Skip to main content


Showing posts from June 27, 2010

You Should Eat Here. It's That Simple.

Midwestern life includes farming. It's just the way it is. And on farms, you get fed. You get fed real good because they need you to keep working, and let's be honest, a plate of raw fish is not going to get you to stack hay in a 300-degree haymow for very long.
Lunches (or dinners, as they're called) on the farm is simple: You sit down at the table and you eat what was cooked. There's no pesky decisions to be made; no choice of appetizers, no "put that on the side, please"- just good, wholesome, food on your plate, waiting to get et. Those were the ways of my youth.
Fast forward to the present, when my main meal of the day usually comes bagged by some pimply kid in a dorky hat. I missed the old farm lunches. I missed the love the food was made with. I missed the wholesomeness and the way the food stuck to my bones....

It is with my pleasure (and a certain amount of giddiness) that I introduce you to Sharon's Sweet Shop. A little r…

Black & White and Nothing In Between

"Okay, Mom. I'm ready to go now."

There stood my 8-year old daughter. The one I affectionately refer to as Dotter on my blog. Because 'dotter' literally means "daughter" in Swedish. And "literal" is the best way to describe my daughter, Dotter.

Comedian Mitch Hedberg joked, "I once saw a forklift lift a crate of forks. And it was way to literal for me." My daughter would've been in heaven. Of course a forklift would lift forks. Why else would they call it a forklift? Any other explanation would be ridiculous.

I sighed. Loud. Obnoxiously. Rudely.

"Mom, you said we could go to the store sometime. I'm ready to go now." She had her money ready to go in a Ziploc bag. I knew it she had already counted it out. Probably twice.

"Go comb your hair," I directed as I lifted my hands out of the kitchen sink where I was washing dishes.

Really, it was easier. Easier than trying to explain that the definition of "s…

I Don't Like You - Come Here!

Last night I holed up in my bedroom to watch The Real Housewives of New Jersey uninterrupted and all I kept thinking about is are these women for real? How hard is it to just stay away from the people you don't like. I guess I just don't hate anyone enough to spend that much energy on them. Of course, I'm also kind of lazy, and this much bickering about one person seems to take a lot of energy. More energy than I'm willing to spend. I choose to save my energy for the finer things in life, like dipping my chips in guacamole while having a glass of wine with my friends.

Is a fashion show (or any event, when you think of it) that important that you simply must show up and duke it out with your mortal enemy? I watched these women full of piss and vinegar (love that saying, by the way!), staring each other down and boring everyone at their respective tables about how much they hated each other. Honestly, there are other things to talk about. Like the oil spill in the gulf.…

Monday's Mention

Just thought I'd mention.....
I really like watching Big V with Cletus the Used to be Fetus.

I think they're both kind of cute.