Happy Memorial Day! Andrew the H, Henry, and I packed our bags and headed to the Bluff City this weekend to check out Ol’ Man River and see my little sister graduate from medical school. It’s been a long four years, but the day has finally arrived. She can now officially add those two capital letters to the end of her name—M.D. Congratulations Jess! And the Mississippi has gone down…
The Super Bowl is coming up on Sunday, and this girl loves a Super Bowl party. I really don’t know why that is. I am not a big fan of football (much to my hubby’s dismay), and I could care even less about NFL football. Andrew blames it on the fact that I didn’t go to a football school (yup I confess, I love basketball, can you blame me?). The truth…
I don’t really remember eating meatloaf growing up. In fact, I feel like meatloaf has gotten a bad rap for all of these years. Maybe because it can be synonymous with cafeteria food or because it was always featured looking plastic-y and dry on 1950’s t.v. dinners (sort of like Salsbury Steak right? Blech). Or maybe because it looks like brown mystery meat. Whatever the reason is irrelevant. Meatloaf seems…