Sushi, Crab Legs and Creme Brulee, What More Could a Girl Want?

Today my little brother is taking me to Sushi at our favorite place, Mr. Sushi. They have excellent sushi and the staff is incredibly nice. I have never once had a problem or gotten sick from eating there! Later to night, after Nakita gets off work, we are heading up the hill to have an all you can eat crab legs dinner at Ameristar! Not only is that fantastic but they also make delicious creme brulee. Plus it is a good excuse to dress cute and eat as much good food as possible, like any real American!

Today is a lovely day so read my stories and then go out and have some fun before the wind picks up again and takes us all away!

20 February 2014

Pickles and Milk

My great Oma was a kind and loving woman. We loved going to her house because she would give us a piece of candy the moment we entered the front door. She would take us out back to smell her beautiful roses ad play with her sweet dog. Her house always had this specific smell that I can't describe but every time I catch a whiff of it I feel like I am at home.

Whenever we went over there, she would insist that we drink milk. I still remember those cups. They were the small plastic 70's style ones. The only problem with being made to drink a glass of milk was he fact that I hated milk. I absolutely hated milk and would gag when I had to drink it. My wonderful great Oma , who had a solution for everything, had a solution for my problem. With my glass of milk I got a pickle. Now to most of you that is unimportant or even disgusting. My favorite thing in the world used to be dill pickles.

If I remember correctly, she always had the Mt. Olive pickles. I will never forget the look of that jar. She would tell me, in her sweet German accent, that I could have the pickle with my milk if I drank all of my milk. If I didn't drink my milk I couldn't have my pickle next time. I still didn't like milk but I did NOT want to drink my milk. Being a smart child I found my own solution. I bit into my pickle and squeezed pickle juice into my milk. As soon as my milk was yellowish color, I knew it was safe enough to drink. Right now, that actually churns my stomach but as a kid I loved it! Plus it got me to drink my milk!

This is my favorite memory of a woman that I only knew for my short childhood. She passed away when Christian was just a a little baby so I was about 8. I only have select memories of her and they are all so wonderful. She never once said anything about me drinking my pickled milk because at least I was drinking the milk. I miss my great Oma everyday and cherish these stories of my time with her.

21 February 2014

The Story Is Yours

History is written by the victors.

Will you fail

To have your story told

Or will you be victorious?

Shall you be a stone,

Slowly or not at all breaking down

Or will you be a snowflake,

Melting quickly in a fleeting moment?

How will your story be told

To all the world and its listeners?

Speak it loud, speak it proud,

Or speak it not at all, the choice is yours.