Gratitude
Today I've decided to try channeling Harriet, whose gratitude posts I always admire and love reading. I know, I know, on my blog it should be probably be called Grattitude - I'm TRYING, people! Plus I'm only talking about drugs a little.
I am grateful for:
1) My whack-job of a daughter who turns everything into a laugh-fest. Today, after someone on YTV made a reference to helping 'old people', she said "a nicer way to say old people is 'elderlies'. It means they're wise. Well, no it doesn't, it still just means old. But it's a more sophisticated way to say it and sounds nicer."
2) My son, who is taller than me, but still wants me to tuck him in at night (which consists of holding on to the rail of his loft bed to pull myself onto the single bed under it, then leaning far enough over the rail to kiss his ear).
3) My husband, who has withstood a lot of bitching over the past week, including me asking him for Christmas present ideas for his family and then mocking, belittling and generally shooting down every single one of those ideas. Thank goodness The Oatmeal has a new book out.
4) That I had the option of choosing to stop taking the evil drug from hell, because I didn't need it to treat cancer or something else that's severe or life-threatening. People with mental illnesses such as schizophrenia often get chided for not taking their meds, and their reason is often that it makes them feel bad. After this past year, I have a deep and sympathetic (and empathetic) understanding of what they mean.
5) Pam, who is basically a happy-pill in person form, with very few adverse side effects (unless you count a little extra ass from the times we go to Suzy Q instead of the gym). We're going to the gym tomorrow. Straight to the gym. Honest.
6) Everyone who reads this blog and has been so kind and thoughtful in your comments over the past week, and every other time I fall into a drama pot-hole. You have all helped me more than I can say.
Okay, now something to cut the sweetness.
Does The Oatmeal not fucking rock so incredibly hard? I tried to make steel-cut oats today because everyone and their hairy aunt with the mole says steel-cut-oats are the freaking bomb, they don't get mushy! They give you energy! They soak up cholesterol! They never send you email chain letters! I kept waiting for all the water to be absorbed but I just got this big wet mess of oats with some burned to the bottom of the pot, with a layer of something disturbingly mucus-like on top. I stuck it in the fridge to throw out next week. The other Oatmeal is SO MUCH BETTER than steel-cut oatmeal
I am grateful for:
1) My whack-job of a daughter who turns everything into a laugh-fest. Today, after someone on YTV made a reference to helping 'old people', she said "a nicer way to say old people is 'elderlies'. It means they're wise. Well, no it doesn't, it still just means old. But it's a more sophisticated way to say it and sounds nicer."
2) My son, who is taller than me, but still wants me to tuck him in at night (which consists of holding on to the rail of his loft bed to pull myself onto the single bed under it, then leaning far enough over the rail to kiss his ear).
3) My husband, who has withstood a lot of bitching over the past week, including me asking him for Christmas present ideas for his family and then mocking, belittling and generally shooting down every single one of those ideas. Thank goodness The Oatmeal has a new book out.
4) That I had the option of choosing to stop taking the evil drug from hell, because I didn't need it to treat cancer or something else that's severe or life-threatening. People with mental illnesses such as schizophrenia often get chided for not taking their meds, and their reason is often that it makes them feel bad. After this past year, I have a deep and sympathetic (and empathetic) understanding of what they mean.
5) Pam, who is basically a happy-pill in person form, with very few adverse side effects (unless you count a little extra ass from the times we go to Suzy Q instead of the gym). We're going to the gym tomorrow. Straight to the gym. Honest.
6) Everyone who reads this blog and has been so kind and thoughtful in your comments over the past week, and every other time I fall into a drama pot-hole. You have all helped me more than I can say.
Okay, now something to cut the sweetness.
Does The Oatmeal not fucking rock so incredibly hard? I tried to make steel-cut oats today because everyone and their hairy aunt with the mole says steel-cut-oats are the freaking bomb, they don't get mushy! They give you energy! They soak up cholesterol! They never send you email chain letters! I kept waiting for all the water to be absorbed but I just got this big wet mess of oats with some burned to the bottom of the pot, with a layer of something disturbingly mucus-like on top. I stuck it in the fridge to throw out next week. The other Oatmeal is SO MUCH BETTER than steel-cut oatmeal
Comments
I do like steel-cut oats, even though they are labour intensive. And by that I mean "stirring constantly for 20 minutes while holding a book in the other hand and reading." Yeah. There's a reason I haven't paid employment since 2001. Hint: it starts w/ an -L, ends in -azy.
love both oatmeals. though only one of them makes me laugh out loud on a regular basis.
As for The Oatmeal...well, love it of course!
All my food aversions are goo-based.
Anyway, this is the best thing to do with steel cut oats, goo or no goo:
http://www.sevenspoons.net/blog/2009/3/5/to-covet-and-crave.html
You don't have to make that fruit topping. It is perfectly good with maple syrup. And MAN. Myron can eat the whole batch of them. They are SO good. (I add vanilla and a little cinnamon.)
I tend to throw raspberries and banana slices and a wee dab of maple syrup into my bowl with the oats. Definitely ups the yumminess.
Love the other Oatmeal, too.