It's a S.A.D., S.A.D month

Ahhhhhh, February. The month of love. Department stores resemble the Midwest after a tornado has ripped it's way through. If that tornado is pink and red. And covered in hearts.

Bleh. I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. Too much? Sorry. It's my blog and I'll vomit if I want to, vomit if I want to.

It's t-minus 14 days until Single-Awareness Day. This year, S.A.D. falls on a Monday. Seriously? Is this a joke? That means the cherubs will come to school higher than kites, boiling over with excitement, and then leave school higher than kites. Kites on a sugar high. And they won't have the weekend to sleep it off. Clearly, I will need to regulate their suger intake. Or, be incredibly proactive and schedule to have a coffee brought in every 3 hours. Hmmmm....that might be easier. SAHMs who are friends of mine, be checking your email soon as I will be sending a mass email in the form of a "Deliver Miss K from Chaos by Delivering Her a Coffee" sign-up sheet. Chaos and Caffeine. They go hand in hand, really. Thank you kindly.

During the Month that is S.A.D., I'm going jump on the blogosphere bandwagon and be participating in Miss Alissa's 28 days of love. It's similar to a December Daily; everyday I'll be given a prompt to write about something that I love. Given my overwhelming sense of love and affection for the Month that is S.A.D., I'm fairly confident that I'll be tired of the daily prompts of love by early next week. So enjoy it while it lasts, people.

Let's get this show on the road, shall we?

Today I love....something old.

Thank you, Miss Alissa, for starting with an easy one. Had your prompt been, "Today I love my spouse" I would have quit. Yep. I'd be a quitter. And I would be very OK with that.

Anyway, I love this thing right here:


THAT, my dear readers, is one of my late grandmother's cookbooks. It's not just any OLD cookbook, however. THAT cookbook is a Monica Society Cookbook from Orange City Christian School. THAT cookbook is the cream of the crop. The object of every great Midwest cook's affection. If you don't have a Monica Society cookbook, you have my sympathy. My momma has one, both of my grandmas had one, my aunties all have one, you get the picture. A few years ago, when my aunts and uncles went through Grandpa and Grandma's house, equally dividing the goods among the siblings and their offspring, my beloved mother snagged Grandma's coveted Monica Society Cookbook from the vast array of cookbooks that my grandmother had. That woman and her cookbooks. That's another story for another post. My point is, I have a Monica Society Cookbook. And it's better than anything I could ever buy. It's filled with my grandmother's handwriting and sticky vanilla covered fingerprints. And don't get me started on the wornness of the banana bread page. That woman and her banana bread. Again, another story for another post.





And now I leave you with this:

A picture of something that I do NOT love.

Location: Cairo, Egypt.

I returned home from the ski retreat this weekend to discover mass hysteria in the land of the pyramids. As thousands of Americans are trying to leave the country, this American (me), will be flying INTO Cairo in only two short months. Gulp. Nervous pee feeling has now doubled in size. And there is no room in my suitcase for extra pants.