These Are My Dreams - Podcast Episode #2

Today I really wanted to share with you EXACTLY how it took me three very long years to gain one hundred subscribers on my YouTube Channel. It was an extremely emotional and challenging three years, and I’m sharing with you some very personal and private moments of my life and the challenges I’ve faced during the process of creating content on YouTube. I explain how I used to be an extremely shy and quiet person. And I explain to you how being a YouTuber made me realize some very valuable life lessons and things about myself that, at age 42 years old, I am only now realizing about myself. By me sharing my story and journey with you, I hope it helps motivate you to also share your very own story with the world. One video at a time! You’ve got this dudes!

Please let me know if you enjoyed this video and if my story can relate to you in any way? I’m so curious if by me sharing these sensitive life moments with you can help you in something challenging you are going through right now? You are NOT alone. Don’t ever give up. Chat with me in the comments section!

Filmed Tuesday, August 1, 2023 in Jacksonville Beach, Florida.

#contentcreator #youtubejourney #shetlandsheepdog #florida

​

~Women In World War II - Film Review~

I had no idea what to expect when I popped this DVD into my little, black, spinning machine. But, I was delightfully surprised by what I had discovered within.

I’m a huge fan of old, classic films - especially from the 1940’s and into the 1950’s. Those years are, without a doubt, my favorite era of filmography. And having knowledge of, and already having viewed, countless movies from that time period, I was shocked that I had never run across this one.

I believe this film was recommended to me by Big Tech. You know - the guys who know more about you than you do about yourself.

One of the big sites told me I should check this out. And, either they really do know me better than I do, or a little birdie told them how completely and utterly patriotic I really am. A quick glimpse of the movie poster, imagery, and really, the title alone, and I immediately clicked. A simple skim of the plot, and I went straight over to the Jacksonville Public Library mobile app and requested to rent.

What a joy! 

And what sorrow…

For anyone who is even a remote fan of World War II films, this one is a must-see. The title says it all, and the title does do it justice.

Based upon a true story, So Proudly We Hail tackles a plot involving a ‘small’ and somewhat forgotten and overlooked bullet point of WWII subject matter - WOMEN.

The Women of War… The Women of World Wars... The Women who also risked it all - for freedom.

While, of course, men did most of the fighting, and dying in WWII, women were also heavily involved, at home, and abroad. And contrary to popular belief, women were allowed on the front lines. It just wasn’t discussed, acknowledged, and brought to our attention as it should have been. 

Yes - It should have been - so that we could honor the might and bravery and history of American women - in the world's biggest and mightiest war.

No - it wasn’t just Rosie the Riveter back on the homefront, representing the women of American wartime, in bomber plants and machine shops across the U.S. for the Defense industry. 

While we remember and know Rosie pretty well - we cannot overlook Nancy the Nurse. 

She was nursing on the warfront, and she tackled the death and destruction straight in evil’s path. 

So, while Rosie riveted away on airplanes and war ships and other munitions, Nancy was also seaming and mending pieces together, with stitches and staples of a different sort, and working on a different sort of product. 

Rosie handled the steel - and Nancy handled the blood and guts. 

But they all gave it their all... and that’s all that really mattered at the time.

Starring Claudette Colbert and Paulette Goddard, two of the silver screen’s most extraordinary stars at the time, So Proudly We Hail, accurately, and with great detail, captures the role females in the Army had during some of the war's most challenging times.

And before going any further with this review, I want to highlight an aspect of the film which I deem one of the most important - its context - Time.

So Proudly We Hail was released in 1943 - during the height and depth of WWII. The context is imperative. This film was produced during the war - and not AFTER the war.

This context is of extreme importance, and is what makes this film quite different from WWII films released AFTER WWII was complete. When the war was literally over, extinguished, not of this Earth any longer.

Context is something that - we - society today - have all but forgotten. And context is essential to our understanding of the time period.

And why context is so crucial should be so very obvious, but increasingly isn’t. The war was RAGING while this film was viewed in theaters all over the United States. The war was being fought, the people were sacrificing, people were dying, and the people were afraid of their unknown futures. 

American’s had no idea who was going to win the war while watching this film upon its release. Yet, American’s still sacrificed, and they still gave up so very much. All for a belief... a simple, true and noble belief - in hope. 

Hope.

For a better future. 

For a free world. 

For an end to slavery and tyranny, concentration camps, hate, imperialism - and against the destruction of faith - and for value of personal freedom.

