I love my job. Not many people can or will say that these days. Love what you do and you will never work a day in your life they say. I say they are right.

Working in protocol is not for just anyone. If I had to write a job announcement it would go something like this.

ISO an individual with an outgoing personality and capable of shoving it right back in the bottle at a moments notice. Must be able to negotiate for the best deals, make a diamond out of a pebble, turn a pumpkin into a carriage and turn it off at a moments notice. Must be diplomatic at all turns while pushing people to give you everything you want for nearly nothing and be excited to do it. Must be the face of the organization yet barely seen. The ability to read minds, predict the unpredictable and do all the manual labor no one else wants to do is a must. Late hours, putting out fires, and treating all of your guests like they are the best thing since sliced bread does not make you special, they only ensure you will make it to another day. If you are brave enough to take this job on and feel like you have the qualities above, bless your heart and apply below.

While so much of this is sadly true, it’s just some of the reasons I love being in Protocol.

We sometimes work long, demanding hours. We have to be creative, crafty, incredibly kind and understanding. We need lab ahead but often find ourselves reactive. We have to be willing to put in all of the work and get little to no credit. In fact, sometimes less feedback means more!

I love to get up in the morning, have my coffee and go to work. I work with strong personalities and together we challenge one another and make a spectacular team. We feed off each others strengths and we train in each others weakness. We succeed as a team and fail as a team. The way it was meant to be.

As I write, I can only home you each love what you do. Get up with purpose, make a difference you are proud of, and be happy with the day you have given.

Love what you do!

This summers gem of a drink gives a Hispanic twist to that average margarita on the rocks you have been sippin on 🍹

I love meeting new people from all over the country! Last night the hubby and I crashed a girls weekend pregame gathering with our friends and their visiting momma, aunt and little sister.

These lovely Latina ladies made me a drink! Oh my the flavors. Not sucky sweet, but smooth, little tart and little spicy. I don’t do super spicy so trust me when I tell you it was only a little spicy 🌶.

So for your next back yard bash, if you want to flip the switch and turn it up, try this one out!

I was excited to share this recipe with you, but I knew I would never remember the names of all the ingredients. I had to get pictures to share with you. Full disclosure it was also fun listening to them pronounce them all for me. My Spanish is so bad, well who am I kidding, I can’t speak Spanish at all and butcher all the menu items I ever try to order.

Ingredients:

1.5 oz spicy tamarind vodka

4 oz Tamarind Jarritos

lime (wedges)

Chamoy

Tajin

Rub lime wedge around the rim of your glass to moisten. Dip rim of glass in Chamoy and then Tajin. Add ice to glass and drop in that lime. Add your vodka and the Tamarind Jarritos. Sip and enjoy!

Substitution option for Tamarind Jarritos, use watermelon lime juice available at ALDIs!

Everyone has opinions and each and every opinion matters. In America, as Americans, we have the right to opinions. We have rights! We have the right to vote, the right bare arms, the right to choose our job, where we live, what we eat, what we watch, and many more rights.

July 4, 1776, America was founded on the principal that everyone should be afforded natural rights and political representation. July 4, 2022 just doesn’t feel like that.

It has been a slow road evolving to what our founding fathers envisioned and we are far from our destination. From the Native Americans to the Slaves, Segregation to Women’s rights, and sexual orientation to health care, America is evolving. The pace is slow and the setbacks are many.

Every generation has faced a change in culture and those changes were not without division. Today we see slavery as wrong and unjust but in that day and time it was as dividing a topic as the woman’s right to choose.

These dividing topics are made even worse by our politicians. The vote matters if we want to see change. But who do you vote for?

Our government is made up of republicans, democrats, and independents. The party chooses the candidate, the one most likely to vote their stances and we are left to pick the best of the worst.

The parties and their candidates have set agendas (that pay well) and don’t waiver.

So what about the Americans who don’t have the same beliefs as a party on all topics. Take me for example. I could literally take a little from each party but could never find a way to side solely with one. Where does that leave me and the other 41% of us? Maybe independent but let’s face it, someone is still pulling those puppet strings.

