DoveSoup Art

I pray I grow into a gracious old lady In advance - I apologize for posting yet another story with more of the same crap about living with an elderly parent. Here is the story... saga... my complaint... by bitch... my moan. While I was getting dinner started, mom obviously heard me moving around in the kitchen. I know this because it wasn't long before she showed up to see what was going on (read: looking food laying around to eat), She asked if there was anything she could do to help. Good start... I asked if she wanted to learn how to make pizza dough, "Would you like to help me?" Her reply; "No" I said, "There is no hand mixing or kneading, all we have to do is measure the ingredients and put them into the KitchenAid, it does all the work." Her reply: "Oh" Can anyone tell me - Why did she ask? Couldn't she have at least come into the kitchen and watch... look slightly interested... measured a couple of teaspoons of salt? Mayb

Matt was out of town last night, we (my 82 year old mother and I) spend part of our evening in the basement while tornado sirens blared. I have never seen blinding rain like I did last night. There is a 1 acre field between my house and the neighbor's, I could not see my neighbor's huge 2-story home through the heavy rain. Mom and I are fine, although getting her 82 year old butt out of bed, her robe and her shoes on, then down stairs was fun. Getting her down the precipitous basement stairs was even funner . With warning alarms blaring I then had to go and collect mom's poodle, who for some reason decided the basement was not where she wanted to be... go figure. The big brave dog had enough dog-sense to get in the basement and stay there. I could hear him whimpering somewhere in the corner. So there we sat - Two old women, two flashlights, two candles, two books (like we are going to read while the house is torn from it's foundation) and two whinny-scaredy-c

I had okra in a New Orleans style restaurant in Pasadena California once. I thought it was the most fabulous thing I ever tasted. I wondered where okra had been all my life? I wondered why everyone did not eat and love this delicious vegetable? Why wasn't okra on every restaurant menu? That was the 1st and the last time I loved okra. I gave it several more tries but each time is was totally disgusting. I tried both frozen and fresh, nothing could have triggered my gag reflex more efficiently and effectively. I think cooking okra is like growing hydrangeas, you just gotta have the knack or you may as well hoist the white flag. Dove

I'm ten published poems beyond thrilled and about a 1/2 century past total (give me meds) anxiety. My chest is all puffed out with pride and my heart is beating madly with (oh my god) fear. I suppose that's the yin and yang of it. Apparently my feelings about returning to college after a 23 year break are zenfully balanced between suffering and happiness.

I'm talking about the " Shish Kebab Mediterranean Grill ‎" in Columbus, Ohio. I met the Chef (Mike) in the grocery store, he had a shopping cart full of gallon jugs of milk and I knew it had to be for yogurt - so I asked. Sure enough he makes his own yogurt. Anyplace that makes their own yogurt, well we just had to try it. So I took my husband, Matt, for his birthday. It was a Monday night so things were quiet, the service was perfect, the waiter dignified, helpful and friendly. Oh Lordy, we should have made a dinner of all the fabulous appetizers.(around $5.00 each and big enough for two) So many wonderful things to taste and not enough room in the tummy. The food was fresh and flavors were fabulous. Be sure to try the Turkish wine, it was excellent and aromatic, not your standard glass of red. We ended the meal with Baklava and Turkish coffee, then the waiter read my coffee grounds... how cool is that? Dove

It’s really for all abused people (male - female) who have survived the devastation caused by someone who claimed to love you. In this poem the abuser is the male, it could easily be the female. Mom still communicates like an abused woman, she still wonders if all the horrible things he said about her are possibly true... that maybe she is as bad and at fault as he claims. I hope she will recover and the happy person she once was, will bloom again. The Abuser If he was the foundation you were the solid ground on which he stood. If he was the house you were the roof , the windows with storm shutters and gingerbread trim. Face it my dear through all his bull, you are the flower that bloomed in the middle of his shit.

Although long and sometimes wearisome, winter in Ohio can be beautiful, when it snows. It is exceptionally dreary when we have days on end of below freezing temps, leafless trees, gray skys and brown grass. The snow is what transforms Ohio's uninspiring winter into an enchanted realm. Frost covered Crab Apple Cuervo's snow covered snout Last summer's picnic garden

My husband, Matt, knows I prefer brown eggs. Matt also knows that brown eggs with "freckles" tickle me. He actually checks for cartons with the most freckled eggs when we shop for groceries. This morning I opened the egg carton and found this note.

When it comes to pesto, I wing it. Most pesto recipes are so stingy with ingredient amounts they never have enough of what we like in them so I always change the recipe to suit our taste. When it comes to pesto, I don't measure exact amounts of anything, I go by consistency and taste, but I'll give you a general rundown. You will need to have the following ingredients on hand. Cilantro, pine nuts, sunflower seeds or pepitas (nuts must be unsalted raw), fresh garlic, EVOO , fluer de sel or sea salt, lime juice and a good aged Asiago or Parmesan cheese. If you use a prepared, grated Parmesan cheese with Kraft on the label, a pox on you! In your food processor or blender toss in the first 4 ingredients. 1: One bunch of washed and dried, roughly chopped cilantro, stems and all Cut away the biggest bottom stems & toss, they're tough and will spoil the pesto 2: Two or three smashed cloves of garlic More can be added once you taste it and find out just how hot your garlic r