Ever fried a turkey? It’s simple, right? Buy $400 of peanut oil and fry for like 45 minutes compared to the 4-hour saga of baking. Sounds too good to be true? Because IT IS! You have to let the darn oil reach, like, 6,000 degrees before dunking Mr. Turkey. And if it’s cold and windy outside, well, just put him in the oven. Not too many Thanksgivings ago, we thought we would serve our guests a piping hot turkey – straight from the fryer. After waiting 1.5 hours later than we planned, we served the bird. Let’s just say he could have flown away. #thanksgivingfail
Not quite sure what the hell the title of this inaugural post means, but, unlike that fried turkey, it’s a good start. Hopefully, this little blog will be the start of a meaningful, fun, and fruitful relationship.
Why a blog? At your age? With your limited writing skills? And tired sense of humor?
If you must know…
I am a 44 year old, married mom of 2 adult-aged wanna-be adults. I love my little family, but I have issues. I suspect most of us do. So I’m putting it out there; sacrificing a little dignity for the greater good. We may wax poetic about our Pinterest woes or build a bitch session around education. From the pigskin to PMS and all points in between. We will discuss it, Adele it, Netflix it, Google it, love it and leave it.
While I lack even the most basic of writing skills, I come equipped with voice and heart with a double shot of wisdom. Because I learn from mistakes like partially cooked turkeys can kill humans.
So, for you and for me, I’m turning up the volume and letting this little light shine. From silence to song and absence to brilliance. Together.