The president is elected by the electoral college, not the people. This leaves us with only our vote for the congressmen and women who play the game more than the president. They don’t vote for what the people want, they vote to get votes for the policies they are lobbying for.

It’s time for some change in America. We need to change how elections are done, we need to make laws against personal gain for elected officials and the deals made for votes, the people need to be heard and that should decide how votes are cast by our elected officials, and we need our younger generation to vote.

America need to vote out those who have personal agendas, don’t listen to the people, and can’t or won’t get the job done. We need politicians who get to work, work together, and represent the people. A vote should not be traded for another vote.

Finally we need to relook at the Supreme Court. Why are these not elected positions with expiring tenure? These people instead are appointed by the President and confirmed by the Congress and are just another tool for political parties to push their agendas. This is just another opportunity for the American people to not be heard.

Today we celebrate Americas birthday and let’s just hope we get a little wiser with age. If you are not registered to vote, consider it. The only vote that TRULY doesn’t matter is the one not cast. Let our voices be heard, a ballot at a time.

Each day we open our eyes with a new chance at life. No matter the day of the week or the hour your day begins, it’s a new chance, new opportunity. The day is not a guarantee that everything will be perfect, or that you have won the lottery. Instead it’s a chance to put the past behind you and focus on the present.

But how do you categorize a day as good, bad, or memorable? For me, I’m learning to focus on the highlights. Today for example, I got to wake up all on my own. No alarm, just my body waking up. When my eyes opened, I could see the sun peeking through the blinds.

I’m not one to lay on my bed when I wake up, so I climbed from my sheets and slipped on my house shoes. I gingerly made my way out of the bedroom so not to awake the dogs or my hubby.

Anyone who knows me, knows the coffee maker was brewing my first cup before I even wiped the sleep from my eyes. In 2 minutes and 34 seconds I was headed to my lanai, coffee in hand to take in the quiet sounds of a sunny Florida sunrise.

By the time my coffee was gone I was joined by my husband and our girls. The next couple hours we watched the news and had our second coffee. I’m not a huge fan of the news anymore, so I really only watch when the weather is on. Today they called for rain in the afternoon so we wouldn’t be doing the beach. I am actually almost giddy about the rain. I love a day at home, watching the rain. Maybe not days on end but the now and then rain is relaxing and I can use a day of relaxing.

I’ve been a little anxious lately, not really for any reason., so today I decided to do some deep cleaning. Sometimes when I feel this way, a good cleaning makes me feel better. It’s actually the end result that gives me the most satisfaction.

Todays project was kitchen SOS. It worked! I felt so good when it was done.

Shortly after the kitchen was done the rain came. Rain tickles the senses. The sound of rain is mesmerizing. I can hear it hit the window, tink tink tink. The drops hitting the pool, the trees, the roof each making a different, distinct sound. The smell of rain is so clean. It’s fresh and crisp. The air is cooler, the moisture and breeze providing relief to the heat. Then the thunder and lightning rolled in. Some may be afraid of it, and for many it’s a source of anxiety, but I LOVE me some thunder and lightning. I actually get the best sleep in a good thunder storm.

We had a wonderful dinner that my son and daughter in law made. What a blessing! The food was amazing, but even better was they did it for us.

I rate my day was great. It was not eventful but it was perfect for me. From the moment I woke up, I was able to enjoy things that make me happy.

Take a minute to count the little things in your day that give you joy. All those little things add up! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to end my day with a dance in the rain!

Protein shake – its good for you!

This shake is full of absolute goodness for you, but to taste it you would never know! Drink after a workout or as a stand-alone meal. You font want to miss out on this one 😍

1 cup almond or rice milk
1 heaping tsp almond butter
1 scoop protein powder
1 frozen banana
1 handful spinach
Blend until smooth

i like to add a scoop of collagen in mine

I will miss the masks for a much deeper, more meaningful reason. For the first time in my lifetime, men now have a better understanding of what it is like to have to wear something that is restricting, sometimes suffocating, uncomfortable, and cumbersome. That’s right ladies, men now have an inkling of a feeling of what it is like to have to wear a bra. You know what I’m talking about. We have all had that total feeling of freedom when we walk in the door and unsnap that restrictive garment that makes us sweat in uncomfortable places, stretches out and suddenly just doesn’t fit right and in many social situations is frowned upon when not worn. Maybe we should start a petition to lift the Bra mandate too.

