Musings of a Louisville St. Louisan

I could only  imagine what it was like for you to watch your son die before I had my child.  Now that I do have a beautiful baby girl I can't imagine the anguish it caused you. In eternity past you fellowshiped with him.  He was beside you when you created the world and he held all things together.  You watched his face as you told him what needed to be done on earth and that he was the one that would have to suffer in shame.  You adoringly looked on as Mary-who was made pregnant by the Holy Spirit-grew carrying your precious son in her belly, your eyes filled with tears of joy as he was born and placed in swaddling clothes in a manger.  You looked on with pride as he taught the religious leaders in the temple at age 12.  And marveled at the man he had become when he fed the 5,000 and brought a dead girl back to life.  Your heart broke as he pleaded and begged with tears of blood that you might take the cup from him. You held back your mig...

I have a confession to make:  I love breakfast foods.  One of my favorite indulgences growing up when I would go on trips with my church was sausage biscuits from McDonalds.  Unfortunately I can't have sausage anymore, but my love for breakfast foods has not wavered.  Something I have eaten on a handful of times is a quiche.  I always loved it, but had never attempted to make it myself until recently.  I made one for a clothing exchange party that I threw back in the fall.  I felt that it fell short of my previous quiche experiences.  It was soggy.  Not just a little soggy, but that terrible wet, squishy texture that will haunt your dreams for nights after you had it...Okay, maybe not quite that bad, but it does seem to haunt your kitchen.  There is nothing I hate more is soggy eggs.  And I'm sure my friends were just being nice when they said it was good.  I decided to take the non soggy quiche challenge about two week...

I have never been a huge fan of meatloaf...until I could no longer have your traditional meatloaf.  For some reason ever since hamburger smothered in ketchup, mustard and Worcestershire sauce sounds better than it ever did before.  So you can imagine, when I was watching Rachael Ray and saw her make meatloaf with horseradish mash and gravy my mouth began to water (and I don't even like horseradish!).  I knew I wouldn't be able to replicate this recipe and stay true to my IC diet, but I could definitely tweak it here and there to make something delectable to satisfy my meatloaf craving. And this is what I came with....you know you want some.   Some of the switch ups I made were olive oil for butter, cream cheese for sour cream, and parsley for chives.  I also try to add nutrients to meals where I can.  When I make my mashed potatoes I have recently started adding sweet potatoes.  My husband isn't too keen on sweet potatoes, but I can ...

Drama is very important in life:  You have to come on with a bang.  You never want to go out with a whimper.  Everything can have drama if done right.  Even a pancake .  Juli a Child  I have the fondest memories as a kid of my mom or dad getting up and making pancakes for us.  Sometimes it was for a holiday and sometimes it was for no reason at all.  Every once in a while my sister, brother and I would get up before my parents and make pancakes to serve them breakfast in bed.  We would love to use my mom's breakfast tray that hung on the wall in the kitchen and then crowd on the bed to talk as they would eat.  We were far from the Cleaver family, but this always brought us all together.   Pancakes are a staple in most American households.  With simple ingredients these delectable saucers of sweet bready goodness can be made.  They are also a go to when you can't figure out what to make for dinner....

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."   Margaret Wolf Hungerford  Me (left) and My Sister (right) When I was a little girl I remember my grandpa Ted would always talk about all of his "beautiful girls."  When I heard it I believed it was true because he was always (well almost always) right about everything...at least when you were in his house, that is.  I had a cousin of mine who told me every time she saw me with her contagious smile, "You're so pretty".  I thought, "If Theresa is saying it (because she's so awesome), then it must be true".  I didn't really question what they said because they loved me and that was all that mattered. I am not sure when the insecurities of not feeling up to par as far as my looks went came into play.  It was quite possibly in elementary school when I shot up taller than all of the other kids and stood towering over them.  I remember one time when we were playing a game in gym and ...

I get a lot of questions about interstitial cystitis .  I get them from people who are curious about the condition, people who know someone with it and people who have recently been diagnosed with it.  I get them from people who think they may have it.  Some people may wonder why on earth someone would post such personal things about this medical condition.  It's not so people will feel sorry for me or think of me as a "sick" person.  And it's definitely not to make people feel uncomfortable.  It's to create an awareness about the condition and help people who do have it to know they are not alone, but also to help people who may have it but they haven't been diagnosed yet.  It seems really weird, but after six years talking about my bladder to people it doesn't embarrass me or make me feel like an old woman.  It is just part of my story.  And this is the story (or at least one day of it), that I am sharing with you.  My day usually st...

When I was a child I remember singing the song "Jesus Loves the Little Children".  I loved the song because as a child I loved the thought that Jesus loved me and that I was precious in his sight.  In my sweet, child-like wonder it never occurred to me that there were people who thought that Jesus didn't love all of the children of the world.  That Jesus only loved people who fit a perfect mold of who they thought were the elite and "elect".  With Hitler, it was the ones with blond hair and blue eyes.  With half a nation it was only the white kids that Jesus loved. It wasn't until I was a little older that I started to understand the history behind segregation, Martin Luther King, slavery and Rosa Parks.  I was horrified at the footage of high school students being hit by high pressure water hoses for respectfully protesting in Alabama and saddened with the story of Rosa Parks being asked to go to the back of the bus so a white man could have her seat. ...