Alisa. 37. New Hampshire. Married for almost three years to this wonderful, funny, smart guy. Previously married. Went through in-vitro fertilization to have my five year old magical son Keegan. Stepmother to the charming Isabelle (6). Gushingly in love with our baby boy Harper(1). Policy Wonk and dreaded bureaucrat. Lover of fine cuisine, honeybees, truly romantic moments and the underdog.
Curried Beef Short Ribs

Note: I found this was more realistically four servings.

Finishing this dish with lime zest and juice brightens its rich flavors.

Yield 6 servings (serving size: about 3 ounces ribs, 2/3 cup rice, and about 2 1/2 tablespoons sauce)

2 teaspoons canola oil
2 pounds ...continue reading

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Their Voices

Okay here is part two before the day is over.

Left Dartmouth and descended into hell. In the form of four snowplows blocking all the lanes and going 20 mph. This went on for miles and miles. The roads weren't even that bad that far north. They usually stagger themselves so that motorists may pass if they chose to. This went on until we merged with another highway. I got by and a few miles down we hit a dead stop. As we inched by I saw a car completely flipped over in a ditch. The driver was out and seemed okay. How scared must she have been? I kept pressing on to the Mass border and my ultimate destination. The Young Women's Creative Writing poerty reading for Women's Week.
I did make it and only 10 minutes late. We started late anyway to see if others would come. Erika had the table setup with fresh flowers and yummy snacks. She MC'd the evening with style despite that she a killer stress bomb day. I felt crappy that I couldn't have been there to help.
The girls were wonderful, shy at first but then got their courage up. I always feel so proud to hear them up there shining. The reading ended with Amber reading the poem she wrote for me. It was the first time I heard it read by her. It was even better that way. Then Erika had a surprise. She got the staff to each write a few lines and then put it together into a poem about me. I loved it. I loved it as a single tear fell down my cheek. I drove my mom home from the reading with the smell of the bouquet they gave me permeating the car. To be loved and appreciated is the best feeling in the world.

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