It's a French Toast issue... say what?!?

I have a tendency to read foreign newspapers over our very own American media news outlets. I'm skimming through looking at the various goings on of the world when I come upon an article about french toast in the UK sense. It would seem that most British individuals consider the idea of "sweet" french toast to be an American thing. They gag at the idea of putting cinnamon and sugar on French Toast.  Evidently, ketchup and Worcestershire sauce is the way they indulge.
Here are some anonymous comments to peruse:

Growing up in the UK I only knew eggy bread as a savoury thing - bread dipped in egg and fried. 'French toast' as a sweet dish seems (for the last century or so at least) to be an American thing.

Have to agree: savoury as a duck's arse. And fried in lard. That's the way.

My mum always served it with Worcestershire sauce, scrummy and quick.

Disgusting sweet muck!!! Make it savoury and I'm in.

Sweet? We always had ours with ketchup on...

dessert!? get out.

We used to make this on Guide camp for breakfast, sprinkling crunchy granulated sugar on top and dunking in ketchup! 

Then there were the other versions:

My version is curtsy of a hellish hangover and a nearly empty fridge:
Scramble 2 eggs adding salt and black pepper.
Soak 2 slices of store bought, generic white bread.
pop in the pan and fry in butter until golden.
Plate up and then add a layer on top of last nights leftover chilli (reheated obviously and so very, very spicy).
Grated cheese on top.
This is, without doubt my dirtiest food craving.

Aarggh! I never realised it was supposed to be sweet!
My recipe:
Beat the eggs, add plenty of salt and pepper, a hefty dash of tabasco and a half teaspoon of good soy sauce (eg Kikkoman). Any decent white bread works to soak in it. Fry in olive oil (just a spoonful, and should be piping hot).

Sacrilege!
No sugar.. no spices and no bloody vanilla. A little salt and pepper in the mix which should be a drop or two of milk per egg used. Thirty second soak and fry in a smidge of olive oil in my house.
Serve with lashings of butter.. and if you must, you can have some maple syrup.
 
And then the Canadians piped in...

Hmmm.
The Canadian way is for the bread not to be stale but maybe 2 days old. Just old enough that it isn't soft to the touch.
You beat eggs in a bowl. Maybe add a little cinnamon, but make sure it's wet and doesn't sit on top of the eggs.
You dip the bread just long enough to coat it. DO NOT soak it.
Fry it in a little butter, preferably salted.
Serve with streaky bacon and maple syrup. And Brits look away now....
The syrup goes over both the French toast and the bacon.

I have officially learned something new today... Breakfast food can be the topic of heated discussion.

Just imagining ketchup on my French Toast makes my gag reflex kick in. I think I can appreciate the European savory selections as long as they are "out of sight, out of mind".

I promise....

I'm still here!
I think I have finally found my way out of the funk that seemed to surround me for a few months.
It just seems like I have this massive rain cloud over my noggin and it always rains on my parade.
Enough of the self loathing...

I started stitching again this past weekend! It's kind of crazy... what put me in the mood, that is.
The kids and I had just dropped a package in the mail...

Ok, it was 7.2 lbs, so it wasn't literally dropped. Let me digress for a sec to explain the package. My Li'l Brother is on a deployment and he cannot get oreos and skittles... hence the package. 2 packs of mega stuffed oreos, 2 boxes of graham crackers with peanut butter, a 2 lb bag of jolly ranchers and a 5 lb bag of skittles. Moving on...

After leaving the Post Office, we passed by one of the local cemeteries. I noticed that one of the grave's had a cross that was laying down. It took me a split sec to park the car. The kids were freaked at this time because mom has gone nuts around the dead people. After a little bit of cajoling, I managed to get them out of the car. It turned in to quite an excursion. For at least an hour, we straightened the flowers and flags on graves. My girl also helped me right a grave stone that had fallen on it's face. No easy task, I tell you. We probably didn't even cover 1/4 of the cemetery, so we have plans to return. I'm proud to say my kids had a good time and I told them to consider it an act of kindness. It was a good afternoon.

And thus... an excursion with the kids, a little fresh air with acts of kindness and I'm back to stitching.

Flip Flopping...

I have been debating on changing my name. I kept my married name after the divorce mainly because my babies were still young. My girl may have understood, but not sure about my boy. I divorced when he was going into 1st grade.  I think they will better understand now that it has been a few years. 
I think I also need it for more of a degree of seperation from the hurt and dissapointment. Yes, we get a long much better now, but why should I keep the reminder that I was thrown by the wayside? Or the reminder that I didn't matter?
Geez-o-peet... it sure was convenient. Do I really want to deal with the paperwork hassle? What if I decided to renew my passport? They'll want a copy of my birth certificate, marriage certificate, divorce papers and all that fun stuff. Yikes!
I suppose it will be worth it though.