So, while I do love watching these old classic films in the context of the world of today - seemingly and literally a million miles away from the values and context of a world that was alive less than a hundred years ago. I also equally enjoyed viewing So Proudly We Hail with the remembrance of the fact that all of this was made and written and said and sweated over while we were still fighting against the Third Reich and the Imperial Japanese. 

No one at the time knew how this horrific world war would end, especially in 1942 and 1943. Only really in 1944 could some see a light at the end of the tunnel. Again, calling all of context into play here. 

It all could have gone either way at that point in 1943. The world could have gone the way of the thousand year reign of a fascist dictator, or it could, and did, go in the direction of freedom. And that fact of their lack of knowledge of the future is what I enjoy the very most when I view these films of that time period. 

Additionally, and of quite importance regarding the axis power of Japan during the time, no one knew we would someday become allies, and what I have always viewed as a special kinship and friendship between the United States and Japan - after the war. 

I believe with all my heart that our relationship with Japan is of solid hope for the world to see - that enemies can become friends. That horrific atrocities on both sides can truly be forgiven. And pave the way toward a better future - for both nations, and others. And this is worth noting due to the scenes in the film where hatred toward the Japanese is discussed from the American point of view at the time. 

A time - after - Pearl Harbor had been bombed. 

A time - before - Hiroshima and Nagasaki had been bombed.

Of particular note is a scene where Veronica Lake’s character says she is going to ‘kill some Japs.’ She then has a realization - what good would that do? That is not her role. She is sent to the front lines as a nurse - to heal any and all - at a hospital, in the jungle. She does fulfill her role and duty, and does not kill her enemy instead at the time. 

Ultimately, however, it is her character that ends up ironically sacrificing herself to save her fellow female soldiers from their enemy at the time - the Japanese. And in her final act, she ends up killing herself - to kill the enemy - to save her American comrades. This scene, showing that no matter how her personal beliefs evolved over the course of their wartime struggles, people still made the ultimate sacrifice. And some still were forced to kill, even if they truly did not want to, in the course of war and evil.

Throughout the entirety of this wonderful piece of film, we are treated to the display of American Army Nurses on patrol, on shift, and their struggles off shift as well. Love, duty, honor, and sacrifice abound the entire film. This movie sheds light on the role of nurses in war, and what tools they had - or did not have - to work with while caring for their patients. 

Seemingly forgotten in the jungles, these brave nurses triaged patients under a canopy of palm trees. Their operating rooms were made of tin roofs and cloth sheets for walls. They ran out of what we call today - PPE - personal protective equipment. And they performed surgery without masks. Simply because they just didn’t have any around to use. 

Gloves were in extremely short supply. And where today’s hospitals have entire sterile processing programs for surgical instruments, this film portrays how nurses had to wash and sanitize tools in basic garbage bins and barrels - in a futile struggle to remain germ-free for each and every, and endless, patient. 

Medicine running out, and at times completely out of supply, patients had to be treated without pain killers, and no anesthesia. A basic - grit your teeth and bear it - sort of agony, for stitching and mending. 

And post op - forget any special flower bouquets and treats and books and magazines to keep occupied. Patients by the hundreds and thousands, lay on makeshift stretchers, to suffer through their terrible recoveries in the hot, humid, and wet open air weather of the so-called hospital. All these patients - laying in that shared, open air, watching as our heroic nurses continued treatment on countless other patients seemingly all around them.

And in case one was starting to forget - the film does a solid job of not ever letting us forget that all their hospital work was under constant threat of destruction and actually bombing. Army staff and patients were constantly fleeing enemy soldiers, snipers, airplane attacks from the sky above, and there were constant forced evacuations onto safer land - that was, conspicuously, never found. 

As the situation seemed to get worse, for allies in the vicinity, sadly, the war did eventually take a very bad turn for the allies. Bataan, and the Battle of the Philippines, being what many consider one of the American militaries worst failures in our history. In that, the United States, amidst the U.S. and Filipono forces’ inability to hold the line, they ultimately fell - to the Japanese. As the overwhelming and brutal forces of their imperial enemy in this area were too much for both nations to endure. And sadly, after the fall, there was further atrocity - when the Bataan Death March was played out on enemy territory. 

Roughly 80,000 American and Filipino troops were contained as prisoners of war, and horrific treatment of these prisoners led to countless further wartime deaths. Post War, Japanese commanders were tried and convicted of war crimes for their knowledge and failure of oversight of subordinates and for allowing these war crimes to take place on their watch.

