Go Figure..

As most people know...I am not a fan of eating fish...any fish. I think most of it smells and tastes quite ghastly. The seafood portion of the menu at any restaurant is not my idea of good reading. (Roy claims he has saved a lot of money on me over the years!) We were at a buffet-type restaurant not long ago when I accidentally spooned some crab salad on my plate, and quite literally gagged when it got to my taste buds. And years ago, Robert took us to a seafood place at Seaside, OR, and was thoroughly disgusted when I wouldn't try the seafood. He said, "Mom, this fish is so fresh...it was swimming this morning!" I know, I know...call me crazy. And the irony is more than obvious...I'm married to a fishing fool!! He used to be a "catch and release" fisherman mostly, and when he did bring some home, he would always give it to the widows in the ward, because he didn't necessarily love it either. But lately, he has developed a taste for fish, and he started keeping all the fish he catches in the lakes and reservoirs around here. Living with me, he has discovered that if he wants to eat fish, he better be willing to cook it himself. When Roy was growing up, all they had to do was catch the fish, bring them in the house, throw them in the sink, and his mom would clean them and cook them! (Sorry, honey, one more way I just can't be as good as your mom!)


Anyway, a month or so ago we gave some fish to a friend who made fish tacos with them. Up to that point, whenever I heard about fish tacos I would get a full-body shudder! But when she described them to me, I thought it would be interesting to try. Find the recipe here.

Surprise, Surprise! I liked them! There's something about the cabbage, Pico de Gallo, and spicy ranch dressing that is so good together. (Maybe it's because the fish taste is drowned out by all the good stuff.) Roy still cooks the fish part, but, hey... baby steps, right?

You Can Always Find the Good...

Last week I was able to go back "home" to Chester to attend the funeral of a dear friend, Cynthia Hillman. She had suffered with Crohn's disease for several months and passed away suddenly at her home when everyone thought she was actually doing better and on the mend. The death of someone so close, in friendship and in age, hit me hard. We had many things in common. She and I both had 5 kids, all pretty much the same ages and gender. We both loved to garden, sew, and do crafts. We served together in YW, Primary, and cub scouts.

It was great to see many other old friends from the ward that we lived in for 18 years, and pretty much raised our kids with. There's something about sitting on the same benches during ball games, wrestling matches, and pack meetings, cheering each others kids on. And sending them to girl's camp, on missions, helping with their wedding receptions, and lending a shoulder to cry on when one of them breaks your heart. When we moved to Bancroft, we left that part of our life behind. People here have been great, but have only known us as empty-nesters and sometimes asked, "Oh, you have other kids?"

There was time after the viewing when there was a little time to reconnect with a lot of these old friends. After visiting and laughing with them for a few minutes, Marsha said, "It's just like she's never left, huh?" And Donna said, "Come back!" And someone else said, "Your old house is just sitting there empty, you know." It made me feel good to know they felt that way. I think there will always be a bond with those people, no matter how many years go by. I will always be interested in what their kids are doing, and sharing in their joys and their heartaches.

So I guess the moral of this story is that there is always good that comes out of bad. I hated that we were there to attend the funeral of a dear friend, but glad that it gave me a reason to see and re-bond with others from that time period in my life that have been dear to my heart.