Once Upon a Valentine, Part II

So, what became of the little Valentine? Well, I'll tell you.

After I was born, and after my mommy took me home, she found out something that worried her. I couldn't eat. Not that I wouldn't, I just couldn't. My jaw wasn't strong enough for me to get enough food at a time. For a while, I was very sick and very skinny, and the doctors were worried that I wouldn't make it. But Mommy knew different. She kept trying with me, and eventually, I got the hang of things! I turned into a round little baby with big chubby cheeks and a happy smile!
I grew up in a great household, with parents and a brother who love me very much. We lived in a trailor on a farm in Finksburg, MD, a place I will always call home. We raised chickens, grew vegetables, and had various animals running around. In the summers, we'd go swimming at Cold Saturday, which has since been turned into a trickle of water that runs under the road to the Cold Saturday subdivision. The houses there are beautiful, but I miss my stream! We'd go to the fireman's carnival every year, and that's where I went on my very first carnival ride. My daddy took me on the Round-Up (or, Tilt-a-Whirl) when parents were still allowed to just hold kids in their arms on that ride. When the summers would get too hot to bear, my mother, brother and I would live like bats - we'd sleep through the hot parts of the day and get up at night. Mom would do laundry and the chores, and Ricky and I would play outside by the light of the moon. In the winter, we'd play outside at night, too, when the moon was bright enough to light up the snow. Ricky would build snow thrones for me, and I would sit like a little princess in the moon light. Mom used to call us her Moonlight and Sunshine, because Ricky's hair was such a pale shade of blonde that it looked like sunlight, and my hair was a darker color (which has yet to be indentified), and it glowed a little in the moonlight.
I started school there, first at Calvary's Learning Tree at the church down the road, and later at Mechanicsville Elementary.
When I was 5, we moved to West Virginia, to my Grandma's house in Largent. I spent my summers in the river with Dad and Ricky, and went to school at Paw Paw Elementary School. I was a good student and didn't get into much trouble. I was always on the honor roll and had good attendance. In the winter months, we would get snowed in with no electricity, and Ricky and I would spend hours building igloos and sled paths. On my first day of school at Paw Paw, I made a new best friend. Her name was Tiffany Martin, and she was in the same grade I was. She was also new, just like me. We became friends instantly, and when Mom would send me to school in the mornings, she'd watch me from the hill, and would smile when I'd meet Tiffany in her yard and we'd walk to the bus stop holding hands. Tiffany moved away later, and we lost touch, but I never forgot her, even though I continued to make more and more friends as I grew.
Years later, when I was 16, I found the greatest best friend anyone could have. He was little and red and he screamed a lot, and maybe he wasn't really mine, but the day Mathew Reece was born was one of the best days of my life. I became his K, his bath-wench, his buddy, his pseudo-mommy. That little boy, who is now 8 years old, is a huge part of my world, and has a big piece of my heart in his hand. I would lay down my life for that boy, and I wouldn't have it any other way!
In 2002, I graduated from Paw Paw High School alongside my friends, and went off to Potomac State College, where I majored in English. During my second year, I met Brandon Walker, and we fell in love. I moved in with him, continued going to school, and worked at WalMart for almost a year before I had to drop out of school. It was hard for me to leave school, but I had a family-in-the-making to take care of. Soon after that, we moved to Morgantown, WV, where we got married on September 17, 2005. We had a beautiful wedding, with almost my whole Largent family there. Brandon and I moved back to Keyser not long after we were married, and, well...things just didn't pan out for us. I was working full-time at the Mineral Daily News-Tribune and volunteering at Keyser Emergency Medical Services, he was first between jobs, then working full-time for Martin's Food Stores and volunteering with Keyser Volunteer Fire Department, and our homelife was falling apart. Brandon and I split up, after less than a year of marriage, and we went our separate ways in July of 2006.
That time in my life is one that I don't like to think about...a lot of ups and downs, rises and falls...but, in May of 2007, I finally graduated from PSC, with an Associate of Arts degree in Journalism. My scholarship had finally paid off, and while I was at work one day at Keyser EMS, my roommate Chris brought my mail to me, and I got to see my diploma for the first time. (That diploma now sits on the mantle over my bed, with all my other important things.) In August of that year, after losing my job, my car and my apartment, I went to live with my friends, The Robinsons, where I worked as a housekeeper and babysitter for their three children - Keegan, Isaac and Jasmine. I lived and worked there for almost a year before I got a new job at Hamburger Haven, a restaurant in McCoole, MD. Everyday, I'd get up and walk to work, then come home to Keyser. Brandon and I officially divorced on May 1st, 2008, and I started to move on with my life. While working at the Haven, something amazing happened.
Through an absolute accident, I met BJ Lowry, and we became friends. We talked for several months, and grew closer and closer. In July of that year, BJ asked me to move to Tennessee with him. It would give me a new start to my life, and help him with bills and rent - an equally good opportunity for both of us. Sadly, a few days before I was to move, BJ called and told me not to come. He'd decided it wasn't a good idea, and it would do more harm than good for both of us. I felt like I'd lost a friend, on top of having lost a great opportunity...and I had started to develop feelings for BJ. I hadn't lost a friend, thankfully, and BJ and I stayed in touch, even I moved home to my parents' house in Largent, with the intentions of finding a local job and staying close by. Then one day, I got a phone call from BJ that changed everything.
He admitted that he loved me, and had pushed me away because he was afraid that I would hurt him. He begged me to let him make things right, and asked me again to move to Tennessee with him, even offering to help with my trip. I agreed, much to the shock and disagreement of my family and friends, and on September 8, 2008, I left West Virginia and made the 9-hour trip to Millersville, TN, where I moved in with BJ. I met his daughter and his family, and fell in love with these new people. I can now proudly call them my family, as well. In October, I started working for JCPenney, where I'm still employed. BJ and I are doing better by the day, and we recently moved into a new house in Springfield, just down the road from his family.

