An Experiment Because I am Elderly

Turns out I am elderly. Ancient. Old as the hills. I'm 47. And a half. Or maybe two-thirds. Either way.

Granny-ish.

I've reached the point in my long life where the bravest thing I can do is wear a cozy sweater to work. It's all lovely and pleasant because it's winter, but then BAM! the heat comes on and I'm legitimately afraid I might die. Picture me with my esteemed colleagues around a conference table suddenly red-faced and breathing hard, wondering if this is really the end. Wondering who else notices my distress. Pretending everything is fine when, in fact, my very insides are melting. 

I wore a sweater to Christmas Eve church, and the air conditioning was not sufficient for the crowd. I was thankful to sweet baby Jesus that I wasn't wearing socks so I could take off my shoes to place my bare feet on the cold floor to keep from passing out. Did other people notice? My brain was too molten to care. 

Screw bravery. I'll keep wearing layers.

Another thing that apparently happens when you become elderly is that you need to eat protein. PROTEIN! Every middle-aged woman's TikTok is screaming at them to eat more of it. Then more. Then MORE! It's never enough. Start your day with 30 grams of protein. Your bones or your brain or something else I can't remember really need it!

I don't know if you've ever tracked protein, but the idea of starting my day with 37 eggs and a side of pork is just not something I can get into. 

In addition, I am not a big meat eater. At any meal, the sides are my favorite. A meal of sides is like the best. At Thanksgiving I could eat only dressing and sweet potatoes and be happy until next year. I could totally do without meat. 

As a sidebar, my sister and her family are the opposite. They are meat people. Their "dinner is ready" means that they've grilled/smoked/roasted some steaks, sausage, brisket, ribs, and maybe some pork butt for dessert. We recently meal planned several times with my brother-in-law and sister, and I what I wouldn't give for a baked potato or some cornbread when I'm with those people. Her bones or brain or whatever are probably top-notch. 

(Sidebar #2: The last two paragraphs have "that's what she said" playing in my head. I'm not proud of it, but you were probably thinking it, too, so let's just call it out. Moving on.)

Anyway.

I've been on the lookout for ways to add protein to my diet. I found this recipe on TikTok for a pizza bowl that is super high in protein and looks delicious!  I decided to give it a try while I'm home to see if it's something I can take for lunch at work. There was only one problem.

Cottage cheese. It's basically the reason that the recipe is so high in protein. It also looks like toddler vomit. 

To further complicate matters, I have a self-diagnosed lactose intolerance...kind of....sometimes. Looking at yogurt makes me physically ill. Ice cream and milk have less dire consequences, but dire enough that I avoid them. Cheese, however, doesn't bother me at all. Now, scientifically this may not actually be possible, but seeing as I'm technically a doctor I'm probably right.

So, on a scale of yogurt to cheddar, where does cottage cheese fall? I mean, it has "cheese" in the name but looks disturbingly like chunky yogurt. 

However, since I started this post I have changed my mind and decided to be brave again, so I'm giving it go.

I first decided to whip the cottage cheese to make the consistency more pleasant. I have seen this on TikTok so it must be true, easy, and a fantastic idea. I tried it in the Magic Bullet, but it just moved around the container in all its chunky glory. Undeterred, I got out the blender and tried every single setting on there. Chunks. So I gave up on the aesthetics of my new dish and pressed on.

I layered cottage cheese, pizza sauce (I didn't have any so I seasoned some canned tomato sauce), pepperoni, shredded mozzarella, and leftover breakfast sausage. Baked for 16ish minutes at 375. 

And let me tell you. I am winning. 

It's delicious! And think of the possibilities!  Olives. Onions. Vegetables. I have found a new go-to lunch.

My next experiment is going to be breakfast quesadillas. I eat breakfast in my car every day when I am exactly 16 miles from where I turn onto Highway 290 (don't ask why - this is perfectly normal), so I need something portable that stays warm and has PROTEIN. 

Because I am elderly.

If you have any other recipes that I need to try, send them my way!

The end. 

Christmas in Two Hours

For the second year in a row we went to Nashville to celebrate Christmas and our anniversary. And for the second year in a row we saw the Amy Grant and Vince Gill Christmas concert at the Ryman. Trey doesn't love concerts, but he was excited to see this particular one again. It's an 80s and 90s church kid's dream, I suppose. 

During the show, I was trying to put words into what made it so special. What makes these songs from these people in this moment epitomize Christmas so well? And how can I share with everyone?

