Outside Looking In

As I sit here trying to collect myself after a sobbing fit, brought on when I had to answer the door to a gruff man asking for my husband (like he’s a common criminal) and hands me paperwork for family court. Lucky me, I get to be the recipient, and it’s not the first time. I am especially irritated when asked my name, age and height. I know he’s doing his job, but it took all my strength not to spit back at him, “Would you like my bra size and a DNA sample too?”

Happy effing holidays.

To be fair, this is not out of the blue, and it had to due with state regulations, blah blah blah and I'm sure it's nothing and will hopefully go away. I'm not blaming anyone for having to do the actual paperwork. I'm more upset at the way you're treated when these guys in cheap suits and shitty cars drop off this paperwork to your home. It's not fun.

As for the other stuff, well, I would like peace all year, and it’s something that I thought had been established. During the holidays, I would really like peace, compassion, and if a man is going to show up to my house in the middle of the day, he better be wearing a friggin Santa suit, spreading Christmas cheer, not interrogating me on the whereabouts of my husband.

I guess peace is a fragile thing. Maybe I don’t try hard enough. Perhaps I haven’t tried at all to be friends, let alone friendly, although I feel I’ve made attempts.  Those attempts just happen to feel constantly thwarted and there always seems to be a lack of compassion, understanding, and generosity when it comes to what we are going through.  And when my husband is getting criticized, judged, and attacked, then yes, my urge to be friendly disappears real quick. But come on, what do you expect?

The bottom line is, how do you not feel like you’re completely on the outside when someone has purposely put you there? In a glass box so they can watch, and then judge, everything you do? Use it to build an argument or agenda that you had no idea was bubbling below the surface? It feels like war, and I’m into peace, man. Love and harmony.  Just because I don’t send flowers or a hundred text messages (with smiley faces) each day doesn’t mean anything, except maybe I’m too busy.  Because I can get over getting treated like dog shit, each and every time. I can, I have and I will. But, understandably, it gets harder to want to try, and much easier to ask to be left alone.

Venison (Deer Meat) Recipes

I've recently had some people asking for venison recipes after my husband snagged his first buck on opening day. (Yay! So proud...) I've also finally gotten used to calling it venison and not deer meat. Not sure why it matters, but to hunters, it seems to matter.

While I do scope out recipes online or in my myriad cookbooks, I don't always follow recipes, if that makes any sense. What I love about cooking, as opposed to baking, is the creative process. I make the recipes my own, I don't measure - I eyeball it, and I adjust the taste as needed.  I advise you to do the same.

Happy cooking!

VENISON CHILI

Venison is lean, so you may want to add ground turkey. I do half and half. I also don’t really measure, so these are estimations. Enjoy!

Ingredients:

2-3	Cloves garlic, minced
1	Onion, diced
2	Yellow or orange bell peppers, diced
1 ½ lbs	Ground venison
1 ½ lbs	Ground turkey
1	1 can (28 oz.) Crushed tomatoes
1	1 can (28 oz.) Petite Diced Tomatoes (Fire Roasted are great in chili)
1	1 small can of tomato paste
1	1 bottle of barbeque sauce (we use Bull’s Eye)
1-2 Tbsp.	Chili powder (I also use a few shakes of Emeril’s
1 tsp	Salt
¼ tsp	Black pepper/red pepper (to taste)

Directions:

In a large dutch oven or sauce pot, sauté garlic, onion and peppers in a couple of tablespoons of butter and olive oil until tender, medium-low heat. Season with some chili powder, salt, pepper (you will season the veggies, meat, and sauces, so use keep that in mind while you season) while they sauté. Once tender (10-15 minutes), add ground venison/turkey and brown  (10-15 minutes) about half way through, seasoning again.  Then add crushed tomatoes, diced tomatoes, tomato paste and barbeque sauce, season again and bring to boil. After it comes to a boil, let chili simmer. The longer, the better. I usually let it cook all afternoon, at least 4 hours.

VENISON STEW

1	Onion, cut in large chunks Potatoes, cut in chunks (I usually buy the small gourmet ones that come bagged in the grocery store and throw that in) ½ bag of baby carrots Butter (3-4 Tbsp) and Flour (2-3 spoonfuls)
2  lbs	Venison, cut in cubes (I put one package of cubed meat in there) 1 large container of beef broth
1 tsp	Salt
¼ tsp	Black pepper

Directions:

Venison can taste gamey to some people, so I like to marinate the meat in a mixture of beef broth, Worcestershire sauce and garlic powder for a day before I throw it in the stew. This is a great crockpot recipe – if you don’t have a crock pot, just make sure you use a good thick sauce pot, like a dutch oven, and keep the heat very low while this cooks all day.

I have a crockpot/fryer, so I heat up the butter, throw the meat in to brown a little and add the flour so the flour cooks through and the meat browns. Then I toss in everything else, cover it and let it all simmer for 4-6 hours.

The Know-It-All

I know, it's annoying. That person in your life who is always telling you "if you'd only listened to me then this wouldn't have happened or you wouldn't have had to do that." Yeah. I'm that person. But I have a whole catalogue of events, anecdotes, and, let's face it, life experience, to back me up. So take heed.

The Parental Instinct
I was a child once too and did many stupid things. I got hurt. A lot. No broken bones, thankfully, but plenty of skinned knees, busted lips and bruises. So when I tell our children "don't do that or you're going to get hurt," I'm really just trying to be helpful.

Do they listen? No.

Do they get hurt? Often.

The Wifely Instinct
I'm sorry, but women are just smarter. We read the directions and guess what? We assemble the doodabber or gloogumper with no problem. Men? Well, men refuse to read directions and a string of obscenities can be heard through out the neighborhood. And when I tell you to pick up the socks that you have strewn carelessly on the (hardwood) floor? It's to avoid the inevitable accident that will occur when our buoyant three-year-old sails into the room, steps on said sock and goes careening into a piece of furniture. (For more on that topic, See: The Parental Instinct.)

The Basic Instinct
(Betcha didn't see that coming.)
I have no real sex advice to give, except to tell all of these young girls and women in their 20s to respect themselves and wait for love. It's too late for Sharon Stone, but it's not too late for you.

The Googler
I have always had a penchant for Googling, but my husband actually calls me to do this for him. I try to direct him to his own smart phone that has the ability to do this, but I have to say, Googling can be somewhat of an art form. I have a certain knack for putting in the best phrasing to get the most out of Google. So, when I Google something, and I tell you what I've found? Please don't argue with me. I've GOOGLED it.

Word Nazi
Yes, I'm going to correct your grammar and spelling, whether you are speaking or texting. I'm an unemployed Public Relations/English major. It's all I have, so let me have it, ok?

The Doctor
I grew up with few friends my own age, but we often visited my grandparents or other, elderly, relatives. All those old people would talk about their medical conditions like it was a contest of who had it worse, and who could be the most vivid in the retelling. So if you tell me you've got Gout? I'm gonna tell you how to fix that, stat.  Besides, if it's a condition I'm not familiar with from my PhD with the elderly, then, you know, I Google it. And then I know.

Just Because
I used to have oversight over several employees and was brought in to almost every discussion that affected the agency I used to work for. I was consulted by many of my peers for my expertise in housing, lending, or marketing.

Now I have oversight over a three-year-old who specializes in temper tantrums and a four-year-old who thinks he's the boss.

So I'm going to tell you where it is, when it is, and how it should be done, any chance I get.

Get it?

Got it?

Good.