On another note... I've been too lazy to stitch.
I have begun picking peppers and tomatoes. The watermelons are the size of soft balls and the cucumbers are going crazy!

Gotta love it!!!!

Is there such a thing...

As caring to much?

I'm extremely conflicted.
I'm unsure as to how I need to proceed.
My credibility is in question.

While I have the utmost respect for the individual who has mentioned this, I feel that in turn it makes me look bad. I feel as though in said individual bringing this to my attention that my character and ethical compass are in question as well. I mentioned that this comment made me look bad and it was argued that it did not. Am I making a mountain out of a mole hill?

My inner beast is kept on lock down. She's chained with in a cage with only enough leway to pace. And she paces. She paces everyday. She's only been freed a handful of times in my life and it's scary and exhausting..
She was momentarily allowed to be free a few days ago. I had to go into over drive to keep her reigned in. The best thing I did was walk out.

I have seen the faces of  happiness, excitement and accomplishment.
The faces of pain, sadness and anger.
The faces of war and hidden scars.
I see them everyday.
I help. I lend an ear. I push them to drive forward. I chide them when need be.
I encourage and I diffuse. And yes, occassionally I bend over backwards.

They bring me laughter, new perspective and yes, sometimes irritation.
I find great satisfaction in knowing these faces.

How do I make one understand that just an extra 20 min can make all the difference in the day of one of these faces? Regardless of laughter or a high tension situation?

Why is it that my credibility is in question when these faces come to me time and time again for assistance or just to say hi. I would think it would be quite the opposite.

They come to me because they know I will take the time. Push them in the right direction. Keep them on tract.

Isn't this what they deserve? Not to be a number, but a face and name?

Am I wrong? Do I care entirely too much?

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

The garden is growing. Slowly but surely. Still have some pumpkins and zucchini to get planted.
The corn babies are almost 4 inches tall now!

One of the tomato plants has a couple of small tomatoes trying to make it...

 

And... my New Mexico green chili has a few bud I'm hoping make it...

 

 

Now if I can just keep the dogs from chewing on the squash, cantaloupe and cucumbers we will be good to go. Not sure what the attraction is. I wouldn't think they would be very tasty.

 

 

In other things... still working on that Christmas Calendar of mine. It's getting there. I haven't even wanted to touch Starry Night... it actually gives me nightmares!

 

Thinking I may make some pumpkin bread today... no other mischief to get in to. 

 

 

 





Completely & Utterly...

UNINSPIRED.

Bored. No mischief. Need something to do, but don't feel like doing anything. Tired and restless all wrapped in one.

What to do... what to do...

Ok.... random people who just drop by... give me some ideas!

Don't be scared to drop a line... I don't bite... at least not too hard...

Can it be that simple?

I, like most women, have an issue with concept of self. We can be our own worst enemies at times. Childhood follows us. Mass media is constantly bombarding us. We're scrutinized by individuals. We're not pretty enough. We have too many imperfections.
Do I believe I am beautiful? Absolutely not. I will never believe it. However, I recently came across the commercial Dove put out.
You can see it here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XpaOjMXyJGk&noredirect=1

It made sense. We don't see ourselves as others see us.
It made me think...

In fact it reminded me of something someone once said to me. Not long ago I was seeing someone who was 22. I asked him why he didn't want to date a little gal his own age. He said it was because he didn't want to date a little girl. He wanted to date a mature, confident woman. Ok. Makes sense. So, I asked another question. Why would he date someone so much older that had slight smile and laugh lines and no longer carried her teenage hard body. His response.... "you've had children and that's perfectly fine by me. Plus... you don't see what I see."

Can it be so simple? "You don't see what I see." I won't believe someone if they tell me I am gorgeous or beautiful. But, I could believe him because he worded it differently? I've taken that comment and written it on my mirror as a reminder. No one sees you as you see yourself.

Anyways....

I finished a quick stitch a couple weekends ago. I've been such a slacker about posting it. This is Let It Snow by Barbara Ana Designs. Now I just need to decide how I'm going to finish it.

I've also been wrking diligently on my Christmas Calendar.... It's coming right along. I've surpassed what is shown. Fingers crossed I get another picture taken of it soon.

Just remember... YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL!