Sickness and Health (and a Preview)

I’m not sure exactly how this post will flow (ignore supposed transitions) since I’m going to double post it—both on Joe Average Writer and here on Fatty’s Blubber Blog. The rare few who frequent both sites don’t need to bother with reading it twice. But I guess those of you who are anal enough to do it…can…I guess. I’d just recommend another hobby…or therapy.

Back from the tangent now: yesterday I came back from being on the sick wagon. No, I didn’t stuff myself with too much turkey or stuffing or pie (mmm…pie) or any birthday treats. Believe me, or not, I’ve held my eating in check at the start of this birthday/holiday season. More on that in a moment.

Last Friday night, Sariah got sick in the bathtub. Gross, I know. Then around one in the freakin’ a.m. Zac wakes me up, and says, “Dad, I barfed. Could you help me clean it up?” Give him credit—he wasn’t covered in puke. He even made sure he made it to the bathroom. However, he didn’t quite make it to the porcelain. An explosion of not-so-well-chewed bean with bacon soup covered the entire bathroom floor. The backsplash made it halfway up the tub and cabinets, behind the toilet and up the far wall at least six inches. How he escaped the blast zone without any on him, I’ll never know. And he was too asleep to register anything.

Two nights later Amy and Brooklyn both tossed their cookies (on Amy’s b-day, even), and my stomach started having issues. I must point out here that I never bowed to the porcelain god, but I still offered tribute, if you know what I mean. Needless to say, I am tired of cleaning up chunks of chicken and pineapple and cheese (and bile). And I am tired of not getting much done.

So, to remedy that period of barfiness, and to celebrate my (relative) health, Amy and I have finished the initial version of our independent study course revision, I have turned in the last of my (also pukey) stats homework, and I have been able to do some planning for when my student teacher jumps ship next week. One thing I have not done is work on my NaNoWriMo novel. Yes, say it. I’m bad.

Now, back to Thanksgiving and birthdays and food and such. This year, for the month of December, I am going to post a picture and recipe of “Food That Makes Me Happy.” Yes, you smart-aleck, that could include most, if not all foods. Yes, the title also sounds a little childish, but do you know what? I don’t care. This time of year is one for reliving those cherished childhood memories of Christmas, those indelible moments that will never vanish no matter how hard we try to erase them…oh, I mean, those moments that will bring us joy throughout our whole lives. Now that I’ve cheesed it up enough for you (more, fresh Parmesan or cracked pepper, sir?), here’s a taste of what is to come, because Thanksgiving makes me happy. In fact, it’s my favorite holiday, I think, but I’ll write about that another time. For now, enjoy the picture. I’m not going to give a recipe today. That’s for December.  Just don't lick the screen.  That's gross.

This delectable plate, by the way, includes turkey of both the light and dark variety, real mashed potatoes, yams, sausage and apple stuffing, homemade bread, cranberry sauce, pond scum, gravy, carrots, sweet pickles, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, sweet bell peppers, and black olives. Pie was later.

P.S. I lost six pounds, too.

Squash!

We received quite a few squashes the other week, and so Amy has decided that we need more squash in our lives.  Personally, I don't mind squash.  I think it can be quite delicious depending on how it's cooked.  One of my favorite was to consume the gourd is by marinading it, grilling it, and rolling it in Parmesan cheese.

So, needless to say, we have been eating lots of squash lately.  I'm going on three days in a row.  That's a lot for me.  We never ate it growing up.  I remember the first time I ever ate squash (knowingly). We were on vacation, and my Uncle Brian cooked up a bunch of green and yellow.  My brothers and I had never had it before.  (I think I was about seven.)  They tried it and immediately decided it was the most disgusting vegetable on the planet.  That doesn't say mush as the only vegetables they really ate were corn and cucumbers.

I, on the other hand, was tipped of by my cousins Pete and Jed that tons of butter made them palatable.  They were right.  And that's still the way I eat squash most of the time.  Since then I don't recall having squash at home until the past few years.  The kids ate it out of baby food jars, but we didn't.  It smelled too awful.  Plus, I didn't know how to cook it.  The only time I seemed to eat it was when we (occasionally) went out and it was served with the entree or when we went to a buffet.  Now (Amy and) I can serve it up many ways.

So today, I'm coming out to say publicly that I like squash. And if anyone has any awesome recipes for squash, I'm game.

P.S.  Lunch is a beef and squash (with peppers, onions, and tomatoes) casserole.  Mmmmmmmm!