by Sarah | Nov 9, 2013 | All About Me, Story of Me
My mom taught me to cook and bake as I grew up. I would help her tear bread for the stuffing at holidays. Cut apples for applesauce or pie. I’d stir the batter for the most delicious brownies.
All along the way I’d glean tips and tricks to what makes my Mom’s meals delicious. Little nuggets of information that have stuck with me into my marriage.
One of my favorite secrets happens to tie in with my favorite fall treat.
Apple Crisp.
My Mom’s secret lay in the citrus that you add. Instead of a tart lemon, she used orange. Now, before you go crying that the citrus isn’t necessary because you expect the apples to brown in this delicious dessert…of course you do. But, if you add a touch of orange as your citrus – it’s a sweet little kick that punches up the flavor. The way you put in that citrus is up to you. I favor orange juice concentrate (a couple of tablespoons), you could use orange juice – heck, my mom has been known to use Tang. Yes, TANG.
Try it – along with my other secret (vary the apples, I use up to 4-5 different kinds). I bet you won’t regret it.
Recipe: Apple Crisp
Summary: Recipe is for one pie sized dessert. Increase as needed for larger desserts (as I did in my example pictures)
Ingredients
- Filling:
- 6 apples – at least 1 granny smith
- 2Tbs White Sugar
- 2Tbs Brown Sugar
- 2Tbs Flour
- 1Tbs Orange Juice concentrate
- Topping:
- 1/2 Stick Butter
- 1/8 C Brown Sugar
- 1/4 C Flour
Instructions
- Peel & Core apples
- Slice – granny’s hold up better so slice them thinner, the other varieties slice thicker
- Mix with rest of filling ingredients and put into pie plate
- Using pastry cutter or fork, cut together topping ingredients
- Sprinkle topping over pie
- Bake 50-60 minutes at 350*
- Turn on broiler for 3-5 minutes until topping is crisp to your liking.
Preparation time: 20 minute(s)
Cooking time: 1 hour(s)
Number of servings (yield): 6
by Sarah | Nov 5, 2013 | All of Us, Crap, Random, Special Needs
*Otherwise titled “The post in which I piss people off.”
From the time our troubles started, from the time we first realized there was just something ‘off’ about Riley. From the day We realized Angel’s torticollis was more than just a lazy neck and a heavy head. From the day we realized Angel’s cough was going for a month and showed no signs of letting up. From the first time Angel intentionally injured herself. From the first toys Riley lined up. Every day, every night, every in between we are aware. We notice when Angel runs out of steam before she’s played for ten minutes. We notice when Riley is starting to retreat into her shell. When we’re in danger of a meltdown of epic proportions. In danger of a night of a screaming, pouting, angry Riley.
We notice it all.
We see it in the every day.
We see it in the little things.
Every action, every reaction.
It’s a part of our lives. It is our every day.
Then you come along and say “But she looks just fine to me.” Or “She doesn’t seem autistic.” And of course the “She doesn’t act sick.”
I know you mean well. Really, I do.
But I hate it when you say that.
It’s like you’re belittling our every day.
The hours at doctors and specialists. The hours calming and refocusing an over-stimulated child (longest meltdown stands at 36 hours). The hours a day hooked up to machines to live every day. The way I lay awake at night listening to labored breathing. Check temperatures every time we feel a little warm.
I know you don’t mean it this way. I know you just mean to say that despite their troubles they look healthy and happy. That unlike other children with special needs it’s not a visible/noticeable difference.
But I hate it.
Just say they’re beautiful. Say they have a great smile. They look like they’re having a blast.
Don’t contradict what we KNOW. Riley does have autism (no matter how mild). Angel does have CF, and right now she is sick (and we spend every day wondering just how badly it’s holding on).
It is our every day.
We try to live life beyond our labels – and we only succeed by accepting them and integrating what they mean into our lives.
*~*
*This post is a re-post from a couple of years ago. It’s still very relevant to us today.
by Sarah | Nov 3, 2013 | All About Indiana, Blogging Life, Photography, Scavenger Hunt Sunday
We went to ZooBoo this week…and I used it for all my pictures. Some might be a stretch, but ya know. 😉
All taken w/ Canon Rebel XS.