So, knowing all this, many tears were shed while watching this film. As pain, and suffering, and sacrifice, and hate, and love, were all on full display. 

And yes, there was Love.

There was Love - that surrounded the entire film. Love, that gave many hope, I might think, at the time. Love was still happening. Love of all kinds. And this film - in the greatest of great horrors of war time - showed that people were not afraid to actually live while they were alive. Something - as I have said many times - many today have now conclusively forgotten. 

We are an afraid people right now. And we are scared to live while we are alive. These people were not. And I am not afraid to live either. The love and life portrayed in this film is indeed something we all can take lessons from today. 

During struggle and and sacrifice and the horrors of war, one still must live. 

After all, when else is there to live, than when you are alive? 

Amidst bombs exploding, one must still live as they watch the bombs fall. In the middle of a raging fire, one must search for water and various types of flame retardants. Surrounded by hate, one must spread good will. And with smoke attempting suffocation, one must still breathe. Life. 

If we are not living - we are dying.

If we are not moving - we are receding.

If we are not learning - we are submitting.

If we are not struggling - we are not human.

If we are not risking it all - we are doomed to never know what could truly become.

If we do not know sacrifice - we do not know God’s ultimate glory for us.

If we are not loving - we are doubting God’s creation.

And,

If we do not have Faith - what is our future? 

Faith - this brings me to my favorite scene of the entire film.

Walter Abel, playing the role of Army Chaplain, gives a superb performance, and is my favorite actor in the film. He remains, to this day, one of my favorite character actors of the time. His on-screen presence is a joy to me, and a light to my heart. If I had been alive during his lifetime, I would have strived to have met him in real life. And I know I would have written letters to him, thanking him for the joy his characters brought to my heart.

The scene - was of course - Christmas. My favorite holiday. My favorite time of year. Our beloved characters were all onboard ship, and the Chaplain said a prayer. The script is poetic. And many ears today could benefit from hearing his special words. It’s as if God spoke onboard the mighty vessel. And God was there - glowing amidst the light of their special little makeshift Christmas tree. 

And this remains my favorite scene - because…

What is war - without Christmas? 

“You must forgive me for being sentimental...” Abel states, as personnel gathered around the silly, impromptu Christmas tree. 

And he continues: “We’re a sentimental people…” 

“Our enemies deride us for it…”

But - “It’s what makes us stronger.”

He asks the people standing around him to have Faith. To continue forward. Even as that very night the ship steered straight into the hellfire of the coming battle. And even as he knows - and they know - what is waiting for them when they reach shore.

But still - they prayed.

And they still - had Faith.~

​

I remember watching Lucy walk over to Ethel’s apartment to borrow a cup of sugar. And visa versa.

I remember when DJ Tanner talked on the phone with Kimmy Gibbler.

I remember playing baseball in the street.

I remember when neighbors actually spoke to one another.

I remember when a new family moved into the neighborhood, the locals would trek across their lawns, ring the doorbell, introduce themselves, welcome the newest residents, and drop off some baked goodies - whether it be a loaf of bread, or a plate of cookies. And it actually didn’t matter what form of food the calories were melded into, what mattered was the act of the offering.

And that was it.

They were now neighbors.

And - They were friends.

It didn’t matter who was a republican and who was a democrat.

And, all the politics in the world... wouldn’t stop a neighbor from helping a neighbor in need. 

Someone would always be there to shovel the snow for the people nearby them. 

Someone would always have time, or desire, to organize that infamous summer block party. 

And at Christmas time, there’d always be that neighbor who wanted to host a cookie exchange - or even - set up matching light-up plastic soldiers lining the entire block.

But does any of that matter anymore?

Does anybody still do any of these things?

Do you even talk with your neighbors?


I do. 

But I do know it's becoming increasingly rare. With our phones in our hands, and our heads bent down, we can’t even see our neighbors, let alone talk with them, through that black and desolate screen.

So, over time, with less one-on-one communication, we have now ended up in the situation we currently find ourselves: Anger. Hate. Violence. Incivility. And worse.

And, no I’m not blaming the smart phone for all our worldly problems.

I’m blaming us.

WE - are bigger than a phone. WE - are bigger than the internet. WE - are bigger than social media.

But - WE - have forgotten all this.

In this crazy covid world, we have forgotten that humanity is more important than how many likes we get. That communication isn’t just one directional. And that the world isn’t one size fits all. 

We have even forgotten how to speak simply with one another. And how to speak civilly with one another.

