The Phone Call. The Hospital. The Accident.

"I'm okay." Those were the first words I heard. But even before I heard my husband's voice, I heard semi-trucks and cars passing by in the background, I heard wind. I heard the voice of a man I knew to be my husband but who I also knew was quite the opposite of okay. 

I said I'd meet him at the hospital. I said I loved him. I said all of the things a wife says to her husband when they've been hurt. I tried to be very calm. I felt my chest heave up and down. I bit my lip to keep from crying. I was slow and careful. I wanted him to not worry about me driving.

Then I remember very little about getting in the car and leaving. I remember this: Emergency lights and an approaching slow down of traffic. It was already dark outside. The lights were incredibly bright. Glaring. I began to shake. I knew instinctively this was where my husband was standing. This was my husband's accident. He's standing somewhere in the middle of all this. . . waiting for an ambulance, already in the ambulance?, being given directions, being given tests, answering questions. Everything began to move in slow motion. 

Vegan Apple Pandowdy (The Vintage Un-Pie)

I had little time, lots of apples (still) and a craving for something in pastry crust. Isn't this how most amazing desserts happen? Couple things struck me about the name "pandowdy" when I first stumbled across it. First thing was where in the heck did this name come from? Well actually I didn't spend much time thinking about this--I craved dessert, not a dissertation. But in the off chance you're curious about the origin of the old pandowdy, I "discuss" more fully below. But not in length, 'kay? Second thing was a southern declaration I'd heard first after moving to Missouri when I was in high school: Boy Howdy! Strange little thing to remember. It seems to fit nicely with "pandowdy". 

Vegan Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies (My Favorite New Running App . . .which means more cookies for me!)

I wouldn't recommend anyone try baking these cookies while watching a presidential debate. Things got a little crazy--I had two trays of these going at once, setting the oven timer to remind me to switch the cookies sheets front-to-back, bottom-to-top--all while making dinner to boot. It was sheer madness in my kitchen. (Interspersed with bouts of screaming at the television.) However, these cookies suffered not. In fact, I'd say the chaos cookery I had going on may have enhanced the yum factor. Why so much at once? Well, for the husband, of course! Dr. Thyme requested something pumpkin be made to take to work the next day as there was to be a "pumpkin" food theme. Typically, I'd jump at the chance to bake cupcakes. But I've been on a cookie tear lately. And pumpkin ranks as high up there as chocolate for me. 

"So For My Next Act, I'll Limit Women's Rights"

Really? So went the general direction of the narrative from one side during last night's debate. So much so, I lost sleep over it. Did I just step off of 2012 and step into the 1950s? Pre Roe v. Wade days were dark for women. Very dark. I remember the first "talk" I had with my mother on the subject of my responsibilities and rights as a woman. And it went something like this: Be careful. Be vigilant. And above all else, do not EVER walk into this house unmarried and pregnant. Period. And the story of her being left in an orphanage followed. One may assume given this history lesson, I might have different thoughts on the matter of birth control. One would be wrong to make such an assumption. And my mother would have been the first to tell you why.

Spinach Artichoke Rigatoni: No Cheese, No Problem (And. . . More Fall Hikes)

We've been having a swell time playing catch up with our outdoor activities. (And I've been playing catch up with blogging--as evidenced by my "oopsie" in somehow hitting the "publish" button prior to adding my verbiage to this post! Hey, it's Monday. . . I'm almost fifty, etc.)

 So we spent the better part of the weekend "outside". It was gorgeous here. When we got home yesterday afternoon, I wanted a really homey, yummy pasta dish. Lucky for me, the Pioneer Woman posted her lovely spinach artichoke pasta dish--complete with gobs of cheese and real milk. It looked divine and I HAD to have some. NOW.