As mask mandates are being lifted and we say farewell to masks, people in general see this as progress or a return to normalcy. I for one am sad to see them go. But not because of the normal political or medical debates we see in the news or hear at the water cooler. Don’t get me wrong, when our daily debate can go back to who should retire from the NFL or which is better a Ford or Chevy I will feel like I’m existing in a more normal world and moving past masks will help with that.

Meanwhile, at least our men have felt our pain. Happy Sunday everyone. Laugh at the things you can’t change!

People pleasing

I LOVE SEEING PEOPLE HAPPY! It feels good to see others joyful and happy. If I am being honest, I have an unhealthy need to ensure others are happy. So unhealthy, it usually supersedes my own happiness. It could be a meal I cook, a gift I give, or a project at work. I almost always ask for feedback. It’s not because I am searching for compliments, I truly want to know if THEY liked it, if it made them happy.

In my life, I need to learn to be satisfied that I did something positive for them. I cooked for them, I chose a gift I thought they would appreciate. I need to understand that how someone receives my gestures is up to them. I don’t know why this is so difficult for me, or why I confuse giving with others happiness. I come from a generous and appreciative family, and I have raised my own children to appreciate the things in their life and people around them.

I guess in the end the reason I feel that way is less important than how I move forward, change my own behavior and way of thinking. Find satisfaction in knowing I put a hot meal in front of my loved ones, I did something for someone else to brighten their day, or I just put a little more effort or thought behind my actions. After all, I am not only giving them a tangible item, I am giving them a piece of my mind, my time, and myself. Maybe that is the real gift.

No-one knows how much time we have on this earth, and no tomorrow is promised. Taking a moment from your day to send a text, make a call, buy a gift, cook a meal, fold a shirt, or even say a prayer is a priceless gift. If I look at my actions and offerings like that, and those I do it for truly care about me, then I have given them something that can’t be measured in satisfaction. It is priceless and precious and that is truly the best of what I can give.

So this week I am going to start appreciating the moments I have and have to give. I am going to work to feel satisfaction in knowing I share some of these moments with the people I love both friends and family, and finally understanding that what I give is enough. It is up to the recipient to appreciate the value of it. Instead of allowing their taste for what I did to affect my giving, I am going to give what I can and find the satisfaction in just that. I will also be cautious of giving of myself to others who won’t appreciate it and save it for those who will cherish it.

Have a great week and remember, yesterday is heavy, let it go! Letting March in with new lenses!

Pressure can be a good thing. It can push you further than you thought possible, helping you to achieve the potential you didn’t realize you had.
It’s the pressure from others’ actions you put on yourself that can be unhealthy. A fact of life: the only actions you have control over are your own. When I attempt to help someone, gifting them compassion and kindness, I have a tendency to subconsciously claim ownership in their next step. I create a personal investment in their success or their failure. This can affect my mood, my sleep, my work life and my home life.
It’s not always the big acts of physical labor or financial assistance. My actions could be something as simple as a prayer, words of encouragement or a wish for luck. Afterwards, I find myself following their journey as if it were my own. I would even go as far as admitting that not knowing how it ends devastates me too.
In order for who I am to work for me, I have to let go of the the way I think. The unhealthy connection I make to others’ journeys. I don’t mean not helping or not caring, but simply reminding myself that it’s not my journey, it’s theirs. Look at myself as a tool in their arsenal for venting, talking, listening, or just being. Their results, their actions, that’s what they own.
I need to practice giving unconditionally. I never realized that when I would give I was subconsciously looking to receive. I was seeking results in their success; satisfaction from their journey. The real way to give is to do it with the satisfaction that you simply offered a piece of you for a moment or moments of time. That is all, nothing more. It doesn’t mean you don’t care what happens to those around you. It just means that it’s their journey, their fight. My actions are my responsibility. My successes are my achievements. My failures are my lessons. To share my story is a gift.
I plan to continue being there for my friends, my family, strangers, and acquaintances, but I am also going to reflect on my interactions and make an assertive effort to take a step back. Let the chips fall where they may, and take less ownership in their results. Our legacy is about the impact we have in this world, not fixing everyone in it.