So now, the little Valentine is all grown up, and what does she have to show for it? Well...

I have a mother who sees me as the angel in her eyes.
I have a father who thinks I hung the moon.
I have a brother who loves me, even if he can't really show it.
I have two nephews and a niece who love their K.
I have friends who love me despite all the random insanity I bring to their lives.
I have a families in West Virginia, Maryland and Oklahoma who love and miss me, and wish nothing but the best for me.
I have a family in Tennessee who takes care of me and keeps me safe and happy because they love me like one of their own.
And I have a man who loves me for who I am, who takes care of me, trusts me, protects me, and lets me love and care for him in return.

So, after all is said and done, I think I may just be the luckiest little Valentine in the world! I have a world so full of love that I can't contain it and it bubbles over in the form of...well, this blog! This heart may be tiny, but it is definitely full!

Once Upon a Valentine, Part I

Once upon a Valentine, a little girl was born. Tuesday, February 14th, 1984 was the day she entered the world, and Saturday, February 14th, 2009, marks her 25th birthday! Know who she is?

That's right, it's me! I'm the Valentine, and I'm officially 25 now! I'd like to share with you an email that I received today, in honor of my birthday! This is from my mother...

Punkin Pie,

Today is your 25th birthday -- you are now officially 1/4 of a century old. Do you remember how, on each of your birthdays, I would tell you about the day you were born? I can't be with you today but I can still tell you your story. But this time let me start from the beginning.

