1.) What's cooking in YOUR crockpot?
(inspired by Joss from My Irish Twins)
2.) Find your one very favorite picture of Summer and write a poem about it.
(inspired by Mama Kat)
3.) Pay tribute to a favorite blogger! (And while you're at it link up and enter to win an adorable pettiskirt. I want it.)
(inspired by Kacey and Fran from Mayhem And Moxie)
4.) When I look in the mirror...
(inspired by Liz from Loving Mom 2 Boys)
5.) The top ten things I'd rather be doing than having sex with David Letterman
(inspired by Happy Hour Sue from Happy Meals & Happy Hour)
This week, I decided to do more than one prompt.
1. What's cooking in MY crockpot?I'm not a Crockpot junkie; nor am I a snob. I do cook in it from time to time. I've even attempted making a cake in it (which turned out kinda good, though probably dangerously undercooked); it ended up very chocolatey - always a good thing, and reminded me of a lava cake (with that undercooked gooey consistency).
Here's the Cleaver compound's current Crockpot cuisine favorite:
To Die For Crockpot Roast (found it on recipezaar.com)
a beef roast, any kind
1 (1 1/4 ounce) package brown gravy mix, dry
1 (1 1/4 ounce) package dried Italian salad dressing mix
1 (1 1/4 ounce) package ranch dressing mix, dry
1/2 cup water
Place beef roast in crock pot.
Mix the dried mixes together in a bowl and sprinkle over the roast.
Pour the water around the roast.
Cook on low for 7-9 hours. You can add your favorite vegetables about halfway through the cooking time (you decide how mushy you want them to be).
4. When I look in the mirror...
I see my 52 year-old face staring back at me, wondering how I will assess myself. Will I be fair? Will I point out flaws that nobody else will notice?
First, I see my brown hair. It is fine in texture, and has a tendency to tangle. As far as style, it has a mind of its own. I wonder why I have no gray; I've certainly earned it.
I see a forehead that is so high and broad that I could sell advertising space...and if one of us doesn't get a job soon, I may resort to it.
I see brown eyes that have seen things great and horrible. I see the laugh lines around those eyes, letting me know that more wonderful things have happened to me than bad things.
I see frown lines, too, that tell me that I have worried too much about things I could not control; calamities I could not prevent, suffering of others I tried my best to allay and, often, failed.
I see eyebrows that tend to run rampant, and need some plucking.
I see skin, unfettered by makeup, that has been the landing spot of countless kisses. My complexion is pretty good, I don't use any special creams or magic pots of lotions; I remain myself.
I see lips, thinning ever so slightly as I age. Lips that have stretched into many smiles (and many frowns). Lips that have kissed boo boos for children and grandchildren and children who I had the pleasure of babysitting over the decades. Lips that have kissed friends and lovers; that have whispered words of encouragement, or said words in anger.
When I smile, I see teeth that need work. Plagued my whole life with soft, fragile teeth, I see a cap in the front, and am reminded of crowns I should have gotten and didn't.
I see a nose that, to me, doesn't need rhinoplasty. It is clearly not a perfect nose - but it is mine. It holds up my eyeglasses without complaint.
Occasionally (usually at first glance in the bathroom mirror in the morning), the face that stares back at me reminds me of my mother. After that brief assessment, it turns back into my face.
I wash my face, run a brush through my hair, and get on with my day.
Overall, I like what I see.
Please check Mama Kat's post for all the wonderful responses to these prompts.