I dislike vegetables.  Raw veggies I can do but When they are cooked we have a problem.  Needless to say I don’t intake my daily requirement of fruits and vegetables and rely on my vitamins to make up for it.  

I also have a serious sweet tooth.  It strikes morning noon and night, all day every day. These two vices pose a serious challenge when trying to eat healthier and shed some fatty fat fat.   

I may have found my solution.  Oh got a juicer.  I have blenders and the smoothie maker, but why not a juicer?  Kitchen gadgets may be my weakness, but that’s for another day.  

I researched some juice recipes and decided the first I would try is carrot juice.  Cooking the carrots is not requires so we are already starting off on a positive note in my book.  

Yep, my first concoction would be carrot juice.  Off to the store to load up on carrots, apples, and oranges.  

My guys in the meantime are pretty certain I lost my mind wanting to try carrot juice, knowing my dislike of veggies and have zero to no interest in carrot juice but they went along for the ride to show their support.  

I have owned my juicer for 3 days and have made four batches of carrot juice.  It’s gone as soon as I make it!  A glass of delicious fruits and veggies for me, and one for each of my guys.  Ha!  Not so crazy momma for the win!  

My hiccup came when I threw caution to the wind and added in some turmeric and ginger to boost the nutritional value.  Sooooo, let’s just say that is going to require some more research and serious tweaking.  Ike’s!   Maybe this batch will be health shots.  

Either way I am extremely satisfied with my newest kitchen gadget and the idea of taking in some serous vitamins.  I’m on the hunt for some new recipes and will keep you all updated the juice recipes we try!   Getting those veggies 🥕 

Today would have been Betty Whites 100th birthday.  America morned her loss  just a little over two weeks before we would have celebrated with her.  So today we remember her and celebrate the beautiful mark she left on our world. 

She was a beloved actress, comedian, animal activist and friend.  

Age was but a number to her, and she had no intention of stopping.  She made us laugh and had an uncanny way of making sense of our confusing and sometimes scary world.  She survived multiple pandemics, saw 32 wars, survived three husbands, and she even holds the Guinness book of world records for longest career for female entertainers. 

Mrs. White didn’t just sit and watch tho, she served in WWII  in the American Women’s Voluntary Services.  She delivered supplies via a PX truck by day and night were spent at grand dances meant to give soldiers a grand send-off before they shipped out.  

Betty white was above all else kind.  She genuinely cared for people.  She was, in her every day life, what we all should strive to be if even just a little.  

Many will give to a animal rescue in her name and in honor of her love for animals.  She herself said if things hadn’t worked out in Hollywood, she would have become a zookeeper.  If you give in her honor, I applaud you.  

May I also suggest in honor of her nearly 100 years on this earth, and the hole she left behind in our hearts, we all try to be a little more like her.  Be kind, be a friend, do good because it makes you feel good.  Do for others because you can.  Say kind things, because they can change someone’s day.  Find the positive amongst a field of negatives.  Laugh because it’s contagious.  

Take note from the life of Betty White and try to be just a little better than you were yesterday. 

Thank you for sharing your life with us Mrs White and thank you for being our friend.  

I met someone. I knew I would eventually. At 48 years old, it happened. I am very excited, yet I had a difficult time putting into words what he means to me. These are feelings are like none I have ever felt before.

He has short dark hair and olive skin. He has the most beautiful, loving, innocent eyes. They are blue like the ocean. When he smiles at me, I see a sparkle like the sun reflecting off the whitecaps.