These are my thoughts:

1) Vince Gill is silly. He talked about how terrible chestnuts are and changed the words of "The Christmas Song" to cashews. During the borderline-sacred Christmas song "Grownup Christmas List," instead of singing the correct lyric (right will always win) he sang "the Titans finally win." He joked and laughed and seemed to just have fun. Like a kid at Christmas. It was contagious.

2) Veterans. During the show they turned up all the house lights and asked veterans to stand and be honored. Then they asked anyone who would not be with a family member this Christmas because that person is serving in the military to stand. Many shows and artists honor our veterans, but this hit a little different. It was a great moment.

3) Family. Vince and Amy (we're basically personal friends now so I call them that), act like two people who both love each other and like each other. They spoke about their blended family and their holidays together. One of their daughters was singing backup and another daughter came out and sang "When my Momma Prays." It's a song that Vince wrote for Amy that was originally "When my Amy Prays." As she sang I was overcome with gratitude because I have a Mom like that, and it made me want to be a mom like that. It felt like Christmas because it felt like family. 

4) Reverence. Christmas is about hope and joy and peace. Christmas carols proclaimed the joy of the season. Her song "Count Your Blessings" has never been one of my favorites, but hearing it in that moment was a reminder that we all have peace right at our fingertips if we only choose to see it. 

5) Everyone. The show ended with all the microphones turned off and the entire crowd singing "The First Noel." Everyone. I don't know how many people fit in The Ryman, but we were all worshipping together. I think (I guess I know) that some versions of Christianity these days are exclusive. I'm troubled by it. This Christmas moment was for everyone and it reminded me that Jesus is for everyone, not just those who see the world the same way I do. 

So there you go. It was Christmas in two hours. I hope that this Christmas Eve you can find time to be silly. To remember those who can't be with their families because they volunteered to be our protectors. That you get to spend time with family and share a happy memory or two of those you can't be with. That you remember not everyone sees the world the same way you do which can be beautiful.

And that your soul will be nourished with the reverence of Christmas. 

There is always, always hope and joy and peace. 

Sweet Potatoes and Advent

Today we mostly decorated for Christmas. It's also the first day of Advent. One year I wrote a post for every day of Advent, and I'm not entirely sure that's something I can commit to this year. I spend about 12 hours a week in a car commuting to work (by choice, and audiobooks are awesome!), so it's all about setting good boundaries with my time these days. Maybe I'll write again before Baby Jesus comes.

Anyway, we watched our first day of Advent church online from our bed. There was a little football game last night that you may have heard about, and it had us in bed after midnight. As we watched on TV this morning, we were reminded that the first candle of Advent is lit for hope.

Fast forward to this afternoon. I turned on a Hallmark movie to try to get myself hyped about decking the Hickman Family Halls. If you know me at all, you know I believe Hallmark movies are mostly good for heckling, not so much for entertainment. Nonetheless, I Hallmarked. I think this made Trey happy, but it mostly made me grinchier.

While setting up nativities and Santas, I was struck by how much has changed in 2024. I left the organization I worked for for 21 years. Keaton moved out, leaving us empty nesters. We (kind of) started going to a new church. All of these fundamental things in my life are the opposite of the last time I hauled the Christmas decorations out of storage. 

So I had a moment. A good cry, if you will. And bless the heart of the wonderful Trey Hickman, he sat with me right through it. 

Once I got over myself, I remembered the sermon from Church #2 last week. I should probably mention the scripture here, but honestly I don't remember it. I remember the message being over the great debate about marshmallows or pecans and brown sugar on the sweet potatoes at Thanksgiving. 

People have opinions, man. 

The point? In the end what really matters is the sweet potatoes. We can fuss and fight and argue (and be sad) about the toppings, but without the sweet potatoes we got nothin'.

I read something today that said "You can't live in gratitude and expectation. You have to pick one." I'm not sure I agree with that, but today I choose gratitude. 

And so on this first day of Advent I am thankful for the sweet potatoes. For the good guy God gave me to marry. The fun job I have with encouraging people. All the great folks I got to work with and love on over the years in my other job. That my kids live basically down the street. That Trey and I are 47 and 57 and still have all four of our parents here this holiday season. And a million billion other things. 

As Mike Greeson would say, "The Good Lord takes care of us, don't he?"

Apparently I'm co-opting the advent week of hope for gratitude. Let's call it the final week of Thanksgiving as well. I hope you have a week of gratitude ahead of you. 

(See what I did there?)

Baby Jesus is coming to save the world! And he loves every darn one of us whether we like it or not. He is the sweet potatoes!  

I love Christmas!

P.S. - The right answer is pecans and brown sugar. 

P.S.S. - This is my cardinal tree. If you ever gave me a cardinal ornament, it comes out every Christmas and I remember you with joy in my heart. 

The end.