1. Dress Up
This little guy decided to be the most unique and elusive creature in the universe – a unigazelle.
This fancy-pants scoffed and said he was always dressed up.
2.Candy
Pink like cotton candy
I can’t be sure – but I don’t think he’s looking for candy.
3. Pumpkin
YAY! Elephants smashing pumpkins!
I really loved the way this pumpkin was decorated
4. Spooky
I think…think…these were supposed to be spooky.
Where this guy succeeded the way he skulked about and paced.
5. Orange
A peek of orange in the upper pumpkin.
Explanation not required.
Songography:
My Life Would Suck Without You by Kelly Clarkson:
Well, it stands to reason that my life would suck without them:
You can find more pictures over at my flickr account.
by Sarah | Nov 2, 2013 | All About Me, Story of Me
I honestly don’t know what got me started on it.
I wasn’t one of those little girls that grew up dreaming of being Miss America.
I wanted to be Wonder Woman.
Or Princess Leia (minus the kissing my brother part).
Or on Broadway would suit me fine.
All I know is that I ended up signing up for the Junior Miss Pageant (the ONE year they tried to ‘dignify’ it by calling it ‘Young Woman of the Year’). And in the same year I signed up for the Miss Indianapolis Teen pageant.
Two pageants, one year.
I didn’t win either of them.
I won secondary awards. Fitness, presence and composure, finalist talent, non-finalist talent. I made it to the finals of one, 4th place over all.
I have to say…
I had a crap-ton of fun doing them. I knew I’d never do another one, I didn’t care to. I’m so glad I had that experience.
From the pressure of performing at the top of my game and being quick on my feet to the answers. To the endless rehearsals for the silly little dances they had us do.
The camaraderie of the pageant brought me friends during my senior year I didn’t have the rest of school.
The general stand-offishness of everyone in the other pageant that led to me just glad it was over.
I learned a lot, and I gained a lot, and I look back on it with immense fondness.
And yes, I kept my plaques.
by Sarah | Nov 1, 2013 | All About Erik, All About Home, All About Me, All of Us, NaBloPoMo
I have two tales of raccoons…one with a happy ending, the other…well…I figured for the first day of NaBloPoMo I’d be nice and not ruin the month too early.
This first story happened not too long ago, right here at this house with that big fat sucker in the picture over there. <<—
That is my driveway that Mama Coon was perched on, right over the gulley and the pipe that runs under my driveway where she lived with her babies.
Where she would come out regularly and pull any tiny scrap of food out of one of our trash cans that we lost the lid to. Even if it meant strewing crap across three yards to do it.
To make matters better, her and her little brats started to chew and rip at our shingles as the weather turned colder. They wanted IN.
They would destroy our roof to do it.
So we, naïvely perhaps, called animal control.
After all, they were being destructive to property now, not just purely a nuisance.
The best advice he could give us was this…(it’s been a while, the words might not be exact):
“You have a big trash can? Good. Set a trap and catch the raccoon. Fill a good tall trash can with water and drop the trap in. They drown real fast, don’t worry. Once she’s dead, wrap her up in a big trash bag and throw her away. Get all three of them, or they’ll never leave.”
Erik and I stared at each other slack-jawed for a while. We thought about Denver, quite young at the time, and what he would think if he caught wind of what happened. Plus, really? That’s flat out cold murder. It’s not hunting (which I’m fine with) or euthanization of a sick pet (which hurts but is sometimes necessary). It’s flat out murder.
Not cool, dude.
In the end we opted for trap & release. We’re fortunate enough to live on the border between suburbia and rural. We borrowed three traps, got all three of those buggers caught and took them miles away and released them.
In some cases, the less humane option is vitally necessary (as the other coon story will show)…but not every single time.
~shudder~ Could you kill a coon for no reason when the trap and release option was just as easy?
My mom taught me to cook and bake as I grew up. I would help her tear bread for the stuffing at holidays. Cut apples for applesauce or pie. I’d stir the batter for the most delicious brownies.
