Broccoli Cornbread

A favorite recipe from a few years ago.

Mix together:
- 4 well beaten eggs
- one teaspoon salt
- 6 ounces of cottage cheese (and whatever other cheese you like)
- one small onion finely chopped
- one stick of melted butter
- one package frozen chopped broccoli that has been barely cooked, or as much as you like of chopped lightly steamed broccoli 

Stir in:
- one package of Jiffy corn muffin mix

Pour into a greased pan approximately 9 x 9 and bake at 350 til done.

Here is a pic of the last piece from the one I baked Saturday.

Are we all like stars?

I recently learned that there have been about 107 billion people on Planet Earth so far, and that includes you and me. Being only one individual among that huge number may make us feel small or insignificant, but each of us is one in the approximate count. Still...the stars in the universe, one of which is our very own sun, the center of our solar system, the perfect sphere we are dependent upon for survival, are far more numerous than all of the humans ever lived. What if we are like stars? If each of us were a star, we may give off light and energy and to those around us. We may be as important to someone as our star has been to each of us earthly inhabitants. It is something to think about.

Mushrooms

Different types of mushrooms have popped up off and on during the summer, little green-topped single ones, tiny feathery ones on wiry stems, but I have never seen such a prolific stand as this variety that "mushroomed" in my backyard after the two big rains this week. I suppose there is something in my soil to make them grow, maybe a certain pH, still decaying tree stumps, or something the dog has left. Whatever. They are short lived, pretty, and an interesting life form.

Disappearing Styes

Forty plus years ago when I was expecting Trip, I developed a sty on my eyelid. My wonderful obstetrician suggested an old time remedy, rubbing a gold ring on it. It worked. Ever since when I have felt a little bump popping up, I would do the same, and they all went away, nipped in the bud. And if I were with someone who said they were developing a sty, like with a co-worker this week, I would hand them my wedding ring and tell them how to use it. Curious if other people knew about this trick, I decided to look it up and found they do. Try it next time. It can save you a doctor visit.

what we need

Last week I was speaking with a potential patient, a mid-thirtyish woman who was having a hard time articulating what her problem was. I had to ask several questions before she came up with the key. "I am afraid of not being loved," she finally identified. It was so helpful for her to see this truth about herself that she didn't even stay for admission. She said, "I have to go home and work on my marriage." Today was a similar situation with a twenty-something woman. When she was able to say the main thing she wanted was to be loved, she choked up and started to cry. The honest words she spoke gave relief. That is the answer to the question of what women want. I don't know about men, but I tend to think they don't desire to be loved as much as they want to be admired.

Facial

Today I spent my birthday money - thank you Trip and Lori - and got a facial. Last year about this time I had a thirty minute one, and the pleasure from it was much too brief. Because of a coupon for a new place, today I got a full hour. It was spent lying supine on a warm narrow bed in a dark room while a young girl fresh from aesthetic school applied and removed many layers of liquids, gels and creams. I don't need to know what they were, but my face now feels as soft as a baby's bottom.

As requested I arrived early for the appointment so I would have time to fill out a form about my overall health, which is thankfully boring. Next I was asked how I care for my skin. My answer was a winner as I told her I have never gone to bed with an unwashed face, and that I am perfectly satisfied with my long lasting five dollar jar of St. Ives moisturizer. Then she asked what my concerns were and I simply answered, "That you know what you're doing?" The relaxing music started, and after the initial cleansing and steaming, she covered my eyes so I wouldn't be so bothered by the bright exam light she was shining on my skin. Then she began to pinch. Tweezers. She said she was "Just hitting the high spots." I thanked her for taking care of the scourge of the sixty-something woman. She said she couldn't get them all, that it would take too long and run over our time. All in all it was great, especially to have someone else take care of me for a full hour.

A Bleeding Heart Conservative

At work one of my duties is to answer the phone when it rings. On the other end may be a co-worker with a question, but most often I hear desperate voices wondering what can be done for themselves or a loved one. Today it seemed as there were just too many sad stories and not enough ways to give help. Usually there is a psychiatric story in the news - a crazed shooter, a suicide, criminals and victims. To hear a commentary after such a newsworthy event you would think that there is help for the asking, but that isn't so. Only the lucky ones get to spend some time in a psych hospital, and then there is no guarantee they will improve though most do. There are not enough beds for all the people who need one, not enough helpers. Every hospital or mental health center has criteria/standards that a potential patient/client must meet, and many fall between the cracks. People may have to wait months before even getting in to see a psychiatrist for meds or to talk with a therapist/licensed listener. That is just the way it is, especially for the poor who are the most afflicted. The least I can do is to listen kindly, validate their concerns, and offer a small word of encouragement.