In the spring of ' 83 I was working with your Aunt Sonya cleaning apartments in the Washington, DC area. Dad and Uncle Tim, Uncle Jim and his brothers, Paul and Pat were working there also refurbishing the apartments. Your brother, Ricky and your cousin, Timmy went with us every day. Those apartments were awful places, stinky and dirty, so we used a lot of ammonia to scrub everything down. One day my head started spinning and I felt faint while we were cleaning so I had to climb down from the counter and sit on the floor. I almost fainted and Sonya assumed it was from the ammonia. But I knew different. I only fainted one other time in my life -- when I was pregnant with your brother, Ricky. I made an appointment with a doctor and had a pregnancy test done and BINGO! I was right -- YOU were on your way. I didn't go back to those awful apartments anymore because I had to be careful with you. But you did cause me to faint one morning while Ricky and I were waiting for his school bus. I ended up on the ground with Ricky shaking me and asking me if I was OK and the school bus pulling up with everyone on board staring at us. I told the bus driver I was OK and put Ricky on the bus and walked back home.

Of course, we didn't know you were you yet so we were deciding on a name for a boy and one for a girl. But in the meantime Ricky gave you a nickname. He used to like to put a styrofoam cup on my belly and watch it move around as you moved around. One time you kicked the cup right off my belly and he said, "Boy, that little Jasper sure can kick!" And so you became "Jasper". If you recall, some of the baby shower cards in your baby box are addressed to Jasper. Aren't you glad we didn't name you that for real? Dad left it up to me as to what we would name you and I decided on Ryan James, if you were a boy, and Katharine Ann, if you were a girl. I decided on the name Ryan because I liked it (even though Ricky hated it) and James because I wanted to honor your Poppy, my dad. I decided on Katharine because it was my grandmother's (Nanny's mother) real name (we always thought her name was Lillian Elizabeth but her real name was Katharine Mae). Katharine also because it was how my favorite actress, Katharine Hepburn, spelled her name. I decided on Ann without the E because I wanted to honor my baby sister, Toto. I almost named you Kati Scarlet, from Gone With The Wind -- you remember? I still think I should have, little Sarah!

All the time I carried you I felt very calm. I had already raised Ricky for 7 years and thought I knew what I needed to know to do it again. I didn't have any kind of morning sickness but I did develop a loathing for the smell of vanilla for a while. I also had an unbearable craving for pumpkin pie and since it was summer time there was not a pumpkin pie to be had. I haunted the stores and fruit stands (or rather made your Dad haunt them) waiting for Fall, when they would have the pies in stock. Guess you know that's how you got your nickname from me, Punkin Pie. Also while you were "enwombed" I took you to Ocean City for the first time. At the time, nobody but my sisters knew I was carrying you. I found out there was no water to be had on the boardwalk from any of the vendor's stands. Bottled water did not exist in 1983 -- isn't that strange to realize? I had to settle for drinking 7Up until we found out the Dough Roller pizza place would give me all the water I wanted if we ordered pizza.

The whole time I carried you I never gained any weight. I lost it instead. Also, the doctors estimated your birth date to be around March 3. Dr. Harvey Brilliant was the doctor I saw at the South Baltimore General Hospital OB/GYN clinic and he decided to do a sonogram because he said you were too big for the due date estimation. How about that, there was a time you were too "big". Sonograms back then were nothing like the ones now, no 3D images, but the doctors could make a guess at the sex of the child. I told Dr. Brilliant I didn't want to know. I still think knowing takes all the fun out of labor -- and believe me that is the ONLY thing fun about labor! Next he ordered me to take a glucose tolerance test because they thought I might have gestational diabetes. That was a gross tasting test and I didn't have diabetes. They were just wrong about the due date. And for some reason no one can explain, the weight loss was just a bonus for me because I lost 40 lbs. while I carried you and also when I carried your brother. Go figure.