And without communication with another - we are no longer unified.

Why does a couple, or a union, divorce? Separate, or break up? Why does a relationship end?

Is it because they no longer love one another? They can no longer agree? They’re not on the same page? They have different aspirations and life goals? They feel anger and hostility toward each other? They cannot even communicate with each other any longer? They are disgusted with one another and cannot stand the sight of the other? Maybe, maybe all of the above… but maybe it’s the simple fact that they no longer want to share a life together. After all, love cannot be forced. 

So, what happens when we, as a nation, no longer agree with another?

What happens when we no longer love our neighbors?

When we cannot agree on the definition of words?

We are basically speaking different languages at that point, right?

Speaking different languages is not always a problem. There are people who speak different languages all over the world, and they all don’t disagree with and hate one another.

It’s the actions one takes that lead to agreement or disagreement. Civility or incivility. A smile and a handshake go a long way, especially if two people standing before each other do not understand the words coming out of their mouths.

But what happens when two people who do speak the same langage stand before each other, attempting communication, and one word means something to one of them, and the same word then means something else - something completely different - to the other? The meaning being contradictory, the opposite of intention… leading to anger, or violence over perceived meaning?

Are we in the denial phase of breaking up our relationship in this country right now?

I don’t know… maybe we are well past denial at this point. Maybe we’re well engulfed in the anger phase by now?

Yes, that must be it. Because all I see is anger and hostility - on the news anyway.

In real life, it’s a completely different story. 

In real life, I see the sun rise. I see people walking on the beach… passing each other and smiling. I see myself shopping in the grocery store. And real people being real nice to one another. 

I even still see neighbors helping neighbors.

Could it be that the news and media paints a different picture of real life? Are we in denial of what’s really happening, or is what’s really happening just happening differently in different locales? Is one person’s perception of the same matter differently perceived by the other? Can we even wrap our heads around that question? Yes, maybe that’s it. What’s happening online really is happening, but some people can’t see it? And maybe some people see the same thing but completely differently.

Who knows? But, either way, I still see us falling.

My perception is I see the country falling apart. As some are still baking cookies for one another, others are beating people in the streets. Bloody and bruised. Chocolate chips and cinnamon rolls. Hatred and anger. Lemonade stands and block parties. Fires and bear spray.

And, due to all this disagreement we have with each other - Is it time we broke up with one another?

No. I argue, No.

It’s not time.

We have a long road ahead. With each other.

Side by side.

Agree and disagree.

We should not divorce.

We have reconcilable differences.

We have differences - yes. But they are NOT irreconcilable.

In any good, healthy, solid, and long term relationship - continuous work is required.

We have work to do, indeed.

But, that work must be together. Not apart. Not separate. Not under disunion. Not under false pretence. And not under a guise of fake mediation. 

We MUST work hard at living as good neighbors to one another. We MUST be civil. We MUST be noble. And true. And kind. And do it all for nothing in return. When did everything become about what you will get out of it? When did actions become simply about the reaction? And nothing more? After all, every time Lucy borrowed a cup of sugar, did she ever repay it?

When did we start not dropping off a plate of cookies when a new neighbor moved in next door? Expecting nothing in return, except maybe a smile. A handshake. An introduction. A civil conversation? 

A long, long time ago, I guess.

I’ll let you in on a little secret. These cookies... they don't have to be homemade. They don’t have to be the fancy recipe straight from your Grandma’s kitchen. They don’t have to be gourmet.

These cookies could be a plastic box of store-bought chocolate chip cookies, sealed with a bar code and priced at $3.99 for a box of twelve from the Publix down the road.

But, here’s an even bigger secret. You don’t even need to bring cookies with you. You just need to say hello.

No, you see - It’s not the cookies we have forgotten, and it’s not that we cannot afford $3.99 with endless bills to pay, with worries over rent and healthcare. It’s the act of walking next door that we have truly and utterly and sadly forgotten and completely eliminated from our lives. The act of crossing the lawn, getting shoes wet from the morning dew on the blades of cut grass. Walking up the front lawn, climbing the porch, and ringing that gosh darn effing door bell - with good intention in our heart.

Cookies not included.

Cookies not needed.

Just a Hello.

Just a Welcome to the neighborhood.

Just simplicity.

We have definitely forgotten this simple act.

And who am I to even write about it? I have forgotten it too. Well, I haven’t forgotten. I do THINK of it when someone new moves in. But that’s about it. I THINK. I don’t ACT on it. After all, who has time for all that, right?

