Schere's Gumbo

I finally succeeded at a recipe from my momma-in-law!
She is not to be confused with the late, great Nana-in-law, whom I was often partners in crime and family scandals with.

My actual mother-in-law, Schere, had passed years before I met Husband, which is why his grandmother is referred to as my Nana-in-law. She has always been remembered by her family as a bit of a wild child with a big personality and a propensity for making people laugh.

The Famous Schere

It's been a tough act to follow, as the wife often fills the shoes of the momma, but Husband says I'm doing pretty well. The hardest thing to do is cooking up nostalgia for him.
Schere, like my own mom, hardly ever wrote down how she made anything in the kitchen, as most of it is sort of instinctive, made-up, or totally modified after learning a basic recipe. My mom's meatloaf, or leftover casserole, are great examples of how they both cooked in our respective childhoods.

With that in mind, I was pretty stoked when Husband's brother sent me some loose instructions on how their mother made gumbo for special occasions. Between my own knowledge of cooking, and how this gumbo has always been described, I managed to pull it together!

Schere's Gumbo

The Shit List

• 1 whole chicken, quartered (or 3lbs light/dark chicken you prefer)
• 1 Hillshire Farms Beef Smoked Sausage, sliced
• 1.5 lbs shrimp, shelled and de-veined
• 1 pint oysters, with juices
• 1.5 cups flour
• 1 cup vegetable oil (butter will work too)
• 1 lb fresh or frozen okra, sliced into rounds
• 2 green bell peppers, chopped
• 2 yellow onions, chopped
• 5 celery stalks, chopped
• 2 bunches of green onions, separate greens and whites, chopped
• 6 garlic cloves, minced
• 4 bay leaves
• 4 tbspn chopped parsley
• 1 tsp thyme leaves
• 4 tbspn Tony Chachere's (cajun seasoning)

How to Handle That Shit

• I highly, highly recommend you prepare all of your vegetables the day before you start cooking, unless you want to spend close to 5 hours standing in your kitchen. This does not bode well for people like Husband and I, who hurt after sitting too long, much less standing.

1. Brown chicken and sausage in stock pot, cover in 12 cups water, and boil into a stock. Usually takes about 20 minutes.
2. Remove meat and put aside. 
3. Add in shrimp shells and boil into stock for 15 minutes. Strain out shells and put stock aside.
4. Heat oil in a large stock pot and add flour to make a dark roux. By dark, I mean practically burnt. You want your smoke alarm to be somewhat concerned.
5. Add bell peppers, yellow onion, celery, and white part of green onions to the roux, and cook until softened. This will take a good 10 minutes, easily.
6. Add in garlic and cook another 2 minutes.
7. Add in the meat stock, and any additional water needed to reach desired "soupy" consistency, along with bay leaves, parsley, thyme, and Tony Chachere's.
8. Raise to a boil, add in chicken and sausage, reduce to simmer for 30 minutes.
9. Add in shrimp and okra to simmer an additional 15 minutes.
10. Add oysters, in their liquid, and onion greens for another 10 minutes until oysters curl.
11. Serve with Louisiana Hot Sauce to taste, and rice or french bread.

Chicken Tortilla Soup

Initially found on Pinterest, here, direct link to the recipe here.

I tweaked a few minor things in order to get the delicious result you see photographed above, but you can basically follow her recipe and get super tasty goodness. I have here, my slightly altered recipe:

The Shit List

• 1 lb Chicken
• 1 15 oz. Canned Corn
• 1 15 oz. Original Rotel
• 1 15 oz. Canned Black Beans, drained
• 6 cups Chicken Stock
• 1/2 tsp Cumin 
• 1/2 cup Chopped Onion
• 2 tsp Minced Garlic
• 1/4 tsp Chili Powder
• 3/4 tsp Black Pepper

How to Handle That Shit

1. Cook and shred (or cube) chicken. I find the shredded texture not only easier to eat, but a lot more tasty, as it absorbs the seasonings better.
2. Dump chicken and the rest of the ingredients into a crock pot, cooking on low for at least 8 hours (hello, employed people!) or on high for 4 hours.
3. Scoop some deliciousness into a bowl, and top with Monterey Jack Cheese, Tortilla Strips/Chips, and if you're not allergic like me, cubed Avocado.
4. Eat it. Eat it all.

