Wake Me Up When Winter's Over!

Italian Meatloaf

Here is the recipe from "Our Italian Family Tradition" Cookbook. I hope you find it as yummy as I did.

Italian Meatloaf

2 lbs. hamburger

1/2 lb. sausage (I used pork, not Italian)

2 cloves of garlic, minced

1 whole medium onion, chopped

1 1/2 c. oatmeal (quick oats)

2 eggs

1/2 tsp. basil leaves or 1 tsp fresh basil, chopped

1 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. pepper

1/2 c. water

mozzarella cheese

ketchup

Mix all ingredients and put in a loaf pan. Spread ketchup over top and sprinkle with mozzarella cheese. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes or until meat tests done.

(I waited until the meat loaf was almost done before I added the cheese.) For the rest of my meal I had salad, cauliflower w/cheese, and homemade crescent rolls. Enjoy!!

Not Just Meatloaf

Don't ask me why I have such weird hangups. I have several of them. Can't explain them, I just know I have them. Maybe we all do, but just so you understand I'll describe a few:
~Cats, I only like my own. There's something weird almost personal when a strange cat sashays around my legs.
~Round earrings. I'm an eighties baby, they were all the rage when I was in high school. In fact I wear very large hoops nearly everyday. But I hate to see round earrings lying flat on earlobes or hanging just underneath. KOMU has a cute little a.m. broadcaster who is attempting to bring back those ugly 80s earrings. She looks ridiculous. Weird, I know.
~People who park in front of the door at any C-store. It is NOT a parking space, nor is the area 10ft in front or behind you when you park there. This is wear my hubby likes to park when he wants to fetch himself a paper or lottery ticket. I've thought seriously about making myself a sign to hide under my seat. In the worst of parking times, I can pull it out and show people: "I TOLD HIM NOT TO PARK HERE!" Again, weird, I know.
~Finally the reason why I'm writing this post: compressed meat. If it's not a hamburger, I do NOT want my meat smashed together. The texture of meat being held together with anything other than itself almost makes me a little nauseous.

No balls in my spaghetti. No croquettes for my salmon. Got the idea? I've just explained all of this...then...I must digress...

There is a compressed meat that must be served in Heaven. Then again, maybe not. It's Italian Meatloaf. It just may be sinful. Very, very sinful.

During the summer of my freshman year of high school I dated a young, fine looking Italian boy who was visiting relatives for the summer. He stayed until it was time to return to school in Kansas City. Fortunately for me he invited me to his big Italian family dinner on Sunday. I sincerely looked forward to the wonderful meal I knew would be served that day. The minute I got out of the truck I could see the hustle and bustle of everyone moving about. They were such an energetic, loud, and fun bunch. All of this was centered around the afternoon meal. I asked Mr. A what was being served. He sweetly replied, "meatloaf". If any of you know me, you know I wear my heart on my sleeve. There is no doubt in my mind my face dropped and my pupils became fixated into laser beams. "MEATLOAF?" was all I could think. Why in the heck would this huge Italian family fix freakin meatloaf? I just knew I would starve until I got home that evening.

We visited with friends and family until it was time to eat. The dreaded meal. I watched as the helping of meatloaf was placed on my sad little plate. My stomach was rolling. I knew my tongue would feel something of unknown origin when that piece of meat hit my taste buds. After avoiding the dreaded lump of protein for quite some time, I had to...one of his aunts was asking me if I liked it. I couldn't be an insult because this boy had too big of a gorgeous smile for me to lose out to meatloaf.

I so bad wanted to pinch my nose, close my eyes and swallow. But I was paranoid that all eyes were on me. I knew it would be bad. I KNEW it would be bad. My fork would cut a piece in half. Then in half again. Then in half again. Finally...it was time...I had to make the approach from the sad little plate to my tongue. My stomach was ready to explode or implode, I was not sure at this point. My taste buds were trembling in terror. I could feel their goose bumps. But I did it. That one teeny, tiny little taste grabbed the attention of every single taste bud in my mouth. The taste bud angels rejoiced...they sang for more. This Italian dinner was worth it after all.

That was 1984. It was the only time I had a tummy friendly meatloaf until this past Sunday. One of Mr. A's aunts created a cookbook a few years ago. I received it for Christmas and found that yummy meatloaf recipe. Mom couldn't believe I wanted to make her and hubby a meatloaf for supper. My family really liked it and it will be added to my favorite recipe collection for keeps!!

If there is any interest I may post this recipe later this weekend.

Run Annie Run

Run Annie Run! She's running up the slope of our driveway. Fortunately we have a really sweet neighbor behind us (who does NOT have a dog that barks all night) blades our driveway with his little John Deere mower. However, due to all the snow that has accumulated recently, he can no longer push the snow any further out. After last night's blowing conditions, our driveway has drifted to a very narrow lane. I was able to get out about an hour ago to return movies and pick up much needed contact lens'. Annie and Kia got to go outside for a bit of fresh, cold air and to play and potty. After shoveling snow around my vehicle, I realized why people with heart conditions are warned NOT to do that. Good grief I really have got to get in shape before I start walking outside again.

I love this picture of Annie. Her ears rarely, if ever, stand up. Unless you offer her an unexpected treat. They tend to lay flat like a propeller. Stay warm everyone. It's suppose to be extremely cold temps all week in my neck of the woods!! For those of you living on sandy beaches, are you sure we aren't related???

A Retirement Realized

She finally did it! After just over 40 years of working for the same company, mom retired on January 29th. She didn't want any parties, no Pomp and Circumstance nothing. Except maybe a dinner at the Pear Tree sometime in the near future, there was no big celebration. In fact her exact words were, "they didn't know when I started, they don't need to know when I'm leaving." I begged to differ, but lost. Not very many people can say they've worked at the same place for over 40 years.

Mom started working at Con Agra after I was born in 1969. I remember when she worked evenings and was thrilled when she finally got to work days. She was promoted as a supervisor taking on the responsibility of products and employees. If her job was anything similar to mine, the product was the easiest! The hardest thing, I think, would be having to get up at 2:30am every morning. The last several years she work until mid afternoon and sometimes 6-7 days a week. So if anyone deserves any rest and peace, it's mom.

Mom has earned her way to a new found freedom. May she have lots of rest, adventure and enjoyment on her future ahead! Congratulations, I love you!