Deceptive? Absolutely. Delicious? Not so much.

Let me just say if it smells like a dirty diaper while steaming, chances are it will taste like poop in your eggs.

I just got that cookbook by Jessica Seinfield (Deceptively Delicious) where you steam, puree and hide veggies in foods your kids will eat. But cauliflower eggs? Even I couldn’t convince myself they were good. I thought it was just because I knew there was cauliflower in them so maybe that’s why they were gross.

Bracing for the worst, I told the girls “Your eggs might taste different today because they have cheese in them.” Not a lie. They did have cheese.

But one bite and 13 gags later, the man was in the kitchen making “normal eggs”.

Please don’t take offense, Jessica. You are so pretty. And your husband is so funny. And I totally believe you that your didn’t copy your book idea from that other girl. As for the recipes, so far the turkey chili and couscous with pureed red pepper and carrots were both really good. And even the cauliflower banana bread was a hit (so I added chocolate chips to it. Sue me.) But eggs and cauliflower will never be okay. Never. I know you said that you tested out these recipes many times on your kids. Seriously? The throw up eggs? Come on.

I’m not giving up, though. There is a mac and cheese recipe that I can’t wait to try. And the little pizzas with hidden spinach might pass the test, too. Besides, I can’t stop now. I have 47 little packages of liquid veggies in my fridge.

a different kind of chatting

Walking along the greens across from the harbor last summer while on vacation with my family, my plan was to capture the lighthouse during sunset with my new low-light lens. As it turns out, the sun hid behind the clouds, casting mediocre light at best. I put the lens cap on my camera and turned my attention inward.

I became aware of a deep sadness while standing there in the wind…a longing left unmet. The word “hopeless” darted across the screen of my mind and the feeling that followed was just that. So I sat, and told the Lord what I had so many times fully expecting to get up and walk away feeling a sense of defeat and fear of unmet need.

This time, though, I spoke out loud, my voice carried quickly away on the wind. And somehow, a change…slight and almost unnoticeable. If I hadn’t been looking for it, I may have missed it. But I continued to repeat the truth about God…He is good, He has good things planned for me, He is with me, His loving-kindness endures forever. In that moment, light began to make its way through the darkness and the heaviness began to lift. It wasn’t drastic or immediate, but it was life-giving to hear my own voice speak what is true.

God did it, too. He said, “Let there be light.” And there was light (Genesis 1:3). He could have thought about light in His head, and light would have come. But He chose to speak and He tells us to speak as well. Jesus told His disciples that if they had faith the size of a mustard seed “you will say to this mountain, ‘move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible to you.” (Matthew 17:20). He didn’t tell them to think at the mountain. He told them to speak to the mountain.

I’ve thought about that day often in the past eight months. And I am becoming convinced of the creative, healing power of speaking truth out loud. To think, say, and hear the words said in my own voice forces me to stop and get out of my own head…which if I’m honest, can be the scariest place of all to get stuck in.

yesterday was show and tell

Chat du ciel

This is my blog translated into French. I can’t think of a more important way for Google to spend their time…I mean, really. Don’t you just picture a long line of desks in a blue-lit room with a bunch of people from different countries sitting at computers, frantically translating blogs into their native languages? I think I like my site better in French. See what i mean? I feel so smart, so cultured. It looks like I’ve got lots and lots of important things to say. I even look better in French.
I guess those French people aren’t as self-focused as we are over here. They apparently have no translation for ‘about me’.

It makes me think of the time I was interpreting for a student (have I mentioned I use to work as a sign language interpreter? Well, I did. Before I had all these kids, that is). Anyway, I was interpreting for a high school student who asked me if 56 and fifty-six sounded the same when spoken out loud. Wha…..t? But then I thought more about it and realized what a legitimate question it was. In sign language, the number 56 is signed 5 – 6. And if you spell it out, well, you spell it out. But when you say the number or the word in English, it’s the same.

I really do love languages. I’ll have to share more about my life as an interpreter. There are many wonderful tales to be told. In the meantime, check out your blog translated into French. It’s cool. And it will make all those people in the blue-lit room feel as though their work has purpose. It could help to off set the excruciating pain they experience from the carpal tunnel syndrome.

*10:20 pm: It has just been brought to my attention that my blog name has been translated “sky cat”. The real French translators must be on a writer’s strike. Consider my name changed from chatty to catty. Thank you and have a nice day.

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