Day 58- Active Giving (Gilda's Club) and Lunch Lady Corn
The wife of one of Tom's good friends posted a link today asking for donations. She will be running a 25k and is trying to raise money for Gilda's Club, an organization that "lends a helping hand to local families dealing with cancer." She said that even $5 would help. That's when the little bells in my head rang.
Hey, I'm giving $5 today. Why not use this opportunity to make a donation to someone I know?
This was a no brainer, and I hope NN reaches her fundraising goal! Here's where you can go to add to the pot. This is a place where you know your $5 will count and make a little impact.
http://www.active.com/donate/gildasclubgr2011/nniemi
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When I was in elementary school, I had a strange obsession with school lunch corn. I was not a fan of mystery meat pizza, I had to pinch my nose sometimes to eat entrees named for their colors (rather than their ingredients), and I smothered fish sticks in a ridiculous amount of sauce to make them bearable.
Man oh man, though, I sure did love my lunch lady corn. Come to think of it, I loved the turkey biscuit gravy stuff too... but OH the corn. It was always floating around in some kind of liquid and had been peppered heavy-handedly. I know it's weird. I can't explain it. There was just something about it.
I made stuffed peppers for dinner tonight, and I can never figure out what goes well with them as a side dish. I decided to make corn because we hadn't had it in a while, and it introduced a brand new color to the dinner palatte (another weird thing that is important to me). I drained it most of the way but left a bit of liquid on board. I added just a touch of butter and went to town with the salt and pepper. As it heated on the stove, an old familiar smell wafted at me in the living room. Could it be? Was it possible?
Purely by accident, I had created lunch lady corn.
I mentioned this to Tom, and (surpisingly!) he knew exactly what I meant. He was even excited too. I think this really proves once and for all that we are meant to be. We savored our corn and packed a bit away to continue the joy tomorrow at lunch. It's the special little kernels that make life grand, isn't it?
Thank you, lunch lady corn, you made my day.
Hey, I'm giving $5 today. Why not use this opportunity to make a donation to someone I know?
This was a no brainer, and I hope NN reaches her fundraising goal! Here's where you can go to add to the pot. This is a place where you know your $5 will count and make a little impact.
http://www.active.com/donate/gildasclubgr2011/nniemi
******
When I was in elementary school, I had a strange obsession with school lunch corn. I was not a fan of mystery meat pizza, I had to pinch my nose sometimes to eat entrees named for their colors (rather than their ingredients), and I smothered fish sticks in a ridiculous amount of sauce to make them bearable.
Man oh man, though, I sure did love my lunch lady corn. Come to think of it, I loved the turkey biscuit gravy stuff too... but OH the corn. It was always floating around in some kind of liquid and had been peppered heavy-handedly. I know it's weird. I can't explain it. There was just something about it.
I made stuffed peppers for dinner tonight, and I can never figure out what goes well with them as a side dish. I decided to make corn because we hadn't had it in a while, and it introduced a brand new color to the dinner palatte (another weird thing that is important to me). I drained it most of the way but left a bit of liquid on board. I added just a touch of butter and went to town with the salt and pepper. As it heated on the stove, an old familiar smell wafted at me in the living room. Could it be? Was it possible?
Purely by accident, I had created lunch lady corn.
I mentioned this to Tom, and (surpisingly!) he knew exactly what I meant. He was even excited too. I think this really proves once and for all that we are meant to be. We savored our corn and packed a bit away to continue the joy tomorrow at lunch. It's the special little kernels that make life grand, isn't it?
Thank you, lunch lady corn, you made my day.
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