His smile could melt the heart of the grinch. He laughs at all of my jokes and loves to sit and talk. He is one of the best listeners. I can share my secrets, and only hope he will trust me with his. I have told him so many stories and he listens with baited breath, hanging on my every word.

He loves to snuggle, and will occasionally watch a movie, although he quickly looses interest and usually falls asleep.

He is a mommas boy, and to be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I just adore his momma.

After some discussion on what our pet names would be for each other, we decided that I would call him my pumpkin pie, and he would call me his Gammie.

We were able to spend some amazing time with our grandson over the holidays, and since he left I have missed him something terribly. I only hope we will get you see him very soon, but until then I will FaceTime him and talk to him. Congratulations to my son and daughter-in-law on a beautiful baby boy and thank you for making me a Gammie. ❤️❤️

All she wanted was a happy family and the man she fell in love with. She needed him to step up and help her help him. The fight within him was bigger and badder than either of them could battle alone. She told him, get help or it had to be over and he agreed.

Within 24 hours he had scheduled an appointment to start the good fight. Fighting the internal battle that was not only controlling his days and nights, but was also pushing away his family, the one who loved him the most.

The appointment date gave her hope, but she knew he had to open and honest with the doctors, admit his struggles and be willing to receive treatment. She prayed he would.

He went to his first appointment and when he got home, he seemed on edge. After dealing with this mood for many years, she left him to his thoughts and went about the normal evening routine.

Mixed with emotions she moved about in a cloud of pride mixed with the a dash of hope, watered down with defeat. He went and saw someone just like she asked but he seemed the same. She laid down in bed at the end of this day and just asked god to take control and help them, because she was out of hope.

As the days turned into weeks, she slowly began to notice changes. They started small, but to her, they were life changing. Small changes began to grow, and soon the good days began to outnumber the bad. Her miracle has begun.

He was still going to his appointments, and he was more than four weeks into his medications when she felt a calm surrounding them. She saw this man, the one she fell in love with, the one who had succumbed to his rage and anger. Her man was back.

After the kids were in bed for the night, they were cuddling on the couch watching whatever mind numbing show that happened to be on, she had to ask. She had to know about the doctor, the medicine, how he was feeling, she needed to know everything. Just asking could set him off, but he was her world and she wanted to be part of the healing. She wanted to help if she could.

He didn’t provide a lot of information but managed to share just enough to settle her mind. The doctor was talking to him about an incident that happened before she even knew him, something she had no idea about. He didn’t elaborate except to say he thought it was helping to talk to the doctor, and they also put him on some medications that he was beginning to see work. His answers were calm and he didn’t seem the least bit aggravated that she had asked. Then, from nowhere he said something that she had never seen coming. He said “I’m sorry that I have been difficult to live with, and thank you for giving me the push to talk to someone.” She knew at that moment, while their road ahead may not be easy, they would be ok.

She was frightened to the core. The only relief she felt was in knowing that PTSD was wreaking havoc on him, her marriage and her family. The signs were there, but how will he react when she brings up what she has learned?

When he has a moment, the kind of moment that sends him off into a rage, brings out the man that is hard to love, he no longer hears what anyone says. He either lashes out with his sharp toungue or retreats and becomes recluse and distant.

It’s not a wonder he doesn’t know there is a problem. In his years in the Army, words were drilled into them like: “man up,” “if you’re broke your weak,” “mental illness is an excuse,” and many more. She could barely get him to see a doctor when he was sick.

This time had to be different. She had to make him see that something was just not right (saying something is wrong sounds so bad), that he needed to look into the possibility, and that their future together depended on it.

Today would have to be the day. She would have to be brave, but firm. She had to do this the right way if she was going to get through to him.

He had come home from work, eaten his dinner, and relaxed with a drink watching tv in the living room. She had bathed the kids and they were playing in their rooms. She must have his undivided attention. The kids were a distraction and a stressor for him, so with them occupied, she took her perfect opportunity.

She sat down next to him, and with a warm, calm smile asked him if they could talk for a few minutes. Her voice was a bit shaky, so he knew this was important whatever she had to say. He turned down the volume on the tv and accommodated her. There were no signs of tension, no sign of apprehension.

