Rødkål: a Festive Side Dish

At a Christmas gathering some years ago, a friend whose birthday happens to be on Christmas Eve shared this bright, sweet-and-sour casserole. She tells me it's a "very traditional Danish dish, served with pork roast or duck or goose [or turkey, in our case], and not only at Christmas, but definitely part of Christmas dinner." (Rødkål translates as "red cabbage" and leads me to believe that this is really the only way to serve red cabbage in Denmark.)

She was kind enough to share her personal recipe. I've adapted it to work in a crockpot, which meant cutting the quantities in half. It makes fantastic leftovers or a pretty pot-luck contribution.

Recipe below.

Meditations

Philippians 4:8

I've struggled with insomnia since I was a child. I've even blogged about it a few times. A little over a year ago, I shared that I'd had a breakthrough. I'm happy to say that I've added some refinements to the approach that I shared there.

La retraite

Sunset at Apache Pier, Myrtle Beach

In French, the noun "la retraite" can mean both retreat and retirement. To retire is to "prendre la retraite" or to take a retreat, step away. I give this little linguistic lesson as a prelude to explaining why my husband and I have begun thinking about selling our suburban house and looking at rural properties.

Putting Things Back Where They Belong (A post for women)

Stephen and me with our four children.

Psst! This post gets very intimate. If that bothers you, you may want to move on to other stuff. Like this website full of things that make you say "Wow!"

Once upon a time, I had perky breasts, a flat stomach, and flawless skin. And then life happened. Time, aging cells, gravity, childbirth, hormonal changes. The result is that things are no longer quite where they used to be or where they ought to be.

A Slow Waning

I've heard that the closer you live to the equator, the more rapidly the sun sets. My mother, who grew up in northern Ontario, seems to be taking the polar route to her own sunset, drawing out each beautiful moment.

From Bad to Worse

My mother in the ER.

What can I say? My mother is old. She is frail and weak. Her days are numbered.

Update on Dorothy

My mother this past Easter, with flowers sent by my sister.

My mother is in her late 80s. A year ago, she suffered a "silent" heart attack that gave all of us an abrupt wake-up call. I haven't posted about her in a very long time, but she's still puttering along, like an Energizer bunny, but with a dwindling battery. (Even Energizers eventually run out of juice.)

On the Road and Off the Rails

Corporation Beach, Cape Cod, MA

I took a little road trip recently, to attend a memorial service for my aunt. It was one of those bittersweet trips where the reason for the visit is sad, but the warmth of loved ones is a treasure. But for anyone who has ever dieted, you will know that these excursions are a recipe for diet failure.

Quiche à Odette: The Easiest Quiche Ever

Quiche à Odette -- the world's easiest quiche

Last year, for pi day, I decided to make genuine quiche -- from scratch. We didn't eat until close to 8:00 p.m. (Dinner at our house is usually around 6.) It was delicious, but definitely not worth the time and effort, especially when compared with this super-easy, crustless option.

An Old Dog Learning New Tricks

Whole almonds and pumpkin seeds, packaged into measured snack-packs.

One of the things I have learned through dog-training is that you can't simply stop one behaviour without concurrently installing a new behaviour. You can try, but the drive to follow through on the dangerous or maladaptive behaviour will still be lingering in the animal's mind unless you give it a new direction.

Food Guides

The recipe for this delicious salad is here.

One of the great joys of retirement has been that I have the luxury of time -- and energy -- to prepare a healthy and tasty meal. When I was working, I would consider mealtime to be just another box to tick before everyone could get to the real purpose of the evening: R&R.

Slow and Steady

Tortoise by Pearson Scott Foreman, Wikimedia Commons

Every weight-loss program I've ever tried proposes a "reasonable" goal of 1-2 pounds per week. To do this generally means a net reduction of (at least) 500 calories a day, either consuming 500 calories less than you need or burning 500 more than you've eaten (or a combination of these).

Weight-Loss: The Plan

Christmas 1988 | A little Flashback Friday fun for you, huge shoulder pads and all.
I weighed approximately 110 pounds in this picture and was 26 years old.

Like many of you, I've struggled with my weight since my early 20s. I've done Weight Watchers (three times), Diet Center (twice), and Nutrisystem (once). Each diet worked, in the sense that I lost weight. I got down to either too slim (105 pounds) or a weight that I was happy with: 110-130 pounds. That's a 25-pound range, which reflects both the social pressure to be thin and the range of starting points.

Not Before You're Ready

My husband, Steve, and me at our son's recent graduation from his trade program. | 4 February 2016

My weight has been a struggle for, well, the past thirty years. Except for the periods when I have been pregnant*, dieted, or have gone on obsessive exercise binges, I have gained weight at approximately half a pound per month. I have an appetite that will not quit, and I have never found an exercise program that made me happy.

Well, over the past few months, a few things have conspired to push me to the point of readiness to make some changes.

Grammar Ninja: Parallel Structure

Grammar Ninja is back with a rant inspired by a sign posted at the Ottawa airport.

Oh, Interwebs!

Boudoir photography has become a "thing" -- women have sexy photos taken of themselves,
and then give them to their partners. This fellow gives it a twist and spoofs those photo shoots, with funny
(and surprisingly sexy) results. I love that he keeps his glasses on in most of the pictures.
See more (if you dare) on Pleated Jeans.

Welcome to my periodic round-up of things I've found online that make me smile, cry, laugh, think, shout, or drop my jaw. 

Snow Days of Yesteryear

Christine and me

The picture above shows quintessential 1970s winter. My little sister and I are bundled with multiple layers of (largely inefficient) winter garb. This was long before Thinsulate; we were warmed by layers of wool and nylon.

California Dreamin'

"Saddle up, pilgrims."
This bronze statue is at the eponymous John Wayne Airport in Orange County, CA

So, yah. I'm not dead, and I haven't stopped blogging. I'm just . . . not blogging as much as I used to. I just haven't had the urge to write so much. We'll see where that goes. For now, I have some pretty pictures from our recent trip to California.