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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Mobile Home

The internet can be so cool. Here I am minding my own little business on my blog and minding some of your's on your blogs. And along comes someone from a random search. A someone who lived in the same place in Italy only a few years earlier. A someone who through exchanging emails I find out lived in exactly my same house. This is amazing to me. Everywhere we lived I wondered about the people who had come before. I used to check the closets for notes that they might have left. When we moved I wanted a way to tell them. Tell them about a little girl in a new place. A little girl who spent time in that house which was home for a while. A little girl who always wanted a place to stay "for keeps." A little girl who could not mark her history with places but with memories she carried in her heart. I always wanted to connect with the next little girl in that room. I always wanted to connect.
Now as a "grownup" I struggle between two desires. The itchy feeling I get after 3 or 4 years to move and the deeper need for roots. To have "my" house in "my" neighborhood and a real hometown. Is it any wonder I become emotional about our little house we sold last year? We made it ours together. All the flowers and plants were put there by me. That's the first deck we ever built, the first shed roof we ever installed ourselves. Memories tied to a place. Admittedly we left by choice and I love our new house. But we already talk about moving farther north in a few years. And we'll leave behind this place too. Filled with the nursery, bringing home the baby and young childhood memories. A "brat curse" to wander and look for something better somewhere else. But this time I get to choose.

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