Fear still streaking through her soul, she was after all jeopardizing the life she knew and once she put it out there, there was no going back. She looked him directly in the eyes and said: “I know that you love me and our babies with all of your heart, but I have noticed that the children seem to aggravate you very easily. You also mentioned a while back that you were having trouble sleeping as well.” There were many more symptoms he was displaying but she didn’t want to overwhelm him by pointing everything he did wrong. He looked at her and apprehensively agreed with a “yeah, maybe.”

The answer was not a no. She needed him to agree, say yes. She had already started, she had to continue to navigate his emotional minefield. “I ran across an article today that caught my attention because some of the things that you are going through are very similar to the symptoms of something called Post Traumatic Stress.” She avoided the four letters all over the news that were associated with those taboo things a ‘good’ Soldiers didn’t talk about Army: PTSD. Before he could argue or react, she pressed on “and I don’t really know everything that you had to go through while you were deployed, but this is something I need you should explore.”

He was listening, but still no yes. She could see in his body language that he was getting uncomfortable with the conversation. Now, she had to finish what she needed to say. “I love you, and I will be here for you, but only if you agree to talk to your provider, call one of the hotlines, or reach out to some kind of professional. You are mean when you get upset. Your children love you, but are afraid of you. I can only do so much to protect you from all of the things that aggravate and anger you. You need help, or I can not be with you.”

There she said it. Her life would be forever changed. Either he was going to agree to help, to start the conversation, or their life together would be severed. She would have to do what was right for her, and for their children.

Husband number one is handsome, charming, charismatic, sensitive, gentle, and funny. He would do anything for his wife and children. He is faithful and loyal, the man of her dreams.

Husband number two is also handsome, and loves his family. He provides for them and works hard. His moods fluctuate from cheerful to anxious, happy to aggravated. His demeanor changes like the flip of a light switch. The children he loves, playing with their legos and laughing, cause his anxiety to elevate at an alarming rate. He’s angry, he’s mean, his words are cruel and cutting.

What if I told you husband number one and husband number two are one in the same? He doesn’t know why he looses control. He is broken but doesn’t have any visible signs. No scarring, no bruising or cuts. His wounds are internal, pushed deep down inside.

One day, after the millionth time he had yelled at the kids to shut up while they were playing with their toys, his wife had had enough. She had been researching, googling, searching for an explanation. Searching for a reason this seemingly perfect man had a totally imperfect side.

She found a random blog. A wife and mother writing about her eerily similar husband. Chills streamed through her body as she read on. What is wrong with this father, this husband, this soulmate? Perhaps it’s not him, it’s her. Maybe she is putting too much on his plate? Maybe she is just making mountains out of molehills.

As she read on, she saw the all too familiar behaviors. Agitation, irritability, hostility, hyper-vigilance, self-destructive behavior, and social isolation. And then she saw something she had heard about but never considered: PTSD.

But how? Yes her husband was retired from the Army and yes he had been to combat, but he was never injured or shot. He doesn’t talk much about his service, but he is proud to have served. Surely the man she loved, shared a family with, her best friend would have told her all about such a significant event or that it was bothering him, right?

She googled PTSD and what she read would become life changing. His symptoms, his behaviors, everything about his two different beings were all explained away by this thing called PTSD.

As she read on, she absorbed as much knowledge about the disorder, others stories of this invisible devil, and then the most encouraging news of all! Even though this disease isn’t necessarily curable, in many cases it’s treatable and manageable.

Now she is faced with what will be the most difficult challenge in her marriage, how will she tell him her suspicions. How will he react? She doesn’t know what will come of this discussion, but what she does know is her marriage and her family are depending on its success. How will he react?

I love to shop but I love to save money when I shop even more. As a middle age woman, my weight fluctuates but my wardrobe doesn’t always keep up. New clothes every six months is not exactly something I want to budget for.

With department stores closing at alarming rates and COVID making it less appealing to actually leave the house for a skirt or blouse, online shopping is today’s fashion must. For those of you who want to dress up your wardrobe, love the latest fashion AND want to do it on a budget, let me introduce you to ThredUp!

