Cooked cabbage and other things…

Today I am grateful that there is such a thing in the world as cooked cabbage.  I know it smells funky and isn’t glamorous, but when it is fried up with onions and even a few potatoes, it tastes like gratitude.  Perhaps it is because it reminds me of Aunt Susie’s Halushki-minus the delicious little dumpling noodle thingies-but the peppered aftertaste on the palate is worth the cabbage smell.  As the maid says in Meet Me in St Louis, “Cabbage has a cabbage smell.”  Sure, she was stating the obvious, but that doesn’t make the statement any less true.

Yesterday, and maybe the day before, I didn’t add any notes on gratitude.  I was probably grateful for the chicken the adopted cousins named Jesse after the girl in The Boxcar Children, but I wasn’t really grateful enough to type anything up.  Jesse is a buff orpington.  She likes to jump up and get grapes, and cheese, and anything else she thinks would taste just right to a chicken.  She has a gentle beak, and does not accidentally mistake fingers for food.

Oh, today I am also grateful that the donkeys did not choose to poo quite as much in their stall last night.  When one has to scoop poop, the lighter the poop, the easier the scooping.  I would probably rather be talking about the new job for which I am grateful and inspired and passionate, but I don’t have one of those yet.  So, donkey poop it is!  For those of you with more refined tastes, the combination of cabbage and poop in the same post is perhaps a bit off-putting to your delicate sensibilities.  I understand.  However, when a gal lives on a farm which the gal’s father nicknamed “Poopy Pastures,” for a reason, poop goes with just about everything.  Speaking of, if anyone else has a great name for a farm, the mother would be thrilled to have an official name for the place.  We haven’t resorted to putting poopy pastures on the gate post sign yet…but we’re mighty close!

Mom’s cancer is causing her more pain again.  She says the blockers last about 24ish months in the longest cases.  That’s April for her.  So, I suppose I am most grateful that she is still here.  I’m not sure how we will pay for the blockers in the new year, but perhaps I’ll have that nifty spiffy shiny new meaningful job.  Anyway, that’s today.


Amy of Hummingbird Hill View All →

I’m just someone trying to figure out how to juggle ten acres, work, a mama with stage four cancer, and a whole lot of grumpy. This blog started out as “Grumpy Gal’s Guide to Gratitude,” but since all I really keep typing about is the garden, I figured I might as well own it! So, thanks for joining me as I try and figure out how the heck to kick myself in the booty and get on with life.

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