No Filter Friday {Getting Unstuck, Beef Bourguignon and Painted Bellies}

It’s Friday, right? I’ve completely lost track of this week. A root canal, the election, and a menagerie of other pressing things has short circuited my brain. So you have been warned that this post could be one of my random pieces of writing. Ah, don’t be fearful. Lean into the adventure of it.

The skies of southern California have been crying since election day. Buckets and buckets of tears. Do you know why I think there is such sadness? It is because the election call lists have been sold off to sketchy businesses. Seriously. Yesterday my phone rang non-stop. Desperate sales people attempted to sell me solar panels, home improvements (3 times), a trip to Vegas, and a lower rated mortgage. Two calls were requests for donations to a “good cause.” No. Don’t you know how much my taxes went up after Tuesday? If I throw in a little extra will someone enforce the Do Not Call list?

Curses, pearl onions, curses! For nearly four years I have been saying that I was going to make Julia Childs’ Beef (or is that technically Beof?) Bourguignon. That’s a long time to keep track of a promise. It all began with begging my hubs to watch the movie Julia and Julia with me on cold November night. I imagined we’d be cuddled on the couch enjoying a sweet story together. Instead the man spent the entire movie asking, “Can you cook that?” By the end of the movie I felt like a complete failure of a Costco prepared meals pan-transferring wife. Shortly thereafter, Christmas arrived and what do you know, Santa brings me a cast iron crock and Julia’s 1,000 pound syllabus. The attached note said, “Beof Bourguignon, please.” So yeah, that was almost four years ago and I can’t bear to have another Christmas approach without having done what I said I would do.

But the pearl onions! You have to peal those little tiny things, one by one. All 48 of them. It took me forever. I don’t mind things that require precision and attention to details, but I do not want to expend that kind of precious energy on a onion so small I could accidentally choke on it. It took me five hours to complete the masterpiece. The smell of onions are still lingering about me. I confess I sipped on a little wine while cooking, which may account for my almost eighteen year old son generously giving me suggestions for the next time I make it. Honey, there will be no next time. This here Beef Bourguignon is a one hit wonder.

How long is a tooth supposed to hurt after a root canal? My entire gum line hurts–like waking up in the middle of night and wanting to punch something hurts. I have now devoted two weeks to Florence Nightingale-ing this tooth. How much longer?

I feel like it’s the same resentment I have every time I go on Facebook. When is everyone going to stop talking about their election woes? Haven’t we given enough of our life to it yet? Let’s stop rubber necking the train wreck and move along. I’d like to encourage us to think about the one thing about the election that makes us pound our fist on the table and say, “I can’t take this anymore!” Do you know what it is? Okay, once you do, stand up from where ever you are and go do something about it. Keep your mouth closed, roll up your sleeves, smile and make a difference.

My cousin tells this story of my grandpa about how once upon finding themselves stuck in mud with a carload of uncles, dads, and cousins, all the young and strong-bodied men sat dejectedly lamenting the situation. Grandpa, being the oldest and frailest, whipped off his seatbelt and declared “Don’t just sit there. Get out and fix it.” They watched as this gentle giant set to work getting the car out of the mud. Instead of sitting in our car feeling stuck maybe we could follow my grandpa’s example. Rather than pointing fingers at the government or our political rivals, we could look in the mirror of honesty and answer the question, “What could I be doing that I am not?” Then go do it.  Sprinkle a little salt. Light a little candle. But really, no more grumbling (James 3:9-10). It is a dirty lie straight from the pit of hell that we are powerless (Eph. 2:10; 3:20) and well it makes us look pitiful.

Tomorrow the man and I fly to go see our boy in Seattle. Hubs would say he’s going to see how the boy is doing. Me? I want to make sure his room is clean. See, when he moved into his place I was there–I helped him tidy it all up. Since that time, his room was flooded. Yep  the broken pipe liked his room best. So he had to move everything out and then move it all back in by himself. {{{Shudder}}} He needs his mommy.

While we’re in Seattle we’ll get to spend some time with family and be the 12th man at the Seahawks game. Yes, I am all kinds of crazy excited about this. Look for me on TV–I’ll be the one with the painted belly. Or will I?

What are you doing this weekend? I hope it will be filled with food, friends and the celebration of the freedom we have have in Christ.

1 thought on “No Filter Friday {Getting Unstuck, Beef Bourguignon and Painted Bellies}

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