The night I went into labor with you. Ahh, yes. I was at Nanny's house because I had come down from Finksburg a few days before to go to my clinic visit. Aunt Bonnie and I were watching a mini-series on tv called "Celebrity". Mini-series' were a still new thing back then; the first one I can recall was "Roots". We were into the second night of a three night series when I was becoming uncomfortable. My "taint" was hurting and I couldn't figure out why. I went to bed that night and around 4:00am I finally figured out I was in labor. Nanny was up and drinking coffee in the kitchen so I got up and told her. We called your Dad at Uncle Tim's to catch him before they left for work and he came to Nanny's to take me to the hospital. Ricky was still asleep so we didn't wake him up but he spent that whole day and into the night sitting in Nanny and Poppy's bay window looking out the drapes and waiting for Dad to come home and tell him if he had a Ryan or a Katie. He wanted a Katie.

At the hospital they told me I should walk for as long as I could because once I lay down I would not be allowed back up. So Dad and I walked the halls and waiting rooms for a while until the pains would take my legs out from under me. But just as I had had a long hard labor with Ricky (14 hours) I would also have a long hard labor with you (12 hours). Dad hadn't been in the labor room with me when Ricky was born, Nanny stayed with me through that one. But this time I told your Dad he would be in the room and would not be allowed to leave. I guess everyone thought I was kidding. I wasn't. Dad had to stay through the I V insertion (during which he almost fainted) and he had to stay through all the screaming. I gave him such a headache he asked a nurse to see if Toto could bring him an aspirin (and you know he hates taking pills). She brought him one and offered to stay with me so he could go rest for a while. OH NO YOU DON'T! No disrepect to Toto but he was staying through the whole thing even if his head flew off! And he was lucky really because there was a tv in my labor room and he spent his time watching it while I screamed and squeezed his hand off. When the pains were coming really close together and long Dad would watch the fetal monitor climb up and up and up, and then slide down. I relished the slide downs but he would keep telling me "no not yet, it's going up. Still up. Still up." Finally I told him to please lie to me and tell me it was going down and down and down. My water didn't break all the way to help you get born so a doctor came in to break it for me. His name was Doctor Obeyuwana and he was huge and he had HUGE hands. Hands as big as hams! When I saw that he was going to reach inside me to check on you I tried to climb up the bed to get away from those hands. I was yelling, "He's gonna hurt me!" He didn't of course. And, by the way, Dr. Obeyuwana is the same doctor who delivered your best friend, Angie.

I knew it was time for you to be born when I had the illusion of being a big fat cannon ready to fire out a cannon ball (they had given me Demeral near the end, which it turned out later they shouldn't have done.). I didn't see you get born because I had my face squeezed shut trying to fire that cannon ball, but Dad was there and he saw you make your entrance. He told me you were a beautiful little girl. I remember saying, "Ricky got his Katie!" You came into this world crying -- and that was the first time you cried and broke your Daddy's heart. He has never been able to stand up under your tears.

You scored high on your APGAR right away (shades of the future!) and the next thing I knew they put you in my arms and wheeled us down the hall past the waiting room where everyone was waiting to get a first look at you. The nurses took you from me then and took you to the nursery where you proceeded to remain wide-eyed and party all night long. All the nurses came to see the little Tomato Faced baby with the frosted hair and wide awake eyes who didn't cry but looked around all night long. ( And when your brother came to see you he was amazed by the way you could roll your eyes in different directions at the same time. Also, you would never be Jasper again.)

As for yourn Mama, I never did get to see the last episode of Celebrity to this day. Aunt Bonnie filled me in on what happened but it wasn't the same. But that's OK.




I have my Girlie Girl, my Larka, my Punkin Pie, my Kati Ann.












Ricky has his Teddy Bear, his Smodge.










Daddy has his Farty Bubbles, his Stinky, his Winks.

So, Happy Birthday, mine kid! Go tell your story.

And there you have it! That's how the world came to know me!

