It's just me. Again.

Random Things of Little Interest. 1. My husband is on Pinterest. (Thought I'd start with a rhyme. And although Pinterest is generally considered a "female" thing ... I think it's cool that he's "pinning".) 2. I want to say things people shouldn't say. I want to be rude. Loud. Obnoxious. (Is this why people drink?) 3. I also want to live in peace. I want to be quiet. Harmonious. Respectful. (I think I should just go back to bed.) 4. Food coloring doesn't actually have a flavor but the color makes my mouth think it has flavor. (It's pretty, but carrot cake just isn't the same with purple cream cheese frosting.) 5. I measure the strength of coffee by comparing it to my daughters eyes. If it's as dark as her peepers it's gooooooooood coffee. (Of course, I muck it up with cream and sugar to create a warm coffee-flavored milk shake.) 6. I've waited all week to type invoices at work. Typically I type them ever...

Tonight we experiment with our first ever homemade black bean burgers. I've found recipes as simple as this one and as complicated as this one . Somewhere in between there must be a tasty medium. I decided to make up my own version and by no means am I suggesting this worked! :) Rinse and drain 1 can of black beans Saute onions, green bell peppers, mushrooms (I added a few other chopped veggies I had left over from a salad; carrots and radishes being some of them) Add 75% of beans and 100% sauteed mixture into the food processor - pulse until combined. Add 1 egg, 1/2 cup bread crumbs, & remaining black beans - stir all together. Form into 4 patties - VERY sticky. Pour small amount of olive oil in hot pan, add burgers and let cook 5-8 minutes per side. Add slices of your favorite cheese on the first DONE side. Grill your buns lightly on the stove. Add tomato & lettuce, ketchup & mustard - ENJOY. I wish there was a list of the essential ingredients necess...

Today we walked through the doors of the 4th church. Another opportunity for me to find a "home" among people who believe in the Bible and gather on a weekly basis to celebrate, cherish, confess to and console one another in this life we call sacred. Four walls, familiar music, a minister. But I'm cynical. I'm longing for a place to call home all the while refusing to call any place home. Home insinuates rolling up my sleeves and digging into "housework". "Home" would require responsibility on my part. Playing an active roll. Even children have chores. Can you be a guest in a place you call home? If you're never given responsibilities, never asked to take out the trash, or allowed to do the dishes ... you quickly realize that you will always be a guest. Some day they expect you to leave. If you really want someone to "feel at home" don't you need to set an extra plate, clean out the spare  bedroom, make room in the garage?  ...