I’m the busiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I am living my very best life. But I am NOT partaking in dropping cookies at people’s doorsteps. And maybe that’s where this whole thing has gone wrong. Right freaking there.

I am truly happy. Extremely happy. Immensely happy. I am busy. I work hard. I love my family and friends. But when’s the last time I welcomed a new neighbor? I have no freaking idea.

I must give myself some credit though where credit is due. This Christmas, my husband and I made hundreds of cookies - piles and piles of cookies. The proof is on my Youtube Channel if you don’t believe me. And I did deliver cookies to neighbors and strangers alike. But this is simply one small act.

And today, I made a double batch of cookies for work tomorrow. A coworker's last day. For a ‘party’ and for my best wishes to send this person onto their next adventure in life. 

One other small act.

These little acts. They do add up. They become our life. And our lives. If we are not interacting with one another regularly, in real life, then how can we have a civil relationship with each other in real life?

We need to say hello. We need to get to know one another. We need to have a relationship, other than by our avatars and screen names. Outside of the computers and not reflected through our phone screens. Let’s toss aside our usernames, and use our real freaking names.

So, is it time we broke up? Should we be getting a divorce?

I still say NO.

Now is not the time to call it quits. 

We have still but a fleeting moment.

Not even now, as cities burn once again. Not even now, as the world seemingly readies itself for another war. Not even now, as more death engulfs the world. Not even now, as Evil reigns. And Evil thinks it’s winning. The flames having the upper hand. With fireworks in the night sky, and the Devil staring straight at us front and center. World War III on the horizon.

We can still work this out.

And we can stave off a civil war. But, we must heed the warning signs.

We can find the reconcilable parts of our hearts. And join together once again. As one nation, undivided.

And then we can have a simple block party. Hot dogs and beers all around. Slip, sliding away. Party in the USA. Everyone’s invited - Kimmy Gibbler included. And cookies are not required.~

​

~Finding Peace Amidst A Simple Morning Walk~

Thought I’d post my usual (daily) Instagram image right here today - instead of actually on the social media platform I just mentioned. 

Because Christine’s Floridian Dreams lives in - well… Christine’s Floridian Dreams.

And while I do love Instagram, I also loathe all social media platforms.

So as I watch the world seemingly crumble - and desperately attempt to continue onward - around me... 

That world cannot crumble me - and I continue onward as well. 

And I remain optimistic. 

As my focus goes inward.

And I go for a walk.

Sipping my steamy, hot, morning coffee.

And I hug my furry baby.

The world is at peace. Or so... it seems.

While I enjoy a blustery, winter day on the coast.

So today’s post - including the image, caption, and any relative hashtags - lives here, and here alone. On my website. And in MY dreams.

I’ll see you again tomorrow Instagram. But for today - you don’t get even a slice of my time.

~ Cheers ~

#saturdayvibes
#christinepieper
#christinesfloridiandreams 

​

*Part of - Bean’s Coffee Shop Challenge - series

​Holy cow folks! Here’s my first dining review since the world went ahead and changed on us all… Today, I’ll be visiting an adorable local cafe in Jax Beach. And the only difference between this visit and any other dining review I present you with… is the fact that this is my first review since life as we all knew it imploded before all our very eyes.

Yep, we’ve all been thrown for a total loop these last many weeks. And things are only getting stranger and stranger each and every day. And hour by hour. I’m thinking to myself… Maybe we’ve finally gone through the other side of that Black Hole I constantly theorize about. Or - a wormhole?

Or maybe we’ve even been teleported to the edge of the universe.

And then jumped right over into our real and true multiverse?

Either that, or it’s just another day on this - our good buddy - Earth. Yes, Mother Nature is challenging us. And we are at war - with a virus. Either way, as I’ve said since the very beginning and even before that. I’m still going to live my life. I’m going to be alive - when I’m alive. I’m not going to be afraid. And I’m not going to cower.

Don’t get me wrong - I’m still going to be safe. I’m still going to follow the guidelines set forth by our leaders. I’m simply not going to panic…. And I will keep living my life.

Thus, what I mean is - I’m still going to go about my day. My job outside the home is still open. I work at what the government is now deeming an essential business during this crazy crisis. So I HAVE to leave the home. But I’m extremely happy to do it, and I would be doing it anyway. So in a way, I’m still technically living my “normal” life - while surrounded by much un-normalness. And I’m extremely grateful for my job. Even as things change now by the week, by the day, by the hour, and by the minute. Literally.

