Give Me A Break

A million years ago when I first started blogging, it was a different world. Mostly, it seemed like a nicer world at least in terms of how folks felt about making comments on blogs and such things. It was before “never read the comments” became the modus operandi of most folks. Is it me, or has the cyber world started to feel less polite? (That is a rhetorical question, of course. Because it really has become a dangerous place for many, and an uncomfortable one for others.)

Because of that, there are many, many topics I refrain from writing about these days. It just isn’t worth the feedback sometimes. However, I decided to stop biting my tongue on one topic and hope that the responders are at least polite on this one. Continue reading

Never Read The Comments; My GF Plea

I’m warning you, I’m feeling grumbly today so if you don’t want to read my grumbles, you should go Google cute photos of kittens or puppies or something. Why am I so grumbly? Oh, I did that thing I promised myself I would never do. I let myself scroll down on an article and started to read the comments.

Why are so many folks such meanie-pants in their comments? The things people think it’s okay to say on the internet makes me lose my faith in humanity. Like to the point that not even sparkly kitten GIFS really helps.

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Feeding Others

It seems my whole life has been spent feeding others. Obviously, not my earliest years, but since I was about five I have been cooking, baking and feeding others. In those many years, my role as a “feeder” has shifted and evolved, but it has stayed with me. The crux is that I love to cook and I love to feed people. And yet, feeding others has a way of starving critical bits of your own self.

To be in the role of feeding others is often to be also in the role of looking for affirmation. As a cook, there is nothing better than the seat dance of a happy eater. A case in point? Several days ago my son’s friend was over for a play date and after eating lunch, I gave her a brownie. The batch was a gluten free disaster so I simply put the overly-gooey brownie in a bowl, warmed it in the microwave, squirted some whipped cream on top, and presented it, voila! Remember that special scene in When Harry Met Sally? That was our little lunch guest. “Ohhhhh. Ahhhhhh, this is soooooo gooooood! Ohhhhh!” Seeing her in obvious ecstasy was both funny and affirming. Here was someone who definitely liked what I was feeding her.

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