaf.

Recipe: Hobbes' Mexican Chicken Meatloaf

Rating: 41

Prep Time: 10 minutes

Cook Time: 1 hour

Total Time: 1 hour, 10 minutes

Yield: 4 - 6 servings

Serving Size: 1-2 slices

Ingredients

  • 1 lb ground chicken
  • 1/2 cup (apprx) Fritos chili-cheese chips
  • 1 can (4 oz.) diced green chilis, drained
  • 1 can (14-1/2 oz.) diced seasoned tomatoes, drained
  • 1/2 packet taco seasonings
  • 2 eggs
  • milk

Instructions

  1. Preheat oven to 350.
  2. Crush Fritos chips in small bowl. Add just enough milk to cover. Set aside.
  3. In large mixing bowl, add ground chicken, green chilis, tomatoes, eggs, and 1/4 packet taco seasonings. Mix thoroughly.
  4. Add Fritos. Mix.
  5. Shape into loaf pan.
  6. Top with remaining taco seasonings.
  7. Bake 50-60 minutes.

Notes

Using chicken instead of ground beef makes this a healthier alternative to some other meatloaf recipes. Two eggs will help bind the loaf together for presentation, but doesn't affect the taste. Use just enough milk to soften the corn chips.

https://franklymydearmojo.com/2016/12/05/recipe-hobbes-mexican-chicken-meatloaf/

Did you ever think of using ground chicken instead of beef in your meatloaf? Well, now you have. You’re welcome.

Recipe: Mexican Chicken Meatloaf

Recipe: Mexican Chicken Meatloaf

Dice up a few potatoes, spritz with olive oil and season with dill or kosher salt, and you have a perfect side dish.

And here’s your bonus holiday food hack: Drop a half-cup of chocolate chips or chopped nuts (or both!) into your banana bread batter for a delightful dessert.

Now it’s your turn: What are some of your favorite meatloaf dishes?

And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!

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Losing Lizzie

There’s no good way to start this post. Lizzie Cat is gone.

If you’ve been around the blog for any number of years, you’ll know my home, lovingly referred to as Bedford Manor, is also nicknamed Catford Manor. We had started a column, Life With Lizzie, but didn’t write too much. How could I find time to have her write when I was too busy loving on her?

Lizzie Cat - Welcome Home

Lizzie Cat – Welcome Home

Lizzie was more than a pet. She was a piece of me. She was the reason Egyptians worshipped cats. And while I wasn’t going to blog about our loss, I’ve been finding my outlet ~ and support ~ through my private Facebook posts. I realized so many people feel the same about their FurFamily. Being a nonhuman doesn’t make them any less valuable or integral to the family.

Lizzie Cat waiting while Mom writes

Lizzie Cat waiting while Mom writes

Sure, she didn’t get a say in the family budget, unless it was her catnip allowance. Decorating tips? Rip here, pee there was kind of her Bohemian style.

In the mornings, she would walk me to the door and sometimes I’d feel so sad and guilty for having to leave. In the evenings, she’d welcome me back with a meow and a flick of her tail.

It’s the little things now I’m noticing. How when I do dishes she’s not wrapping around my ankles. When I’m cleaning she’s not following me from room to room. I miss her “Meow-Mom” call from the other room when she wanted me to play with her. I miss her flopping onto my left arm when I wanted to write but she wanted to cuddle.

Lizzie Cat ~ "Mom, are you busy?"

Lizzie Cat ~ “Mom, are you busy?”

I miss her. I miss her deeply. For sixteen years, this cat slept in my arms. Licked my tears. Played with my shoestrings. She loved to nip my fingers and nuzzle my face until I couldn’t breathe. Every night she would climb up the bed, walk across the pillows to her spot. If I was watching TV with my back to her, she’d stay on my pillow near my head. As soon as I’d turn over, she’d move off the pillow. I’d have to lift the covers for her. She’d nudge me, turn a circle, and lay down with her back to me so I could wrap an arm around her. I’d snuggle her up with hugs and kisses, and she’d drape a paw over my arm and push her nose into my hand. And that’s how we slept for sixteen years.

I didn’t know she was sick, although in retrospect the signs were there. I’d been dreaming of losing her. She was moving slower. In the last two weeks she was vomiting.