And during my shift, I am also grateful now more than ever for my lunch break. And each day on my break, I’ve been trying to support an area business to grab some quick food.

I have one hour to patronize a local drive-thru. I have one hour to get a drink of coffee or iced tea or some drive-thru food or take out, or drop-in-your-trunk food. And then get myself back to work, and back to sweating my behind off.

But like I said - I’m still living. So Sunday Morning in America… I start my day. And I checked my social media as I usually do. I happened to see today's muffin specials at The Ugly Cupcake & Muffinry, located @ 115 5th Street South in Jacksonville Beach, Florida.

And on that list - a list that I used to house on physical paper - sits a copper pot from Williams Sonoma.

Yes, I’ve now wanted a real copper pot for 20 years. 20 freaking years… Since the year 2000, during my sophomore year in college. Since Bean’s first Basement Bash held outside the walls of my family home growing up. Since my pasta party for the cross country team. Since that day I was in literal shock, and since the day my jaw sat on the ground as I dragged myself out of Williams Sonoma. Since the day I goodbye to the kitchen store of my dreams.

That’s how long I have wanted my own piece of copper to place inside my very own kitchen.

A beautiful, shiny, new, dreamy, and very large, copper pot. One that was sitting high up on the highest shelf in the expensive and wonderful Williams Sonoma.

Someday I will get that copper pot.

Even if I have absolutely zero space in my small kitchen to store it. I don’t care. I will sit it out on display somewhere. It can be housed on my stove top for all I care. That way I can stare at it. And dream of parties. Dream of cooking. Dream of cooking for other people. Dream of carb-loading for cross country meets. Dream of my grandparents house as a child. A small kitchen, with lots of food, lots of laughs. Italian Papa cooking the red sauce, Irish grandma talking with us kiddos. And copper hanging on the wall of the kitchen backsplash.

So that’s why a Williams Sonoma copper pot has been on Bean’s List for over twenty years now...

And yes, I ended up finding a pot for that party. And, I ended up hosting the Bash, just as planned. And yes, it was a fun night.

It was so fun that I never forgot that night. That Bash. At a place where any night and every night is a good night for a party - college. That night - was a great night.

And today, I don’t remember how well the food turned out? I don’t remember what ingredients I used in my first attempt at red sauce?

I just remember the joy of cooking. But mostly, I remember the joy of cooking for other people. And wanting for as many people as humanly possible to feast from that pot of sauce.

And that’s why red sauce is such an important meal to me, why we make it all the time, why we love it dearly, and why I wanted to share it with you today... Today - during the season of love… and during the month of Valentines… and red… and hearts. A time for simple - and shareable - red sauce.

But regardless of how many people one is cooking for. And regardless of the size of the pot. And regardless of the brand name of the pot that the meal is being cooked within. In the end, maybe cooking doesn’t have to be about any of that.

Maybe it’s about all the heart and soul that is poured, and grounded, and crushed, and chopped, and heated, and sautéed inside of that pot that really matters the very most.

While the meal may not have turned out perfect, the pot may have been old and scratched - a team of people still showed up to dine and to have some fun together. As they all sat inside of The Townhouses. Thinking about the upcoming run, and maybe even discussing the race taking place the following morning. But probably, and mostly, just chatting about that week’s episode of Dawson’s Creek. Or maybe The Princess Bride was being watched yet again.

And maybe while chatting over prime-time television, somebody was thinking of a pot… A pot made of copper, shiny and new; a large beast of a pot - taking up a lot of space inside the small kitchen of a very small apartment. And maybe while contemplating that shiny pot, the chef was dreaming of all the pasta-bilities yet to come. ~

Bean’s Red Sauce Recipe

Ingredients:

• 1 large 28 oz can crushed tomatoes/or tomato purée (I used Cento)
• 1 small 4.56 oz can/tub tomato paste (I used Cento tube)
• Roughly 1 lb. pasta (any shape/noodle of your choice)
• Roughly 1 lb. lean ground beef
• 1 large sweet onion
• 1 tsp oregano leaves
• 1 tsp garlic powder
• 1 tsp basil leaves
• 1 tsp olive oil
• Freshly ground pepper to taste
• Sea salt to taste

Directions:
Sauce-

• Pour olive oil in pot.
• Put ground beef in pot and start on a slow simmer.
• Chop onion in small chunks and place in the simmering pot with the beef.
• After meat is browned almost all the way, add in the large can of crushed tomato, then add the tomato paste.
• Next add all seasoning on top.
• Simmer long and slow, at least a half hour.