Things Change

We don't want to have children.

There's nothing quite like that small concern that comes with realizing you're late. For those of us lucky enough to have been gifted with, or like myself, treated to have wonderfully regular menstrual cycles, being only 48 hours late is enough to make you pee on a stick and cross your fingers. Nothing conclusive came from my first test, which I chalked up to either being not pregnant, or not pregnant enough.

It led to some hefty conversations between me and Husband, since we not only planned not to have kids, but took extra steps to ensure we never would. What if I had a viable pregnancy? Would we be okay adopting out? Could we afford to raise a child well? How would we deal with that kind of life change?
Times was hard.
Seven days later, I thought I was psyching myself out. No signs of uterine shed, but plenty of unusual abdominal pains. Again, I'm one of those gifted types that can feel when period things are happening, which has spared many a pair of cute panties. This pain was new, and it was unsettling.

I have an IUD, which I very much love because it works wonderfully for me. Since I'm a bit of a nerd, as well as sensibly concerned with being on top of my health, I keep myself informed on side effects that can come with whatever treatments I receive. With IUDs, there's a small risk that should it not prevent pregnancy, can cause ectopic implantation. The skinny on ectopic pregnancy is that the embryo sets itself somewhere not the uterus, which is bad for baby and bad for mom too. Since it's not in the uterus, the body does not respond normally to the pregnancy, usually not producing HCG, which is what standard urine tests look for. It's commonly fatal for the fetus, and is dangerous for the mother, so naturally I was concerned.

Being a sensible woman, I made an appointment with my doctor to check things out. I'm not sure I've ever met someone so indifferent to concerns about a fetus or even myself. I'm kind of angry just thinking about it. She ran a urine test, which of course came back negative, and was satisfied with that. I explained to her my pains, and my understanding that with an IUD I could be having an ectopic pregnancy and would like at minimum a blood test or xray.
She again blew me off, said it was nothing, but would "humor" me by ordering an ultrasound, which would take about a month to get in.
Thanks for nothing, doc.

I was in a good amount of pain and didn't trust myself to drive, so in both pain and frustration, I asked my sister to drive me to Planned Parenthood. I figured they would be able to help, or at least point me to someone who could. Amid some angry glares from the usual PP detractors (another story for another day), I made my way to the clinic and was greeted by an incredibly friendly young woman.
She asked what brought me in that day, and I told her I thought I might be pregnant. She offered congratulations, which was sweet, but then I added I had an IUD. She immediately apologized, acknowledging my pain and potential fear, which was surprisingly kind. I didn't have to ask before she handed over ultrasound providers, payment assistance, and means of transportation. She offered to help me go through the information, as well as fill out the forms to get the care I needed. She asked me if I was in a stable, safe relationship, and if I had support or needed counseling.
I nearly cried at the polar opposite treatment I was receiving, for free, from a complete stranger, after having been so coldly handled by my own doctor. I finally felt taken care of.

My sister suggested we go home, since the places I needed to go were already closed for the weekend and Husband should be with me anyway. Mid-drive, she pulled over and unlocked the doors, telling me to get out. I was confused of course, and asked her what the hell she was thinking.
"You look like you're going to be sick, and vomiting in Mom's brand new car is best avoided," she told me, turning pale herself since she's a sympathy puker.
I didn't get out, but nearly blacked out from a sudden pain. It was like an ice pick, and I doubled over. My poor sister panicked again, "Are you gonna puke? Should I stop? Do I turn around for the hospital?"
Like an idiot, I said I was fine, it didn't hurt that bad, and let's get home so I can hot pack my stomach. I really just thought it was cramps from what I was increasingly sure was a doomed pregnancy.