How to Save a Life

Ever heard that song? It's by a band called The Fray. Here's a snippet of it, just the chorus:

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

That being said, let me tell you a little story...
I have a friend, someone I've known since high school, who I'll call "George". It started as an internet friendship and grew on from there. We've never met face to face, so we'll call it a pen-pal relationship.
George has never been the most...stable...person I know, and things just tend to fall apart for him. I believe he tries, but I think he just doesn't get how to make life work a lot of the time.
In any event, George recently moved to Michigan, after leaving Washington state, to try to start his life over. He had no job, no place to stay, very little money and not much in the way of clothes or possessions. He moved in with a friend who had agreed to let him stay until he could get on his feet. Things were going well for him, I'd even sent him a link to a website where he might be able to find a job (www.snagajob.com), because that's how I got the job I have with JCPenney and how BJ got his job with Dish Network. I'd also sent him various links from Craigslist for cheap rooms for rent in his area. All of this, I did earlier today. Over the course of the day, things fell apart on him, yet again. The exhusband of the friend he was staying with made it very clear that he did not want George in the house with the woman, and threatened his life if he didn't leave. George is not exactly the type to stand up for himself physically, so he feared for his safety and left. He called me to tell me what had happened, and I wanted to cry. I finally thought he had someplace good to stay for a little while to rebuild after a series of failed relationships and lost opportunities. You all know me...I'm a chicken heart. I can't let someone I know suffer. When I was at my worst, I had a friend who picked me up and helped me back to life. I had lost my car, lost my job, lost my apartment, and felt like I had nothing left. When my friend stepped in and gave me a home, she saved my dignity and my sense of self-worth, just knowing that she cared enough to reach out to me when I needed someone. I wanted to give George that same feeling.
So, I suggested that he call the men's rescue mission in the city where he lives, and he said he would try. When I got off the phone with him, he was crying, and I started to wonder if he really would call them. So I took the initiative...I called them for him. I told them that I was calling from Tennessee, and that I had a friend in Michigan who needed help. I gave them his name and the address where he was (he called me from a payphone at a convenience store), explained that he had no money, food, or place to stay, and asked if there was anything they could do for him. The man I spoke with said they would never turn someone away who needed help, and they would do their best to help him if he could get there, or send someone to get him if need be. While I was on the phone with him, he had to put me on hold to take another call. When he came back on the line with me, he said "Hey, you said your friend's name is George? I have him on the other line, he said a little angel told him to call us. I'm assuming that little angel is you?" I was so thrilled I could have cried! I confirmed that, yes, George was the friend I'd called about, and asked him how he sounded. The man said he didn't sound so good, he sounded pretty shaken. I asked him to please talk to him and help him, anything at all that they could do for him would be a blessing. Before he got off the phone with me, he said "He's right, you are a little angel. Not many people would try so hard for someone so far away. Thank you, for helping us help your friend. I'll let him know that he has a real friend in you."
So, did I save a life? Maybe, maybe not. But the important thing is that I helped someone who thought he had nowhere left to turn, and no one left to care about him. No one should ever be without a home...not just in the sense of homeless, but without a real home, someplace or circumstance where they feel comfortable, and where they feel loved. That's what I found here in Tennessee, and it hurts that not everyone can feel this way. If I can help, I will, within my means. I can't change George's life...but I can let him know that I care, no matter the distance.
In closing, here's something that I made up in Photoshop (you all know how I love to play around with pictures and words). I think this sums it up pretty well...

Maybe I didn't save George's life immediately, but I gave him a headstart at saving his own!

Monchichi on the Move!

Okay, first off...how many of you remember what a Monchichi is? Yes, I know most of my readership far exceeds my years and wisdom, but things like this are easily forgotten! And, yes, I also realize that these were popular before I was born, but that's still not the point...Monchichi were little monkey-people who lived in trees. For those of you who don't know, this happens to be one of many nicknames for me, courtesy of my Uncle Billy. He's been calling me Monchichi for as long as I can remember, because apparently there's some resemblance between my early years and a Monchichi...what do you think?