Pasta-

• Fill medium sized pot ¾ way up with water and bring to a boil.
• Add pasta to the pot.
• Boil 7-8 minutes, until al dente. Then drain.

Serve-

• Bowl of pasta with ladle of sauce poured on top.

Share and enjoy! ~

A picture is worth a thousand words.

Or, maybe, a picture is worth just a few more words than that….

Happy Valentine’s Day y'all.

TODAY

I want you to think of love.

LOVE

I post to you each Monday and each Friday.

And today is Friday.

And as I do each and every week, I had been working all week on a post for today.

Sometimes, I write to you immediately after an experience - such as right after the Key West Half Marathon, or after Sea & Sky Jax Weekend, or Beaches for Australia, or my visit to the Southern Living Idea House, or lots of other events I attend and write about immediately thereafter...

And sometimes, what you receive from me is something else entirely. It’s something that I work at for a very long time. And it’s something that builds into what you eventually receive for publication when I deem it complete and ready.

Just like paint brought to a canvas…

I paint two ways. Sometimes, I paint long, and slow, and detailed, in many layers. And the painting builds and builds and builds over time. Over time equals hours, days, weeks, or months. Many, many months. Until I have a complete story displayed on canvas and ready for eyes to view it. To read the story of the painting itself.

But, sometimes, this idea, my story - my painting - comes to me immediately, in the blink of an eye. Literally. And I paint it, immediately. Quickly. Fast. I have to get it onto the canvas or my brain will burst from the passion coming forth.

Today, your post was going to be a completely different post than the one you are receiving and now reading. I had been diligently working and preparing the post as I always do over a matter of time. And then…

THEN, Valentine’s Day EVE came. Valentine's Day very late night EVE actually arrived.

And everything about that EVE - that YESTERDAY, and that TODAY - changed.

And EVERYTHING - means EVERYTHING.

In the blink of an eye. In the click of the camera. In the sight of a photo. Everything changed. And I had a new story to tell. A new story to write. Quick! Need to get the paint onto canvas. Brain is bursting and overflowing! Right. Now.

So today’s post that you are now reading is completely different - world’s away from the one I had planned to publish today for your reading pleasure and enjoyment.

On Valentine’s Eve, after coming home and entering my very cozy, and my very small, and my very basic, and my very, very perfect little apartment, I instantly changed once again. Merely because the LOVE I feel inside me grew bigger in that one second. That one moment in time.

I came home and received love and happiness. Something I am met with every night, the only difference is last night we took a photo of it.

I came home to my own Valentine love nest, and received love in return.

Valentine love nest.

Are you picturing two cute little feathery birdies yet? If you are not imagining birdies. Go ahead right now and queue up bird imagery in your head..

I’m waiting…...

Got it?

Ok.

Will now proceed.

Imagine a nest.

A nest with cute little adorable birdies sitting inside it.

Maybe some red birdies? Or brown birdies? Maybe those birdies are sitting in an evergreen tree? They are sitting in their nest on a branch, and they are looking down on the world right now.

Or maybe that soft and cute and cuddly and quite feathery little birdie isn’t even an actual bird by the way.

Maybe the birdie is really a doggie.

Or maybe our little, figurative, and way too cute birdie is your spouse.

Your significant other.
Your aunt.
Your cousin.
Your grandma.
Your sister.
Your brother.
Your furry critter.
Your Fish.
Your father.
Your friend.
Your friend - who lives many states away. Your friend you just had to say goodbye to. Your friend who hopped on a train to ride the rails to a far off land. That friend - who just visited you at work. Your workplace being her final stop. Her final stop on a very important visit to a very important place. And she came to your work to say goodbye to you upon her departure. And as you hugged each other. As you took one last selfie. And as she walked away to go drive to the train station…. you both yelled out “I LOVE YOU!” In front of a million strangers. But neither of you cared. Because your love for each other and the experiences you’ve shared together matter more than what any stranger could ever think of you shouting out your expression of love. Of one another. And of life itself.

Maybe, you came home last night from work, and you were met with love. That love from your turtle. Your guinea pig. That love from your critter. The love from another. The love from yourself. The love from God himself.

Love in all its forms.

Maybe, the love from our dearly departed filled your home. Maybe they were watching you eat dinner. And you felt their presence inside your warm house. Knowing full well they are always with you.