Last Tuesday, she started twitching, but it was just her tail so I didn’t pay attention. She was on the sofa. I got ready for bed, gave her a pet and said, “Come on.” She usually follows me. I was exceptionally tired. I woke up four times in the night calling for her. She never came to bed. But I couldn’t wake up enough to go find her.

Lizzie Cat on Dot's Bed

Lizzie Cat on Dot’s Bed

Wednesday morning, she was on Dot’s bed. She rarely went into Dot’s room, even when Dot lived at home. That was the other cats’ territory. That room was for Fluffy and Sparkles and sometimes Iris. Lizzie’s territory was my room and the living room. So I went in and loved on her. I laughed and asked, “What are you doing in here?”

It had been a colder night, and the other cats slept on my bed. I thought, maybe she just felt like being alone even though that was out of character. I went to get my iPhone to take a picture. Can’t wait to send this to Dot. When I returned, she was trying to walk. But she was staggering. And I knew.

And my heart sank. And I held her and kissed her and cried. No! No! No! Not my Lizzie! I called my mom. And then I called my boss. I had to get her to the vet. As I was leaving a message for my boss, I looked but couldn’t find Lizzie. I panicked. Did she fall? Was she under the bed? Where was she?

I stepped into the hallway and saw her walking away from the food dish. Walking. So maybe it wasn’t bad. Her gait was slow but normal. Maybe she just had a sore paw. She let me love on her again, her meow was almost normal. I called everyone back and said, “No worries. I’m going to work.”

I worked. I came home. Lizzie was back on Dot’s bed. And once again she didn’t sleep with me. But when I went to her, she purred. She didn’t nuzzle, but she let me cuddle. And on Thursday morning, she purred and flicked her tail and for the first time in two days, her eyes seemed more focused.

I left food and water for her, and went to Thanksgiving.

But we knew.

After the big dinner, I came home. She was restless. Dot’s pillow. Foot of the bed. Afghan. She couldn’t get comfortable. And I couldn’t bear to see her feeling so terrible.

I fixed up the rolling cube that she loved to sleep on. I put her blanket on it, her bear, and sprayed it all with the eucalyptus-peppermint pillow spray she loves so much. I rolled it into Dot’s room and left it by the bed. I snuggled up next to her and she let me stay. Then she stood up and carefully stepped onto the cube. Gently, slowly, I rolled it into my room next to the bed. And we tried to fall asleep.

Lizzie Cat's Last Night

Lizzie Cat’s Last Night

At midnight exactly, she stepped up onto my bed, onto my pillows. She didn’t want to snuggle, but her being on the pillow was good enough for me. I could tell she didn’t feel good, was still lethargic, but she wanted to be near me. Tomorrow was Friday. Tomorrow the holiday would be over. Tomorrow we would go to the vet.

She woke me at 6:30 in the morning. She cried twice for me. I found her on the shower floor, weak, fallen. She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. She had dry heaves. I tried to open her mouth to see if she was choking. She bit my finger, hard. So I called the vet. They weren’t open yet. I called the emergency pet clinic and told them I was on the way. All while trying to get dressed and get the cat carrier ready. In between each call I rushed back to Lizzie and loved on her. I cried with her. I encouraged her.

Then I called my mom. And less than a minute later, Lizzie was gone.

For two days I blamed myself. I fought the truth that it was just her time. And I am reminded, over eight years ago, she was ill, like this. And we took her to the vet. He told us she had an enlarged heart, arthritis, and weakened kidneys. He gave her six months to live. We took her home and loved on her. He gave her six months. We gave her eight and half more years.

Catford Manor is a little darker now. And although I deeply love my other cats, there will never be another Lizzie. I will never get another pet. She was my one in a million. She was my goddess.

I am blessed that I was home with her, that we loved on each other in the last moments. I didn’t wonder or worry. She held on through the holiday itself. She tried for one last snuggle. She gave us a wonderful life.

In upcoming posts, I home to share with you antics of the other residents of Catford Manor, and their cousins Zoey and Romeo.

There is no good way to end this post.

My Favorite Lizzie Cat

My Favorite Lizzie Cat

And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!

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