Next on the agenda...did you know that in the moving process you can learn things about your stuff that you never knew before? As many times as I've moved (and, yes, Aunt Cawnin, it's been a LOT...LOL), it never fails to shock me that I'm forever learning things about my own stuff, particularly my clothing! First, I realized how much of it there really is, especially when combined with BJ's and Addisons. Then, an even more shocking revelation...I have a pair of lounge pants that I've had for ages. Did you know there's a pocket on the back of them? Cause I didn't! *sigh* Live and learn!
I have folded so many articles of clothing that my arms hurt! I've also folded clothing so tiny (Addison's) that it should never be folded! It's like trying to fold up a grain of rice! I also didn't know that a man could own so many clothes. I always kinda thought men had a couple shirts, a pair of slacks (just one, mind you...), some jeans in various states of decay, two pairs of shoes, a couple socks that don't match and a a handful of drawers they've had for at least a decade (of more, depending). I learned today that this is not the case. If it is, then I got the most clothing obsessed man on the planet, which would bode badly for me because you know me and clothes/shoes. Mom used to call me Little Imelda because of all the shoes I had! And bear in mind - I gave away a lot of things before I moved to Tennesse. I divided up my clothing into bags: One to keep, one for the GoodWill, and one for each of two church missions. And to be honest, I put the better clothes in the bags for the churches, because I've seen what families go through when they lose everything they have...they deserve a little something extra, even if it's just a shirt with one less rip in the seams.
In conclusion to my clothing realizations, I also realized it was time to step away from the laundry when I could no longer see our queen-sized bed for all the piles (each a foot and a half high) of clothing stacked on it. I decided to undertake a simpler task: Addison's bed/playpen. I gave up on that after 20 minutes of wrestling with it. I got so frustrated with that contraption that I briefly contemplated setting it on fire, then decided it would be just as freeing to launch it through the back door and onto the patio, where it sat for a few hours until I made Matt go collapse it. Me and playpens have never gotten along, not since Matty's when he was little. Mom and Jess remember the fight we had with Cilla's playpen, and I will not go down THAT road again!
On another moving note, I have to say that I've had it with this family and extremes...BJ was born during one of the worst lightning storms Burkburnett, TX, has ever seen; his sister was born on the hottest day of the year (and it still ranks as one of the hottest for Burk), and we moved out of the old house and into the new one on one of the most bitterly cold days we've had this winter. The natives have been restless in TN for the past couple weeks, because the weather has been so insane. It goes from moderate to warm, warm to bitter cold, bitter cold to moderate, then moderate to absolutely polar. It was polar on the day we moved, if only for the wind factor. I was so cold, I had to stop carrying boxes and just stick to throwing things into them and trying to tape them shut, because my fingers had locked up from the cold. It didn't help matters much that there was no heat in the last house, just a pair of space heaters that we didn't bother to turn on, because we didn't want to pay more on the heating bill for the old house than we have to.
The house we've moved into is much bigger than we realized...our stuff, which looked like so much in the old house, is DWARFED by the empty space in the new house. We've gotten the living room situated, and we're still working on the bedrooms. My first order of business the first night here was to arrange my kitchen, and for now, it'll just have to do. The only appliances that came with the house were the stove and the central air/heat, so we had to buy a fridge. We found a REALLY nice one on Craigslist for $75 and brought it home the day we moved in. The lady selling it lives right here in Springfield, so Matt and BJ strongmanned it into the house. We had to take the door off the hinges to get it in, and it doesn't exactly fit in the space provided...but it's a nice fridge and it works! It's a big side-by-side, and the lady who sold it to us said we could have the mini-fridge she's got for free, just because we were the only ones who showed any interest in it. Our first thought had been to get the mini-fridge as a temporary fix until we could afford something bigger, because moving expenses had stretched our budget to its limits. Sue, bless her heart, loaned us the extra money it cost to get the big fridge (THANK YOU, MOMMA SUE!), and that's what we have now. As for a washer and dryer, BJ talked with Addison's mother, and she told him that if he came and dug theirs out of the shed, he could have them since she has no use for them (she lives with her mother). So, one day soon, BJ and Matt will head up to where she lives and bring them down. It would have been this weekend, but Matt has his son and BJ is hurting from karate class. He's been in Wado Ryu (a defensive non-aggressive karate style) classes since he was roughly 15, and for a while he had to miss out because of financial and time restraints. Now that we live a couple blocks away from the Dojo, he can go back on Thursdays, and his Sensei is very pleased to see him get back into it. He went to class this past Thursday, and Sensei worked him HARD. He's still a little tender from the strain, but he's happy that he's back in it.
And now for a yummy note! When all was said and mostly done with moving (there are still things in my car from the last round of hauling), we gave it up in favor of sitting down to a nice warm dinner - some good, hearty chicken soup and biscuits! The biscuits were the kind in the exploding tube, and the soup came from various cans, but damn, was it good! Here's the recipe, and remember, it's a BIG one! You can always cut it down to size! (I've adjusted it, not only to be Tody-friendly, but also because we've made this twice so far and adjusted it, so I'm combining the best of both recipes.)