Every day.

Every night.

Maybe you came home to your dog who missed you dearly while you were away for nine hours.

Maybe you sat down with your doggie and hubby and you watched Blue Bloods and ate a quick late night dinner from Wendys. A burger with no mayo at 510 calories. Maybe you watched Danny Reagan kick a few butts. And maybe you watched Jamie Reagan change the word in 42 minutes and 30 seconds flat, as he tends to do every episode. Maybe you watched Danny Reagan eat his Sunday dinner while you ate your Thursday night dinner.

Maybe Danny Reagan had to say goodbye to his eldest son, who was leaving to go off to college in Season 9.

Maybe the Reagan family opened their home to the newest member of the family.

Maybe while the Reagan’s had to say goodbye to Jack, they said hello to Eddie. And Eddie now eats dinner with the Reagan’s each Sunday. An empty seat is filled by another. Love all around. Love in the air.

So, getting back to our love nest. And the cute birdies sitting in the tree in their own nest.

Because that’s what happened to me last night. I went home. And I was met by my own birdies in my own nest.

I came home, after a long and wonderful and blessed day, and I was met with the birdies who share that nest with me.

My birdie was brown!

It was a SHE!

Oh wait… and a HE!

My birdies in my very own nest were my very own brown doggie. And my husband.

I came home to them both - and it was Valentine's EVE.

I had a great, and a long, and a fabulous day yesterday. As I do each and every day. I told you each day is the best day of my life, right?

I worked all day. Then. My husband picked me up. He had a load of groceries in the back seat, by the way.

And we went home.

And at this home, it had been a very long day for a little doggie to be parted from her Mama as usual.

Upon walking in the door, my precious little doggie greeted me as she always does.

But one thing was different about that greeting last night. That one thing is the reason you are now reading this story instead of another one.

I sat down on the kitchen floor.

To receive the love from my dog straight on. And at her height level.

And we cuddled as usual.

But it was just so very cute.

And I became so very curious?........

So,

I asked my husband to take a photo of my doggie.

My doggie was giving me a big hug. And I always wonder. How does my little birdie in her nest look out at the world beyond me when she is hugging me? I can’t see behind me, of course. I want to know what all that love she gives me looks like from behind?

And my husband was standing in our kitchen with me and our little birdie angel. He was unloading the groceries he had brought home. Loading them onto the counter top, behind Me…. And I said to my husband… What does our little doggie angel look like when she hugs me? Here - take a photo for me would you please?

I reached into my stuffed pockets. From my heavy and thick and full and very dirty work pants.

I grabbed my iPhone out of the big pocket. And handed my phone to my hubby to take a photo.

And he did just that.

And that photo is why you are receiving this post today instead of something that’s been since erased.

Happy Valentine’s Day WORLD.

Today, I want you to love yourself. I want you to love others. I want you to love your Valentine. Love those who live in your love nest with you. Better yet, love those who live in other love nests that surround yours - all the nests sitting in the very same tree, but just sitting and resting upon different branches. Or merely different twigs.

And, maybe your nest has more than one birdie sitting inside it. Just like mine does.

After I got home. And after I received the unconditional love from a dog hug. After my husband snapped a digital picture. And after a story came to me in a flash. In the blink of an eye. There was one more surprise waiting for me at the end of the night last night.

I was gone from home yesterday all day. I was very messy and I was very dirty. I felt love and life and God himself inside me though.

So as I sat on the kitchen floor.
And as my brown doggie greeted me and hugged me.
And after husband took that photo that I requested… He said...

“Happy Valentine’s Day”

And, all three of us turned to face each other. Me. Husband. Dog.

And Hubby handed me a bouquet of beautiful pink tulips.

FLOWERS...

Flowers for HIS own Valentine Birdie. I guess I’m a bird too? I instantly grabbed the flowers. And I cried of happiness.

So there we all sat.

On the kitchen floor, of the nest, in our second story tree house villa.

Brown Birdie was hugging Mama Birdie.

Husband Birdie was handing Mama Birdie some flowers.

Mama Birdie was very hot, very messy, and very sweaty. Spills and stains and hours of that sweat all over her dirty clothes. With hugs and flowers. And lots of happiness. And lots of endless love.

And Husband Birdie took the picture.

The picture worth a thousand words… Or, 1661 words to be exact.

Happy Valentine’s Day, from my nest, to your nest. And to all birdies, and all the eggs, in all the nests, resting on all the branches, in all the trees, in all the World.~