From Kate Spade, Oscar de La Renta to H&M or Guess, they have it! They have new and gently used gems at your fingertips at prices you won’t believe. Sort by style, size, color, brand or fit. This is an entire mall in one store from the comfort of your living room. The quality is impeccable and their customer service is spot on.

Not only can you update your wardrobe, you can clean out your closet and sell to them. Their process is simple and self explanatory, and easier than having a garage sale at your own home. They do the work for you!

You don’t have to take my word for it, give it a try! Click on the link and get $10 off your first order, no strings attached, no auto ships, no stress! Your not going to regret this site! I promise!

Link to $10 off http://www.thredup.com/r/ZC4UUX

I have been baking for a long time with a lot of success. The one recipe I struggled to master was the chocolate chip cookie. Growing up I had a neighbor, Mrs Brian, who loved to have my little brother and I come by for a visit. I remember visiting her and she would always have fresh baked cookies. Chocolate chip cookies! Those cookies were absolutely amazing. They had that little crunch when you bit into them but the center was so soft.

I spent the better part of my baking life trying to find that recipe. No matter how good I thought a recipe turned out, there was never anything quite as good as Mrs. Brian’s.

Guess what friends, I have finally figured it out and I’m about to share it with all of you. Go ahead and throw away all of those old recipes because once your crunch into these amazing babies, well, you’ll understand!

This recipe calls for sea salt. This is a must! You must follow this one exactly. The only addition is if you want to include nuts. Crushed walnuts and pecans work best. Here we go, let’s make some cookies!

Ingredients 

• 1 stick, unsalted butter at room temperature
• 2 cups light brown sugar (packed)
• 1.5 tsp vanilla
• 2 large eggs
• 2.5 cups flour
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1/2 tsp sea salt
• 1-1 1/2 cup semi sweet chocolate chips

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 350 and place rack in center.
2. In a large bowl or mixer, combine butter, eggs, vanilla and brown sugar. Mix until well combined.
3. Add in your flour, baking soda, and sea salt. Combine well.
4. Stir in your chocolate chips.
5. Place a piece of parchment paper on your cookie sheet. No need to grease at all.
6. Using your kitchen teaspoon, scoop a overfill teaspoon of dough onto your prepared cookie sheet.
7. Bake for 11-13 minutes. Cookies should just be beginning to turn light brown.
8. Remove cookie sheet from oven and let sit for a couple minutes.
9. Move cookies to wire rack for cooling. Eat and enjoy!

Snow day number 5. It’s white, it’s deep and it’s cold. Ok guys, this calls for a soup kinda meal to warm us up. This is the only way to battle Mother Nature, find joy in our kitchens.

Around here, we don’t have any good Italian restaurants. Maybe that’s why when I come across an Italian recipe, even a soup, my guys are chomping at the bit for it, literally!

As usual, this recipe can be tweaked to be low carb! Add some extra zucchini and don’t bother with those lasagne noodles of your watching your carbs. For this one, because the guys love their carbs, I opted for both zucchini and noodles and just removed the noodles from my bowl. Well most of them.

Altogether, you need about three hours of cooking time for this recipe. You can do it in the crock pot all day if you want, and low for 8 hours will work out just fine. We are going to make this in my Dutch oven, because I love love it and I have nothing but time today.

Ingredients 

• 1 lb mild Italian sausage
• 1 red onion, diced
• 2 TBS olive oil
• 3 cloves minced garlic
• 5 sliced Bella mushrooms, sliced
• 1 jar pasta sauce
• 2 TBS Italian Seasoning
• 2 TBS oregano
• 1 Basil leaf
• 2 TBS Garlic Salt
• 7 C chicken broth
• 1 med zucchini sliced 1/4 in thick
• 2 cup fresh baby spinach
• 9 lasagne noodles broken into 1 inch pieces
• 7 ounce ricotta cheese
• 1/2 C shredded mozzarella cheese
• 1/2 C shredded Parmesan