We got home, vomit free, and I filled Husband in on our adventure. He asked if we should get emergency care, which I brushed off again.
"If I'm pregnant now, I'll be pregnant Monday morning when radiology opens again. I highly doubt a three week sized fetus is going to kill me before then."
Sunday afternoon, I hadn't gotten out of bed all day for the pain. I was sure I was miscarrying, waiting for the onslaught of bleeding sure to follow. Husband said he wasn't waiting to find me bloodied and unconscious, and insisted we get to emergency care. One eternal, dramatic drive later, we were at the hospital, with me still doggedly insisting this was a waste of time. I think by then I wasn't really coherent much, so a lot of nonsensical things got said.

Since it's the ER, abdominal pain is taken pretty seriously. I got admitted pretty fast, and set up for an ultrasound and pelvic exam. I was also treated with a bucket of pain meds and antiemetics, which made me a loopy, comedic sight to see.
Four hours later, and the ER doc tells me I have an urinary infection and inflammation in my ovary where it's pretty clear a cyst burst, and that it had most likely blocked ovulation that month. She had no idea how I had functioned the last few days, or why I was conscious then, so I got a high five for that.

I was released from care with antibiotics and prednisone, mostly since Husband was driving, and we exhaustedly made our way home. We had overcome another hurdle that could have changed our lives, and we managed to get out together and okay.

El Ninito

There's water falling from the sky!!
Us desert folk are never really equipped to handle precipitation, which is why any time there's even a hint of weather we get this:

Now this all happened nearly two months ago, before the genuinely tragic damage hit the Antelope Valley this week.
These "flash floods" were more like a premature ejaculation compared to now. I've been keeping my yard clean and plain dirt, so unless you take a good look, you wouldn't even know half my side yard washed through the front.

And if you didn't know how minor the whole half inch of water was, you'd think Hurricane Katrina had hit with Delmira's reaction! She hates, hates, hates thunderstorms.

I have a scared

You can only imagine the degree of terror when the most recent one hit, with our poor Quartz Hill caught in a mudslide. Luckily for us, our area only saw some deep pooling with no flooding yet.
Again, Delmira doesn't care how bad it isn't, and spent this week pretty much planted in or under my bed.

To my benefit, I've had a new, actually functional slider put into my room, so letting her in has gotten a lot simpler.

The guys that came to install must have had Jesus or God or someone on their side, as the storms managed to clear for the few hours they needed to be there.

This is only the prelude to what I expect to be an epic winter, and if this is any indication, it's gonna yield quite a myriad of great stories.

July 4th

BOOM

Dad's Day

It was just a few of us daughters over for the evening, fulfilling our father's lifelong dream of being surrounded by adoring, beautiful women.

The babies got him a new ax, to aide his lumberjacking in the backyard.

I'm not entirely sure the gift was just for him. Just look at that contemplative glow!

I invested in a new set of drill bits and screw heads after our adventure with my new front door nearly killed all of the ones he had.

We had a nice evening, as is a given if Dad's involved. He's a pretty cool guy, and clearly is where I get my awesome personality from.

Surprising Thing

My Aunt Ruthie is kind of the best person you'll ever meet. Ever. Like seriously, call the Vatican and recommend this woman for sainthood.

She likes German Shepards

She made MyCoz, and her beautiful sister, Lexi

I really shouldn't call her #2, since as far as love and support she's my #1 fan. If anyone has mastered the line between mom and best friend as an aunt, it's Ruthie. She was my confidant, a shoulder to cry on, and often the one keeping me in line. She just gets me.
When I was growing up my mom was one of Ruth's best friends, so naturally MyCoz and I became besties, and reaped the benefits of having two moms to play off of.

I have many, many, many epic stories with Aunt Ruth, which I will surely get to in the future. Today's story is about her birthday! A group of us got together and hid in her house until she got home from finals for her CNA (yeah, she's badass) and surprised her with cake, balloons, and all the love she deserves.

Afterward, since I was already so close, I scooted on over to MyCoz and her man's apartment.
Since making her blanket, she hasn't seen much of it between Moses and Khaleesi always stealing it. So, I made them each their own as well.

Blue, his favorite color

Sam always beta-tests my work

She looks serious, but she likes it