A New Name & New Babies

Mochi (black) and Wasabi (tabby)

Mochi  and Wasabi

I’ve been slipping with the regularity of my posts. The main excuse for my laxity is the newly adopted babies above. It’s difficult to bustle and pivot around a kitchen with two tiny ones underfoot, sticking noses in cupboards and heads in the oven à la Sylvia Plath. One evening, I heard a thud in the fridge – a sure sign, I thought, that a precariously balanced jar had overturned. Upon my opening the door and peering inside, Wasabi jumped out from the bottom shelf. He had surreptitiously slipped by while mama’s attention was elsewhere. And, frankly, it’s easy to be distracted by two balls of fur cavorting across the hardwood floors.

Now that I’ve renamed my blog to something less offensive and, hopefully, scoured it of posts that may upset friends and family, I really must start dabbling in the kitchen – and on these pages – once again.



We have a new look.  I’ve lightened and brightened the site a bit, hopefully making it easier to read.  The topics remain the same – cooking and living – and not necessarily doing either one successfully.

I’ve just returned from gelato school in Italy.  I’m overwhelmed with the idea of regurgitating my experience on these pages today so, I’ll just show you a few of my favorite images from my adventure for now.

p.s. “Gelataia” is a female gelato maker, but for whatever reason, it reminds me a little too much as “genitalia”.

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Such great plans!


I had such great plans for my post today.  However, as is often the case, my “to do” list has ruled the day.  We are five years old today!  I can hardly believe it.  In these pages, I have stumbled, fallen, picked myself up, soared to new heights only to plummet back down to earth once again – and you’ve been there to watch it happen, sometimes offering a kind word of encouragement and, sometimes, a poke in the ribs.  I’m proud that these words have remained true (through my lens) and unedited, no matter how crazy or unattractive they have made me look.  You’ve seen my culinary and relationship triumphs – along with the disasters (and typos).  Thank you for sticking by me – I hope we make it to 10.


Oh my! Someone has been lingering here who shouldn’t. You could say that it’s my own damn fault – I haven’t taken much effort to conceal this site. I muse in a public forum, don’t do much to screen my identity, and my inner circle knows that I have a blog. You can find me by Googling my name – I think I show up on page 3.  Although, on a side note, the most Googled word that bring readers to my site is “Brazier” with “MacDonald’s wrapper” coming in a close second. Go figure.

These past four+ years, I’ve thought of this as my “diary in the nightstand” – we know it’s there, but out of respect, we don’t go near it.  Note to self:  don’t leave a diary in the nightstand.

Welcome to my playground. Like a car crash, you just couldn’t help looking.  I’m not leaving – this is where I explore my emotions and thoughts and I’m not afraid to get dirty and ugly – and let it all hang out (or use incorrect punctuation).  You won’t make me reconsider what I post here out of self-conciousness or edit my true feelings to make them more palatable.  This is where the mask of my daily life comes off – and I can just be.  You came here on your own – it’s up to you to digest what you’ve read.

46 Percent

One of the first blogging rules I learned was…

  1. Decide on a topic and stick to that topic. If you want to cover other topics, start a different blog.

I haven’t followed that rule and, depending on when you became a follower, you may have experienced a very different blog.  Five or six months ago, I was sharing the ugly, psychotic truth about the breakup that brought me to my knees.  My followers were bloggers dealing with their own relationship crises.  Lately, and completely unintentionally, my blog has turned to the lighthearted – recipes and canning and gelato.  As the clouds of depression cleared, I found myself  playing in the kitchen once again and following my bliss – and my followers have also changed to those who enjoy the culinary arts.

The second blogging rule I learned was…

  1. Write for yourself (or “write  like no one is reading”)

I’ve wanted to write about the following for a while, but I’ve been concerned my “foodie” followers are going to think this post has come out of left field.

I’m a member of a dating site that, in addition to a photo and a profile, includes a romantic compatibility percentage that’s based on questions we’ve answered.  Although I don’t rely on this compatibility scale completely, I have definitely ruled out those that don’t hit at least 70% compatibility.   I believe a couple should have a good set of shared values and interests to make a strong, connected, relationship – kindred spirits, so to speak. If we’re on opposite sides of the fence to begin with, it’s only going to get worse.

Unexpectedly,  a few months after we broke up, I found my ex on the same dating site.  For most of the time, I’ve kept his profile hidden.  In the past month, it hasn’t bothered me so much and I finally un-hid him.  His profile came up in my search the other day.  Surprisingly, our compatibility is a dismal 46%. 46 percent?  This was the man I loved, the man that seemed perfect for me, the man I could picture growing old with.  46 percent?  We never fought; we always seemed to have the same views – we had (I thought) a great relationship.  Who was this man?  How much did he keep hidden from me?  What was he really thinking while shaking his head “yes” in agreement to my observations?

Seven months ago, I thought I would never get over him.  I thought I was ruined forever and I had my one shot at happiness. Each week, it gets a little easier (with big thanks to the Wellbutrin).  This most recent discovery just helps a bit more to dislodge him from my heart.  I deserve better – I deserve more than 46%.