Instructions

1. In dutch oven, cook sausage until done. Move to bowl and set aside.
2. In still hot Dutch oven add olive oil, onions, and garlic. Cook until onions begin to become translucent.
3. Add back the sausage. Add spaghetti sauce, chicken broth, mushrooms and seasoning. Cover and simmer on low for 2 hours.
4. After 2 hours, add noodles and stir. Place lid back on pot and continue to simmer.
5. After about 30 min, add zucchini and spinach. Place lid on pot and simmer 30 more minutes.
6. While your soup is finishing up. Combine cheeses together in bowl.
7. When your pasta is cooked, remove from heat. Ladle the soup into a bowl. Put a dollop (heaping tablespoon or two) of cheese into your soup and enjoy!
8. If you have any leftovers (good luck,) they can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.

Warm up from the inside out with this hearty Italian gem. Nothing says love quite like the flavors in this savory stew.

I like to use Italian sausage links. I squeeze the sausage out of the casing in small balls. You don’t have to do this step and can just slice the links into bite size pieces. I am just not a fan of the casing. Most importantly, be sure to use Italian sausage! If you like things a little spicier you may choose to go with the spicy version of Italian sausage.

If you want more veggies, celery and green peppers can be added. I love a recipe that has flexibility to add things our family likes. Let’s make some soup!

Ingredients 

• 2 packages Italian Sausage links (slice into bite size pieces)
• One yellow onion diced
• 2 TBS olive oil
• 3 cloves minced garlic
• 2 carrots peeled and sliced
• 2 TBS tomato paste
• 2 TBS Italian Seasoning
• 1/2 C chicken broth
• 28 ounces chicken broth
• 1 14.5 ounce can fire roasted tomatoes
• 115 ounce can tomato sauce
• 2 sprigs rosemary
• 1/2 C roasted red peppers chopped
• 3/5 cup Orzo pasta
• 1 15 ounce can white beans (rinsed and drained)
• 2 cups baby spinach
• Salt to taste

Instructions

1. In large skillet cook sausage until done. Move to crockpot.
2. In same skillet cook onions, carrots, garlic in olive oil until onions are translucent. About 3 minutes.
3. Stir in tomato paste and Italian seasoning. Pour 1/2 cup chicken broth over mixture and stir. Bring to a boil and scrape up any cooked on revenants from bottom of the pan. Remove from heat and transfer to crock pot. Add remaining ingredients except beans, pasta and spinach.
4. Cook on low for 6-8’hours. 30 min prior to eating add beans, pasta and spinach. Add salt as needed. Stir and put on high for 15 minutes.
5. Shut off crock pot and let set for 15 mon as this soup is very hot. Serve with your favorite Italian bread.

Snowy winter days call for that steaming savory chili like momma used to make. Over the years I have tried and made multiple kinds of chili.

This recipe is a combination of several of my favorites carefully put together for that hearty, tasty, sweet heat that warms your tummy and almost makes you look forward to a snow day.

My family is torn between oyster crackers, saltine crackers, or Fritos. You pick, cause they all go good on top of this recipe.

Let’s make some chili!

Ingredients

• 2 pounds ground Turkey
• One yellow onion chopped
• 2 TBS olive oil
• 10 baby bella mushrooms (sliced)
• 2 cans Ranch Style Beans
• 1 14 oz can diced tomatoes
• 1 6 oz can tomatoe sauce
• 1 cup water
• 2TBS chili powder
• 1 tsp garlic powder
• 2 tsp salt
• 1 tsp cayenne pepper
• 2 med chili guajillo peppers (no seeds)

Instructions

1. In Dutch oven or large saucepan heat olive oil. Add onions and cook until they begin to turn translucent.
2. Add ground Turkey to onions and cook until browned.
3. Chop up peppers. Be sure to remove seeds unless your looking for some extra zing.
4. Add peppers and all remaining ingredients to your meat and onions. Reduce to low and simmer 1-2 hours. This will allow all of these spices to blend well.
5. Serve with shredded cheddar cheese, crackers, or whatever your favorite chili topping is.