2 cans chicken broth
2 cans cream of chicken soup
1/2 soup can of milk (if desired)
2 additional cans creamed soup, any flavor (broccoli, cheddar, chicken, mushroom...we used mushroom)
2 cans mixed vegetables
3 6-0z. cans chunk chicken in water
1 C fresh chopped onion, or 1 can whole kernel corn, depending
2 Tbsp fresh chopped garlic
Salt and pepper, to taste
Paprika, to taste (if desired)
2 healthy Tbsp butter

Saute the onions (if any) and garlic with the butter in a pot (same one you'll use for the rest of the soup, it cuts down on dirty dishes). Add the chicken broth, and let it simmer together for about 5 minutes. Flake the chicken chunks with a fork, and add to pot. Add soups one can at a time, mixing together thoroughly for each can. Add the veggies and heat through, adding milk as desired. Season to taste, and you're DONE!

Without the milk, the soup has more of a hearty chowder consistancy, the milk just thins it out a bit. Either way, it's thick and creamy, and it goes so nicely with biscuits and some fresh tea (aka House Wine of the South). And, if for some reason you don't like the veggies in the mixed can, you can always grab two cans of whatever veggies you like! The first time, we used the mixed can, but the second time we didn't have anymore, so we used a can of green beans and a can of carrots. The onions vs corn is just a matter of taste...you can always use both, if you like onions. BJ doesn't like corn, so we used the fresh onion. No matter what veggies you add, this is a soup that will DEFINATELY warm your bones and stick to your ribs!
And since I mentioned cooking again and the fact that Tody leans to the anti-'shroom side...wanna hear some interesting things about my life since I moved here? Well, you're going to, whether you want to or not! For starters, I eat green things now. I eat buttered broccoli, I eat turnip greens like they're going out of style, AND...are you ready for this...I eat CABBAGE! I know what you're thinking..."Who is this girl, and what has she done with Kati?!?!" Well, rest assured, it's still me! I've just developed a more open taste for food. Sue is a wonderful cook, and I made her a promise - if she made something that I don't usually eat, I'll at least TRY it. If I still don't like it, no big deal, at least I gave it a shot. If I like it...all the better for me! The same applies for things that BJ makes, like the black-eyed peas I tried and didn't really care for. As for saurkraut...yeah, I don't think we'll ever see the day that I snarf that stuff down. But in the meantime, give me Potlick (a dish Sue makes with cabbage) and leave me alone! I've also developed a taste for tomatoes! This happened back in October at a restaurant, when my burger came with tomato slices on the side. I looked at them and wanted to cringe, but for some reason they just looked GOOD, so I took a bite of one...before I knew it, they were GONE! I actually ate them all before I touched my fries, which made me wonder if I wasn't a little ill, because you all know me and potato products.
So, there you have it...the adventures, thus far, of my new home! I can't wait to post more, including pictures of the new house! Stay tuned!