Brick Wall. Meet Forehead.

Some days, I have to wonder about just how bright I am.

I write my own blog. I write about food I make. I use cookbooks I bought or that were given to me. So, essentially, this all about me, me, me, me. (no comments from the peanut gallery!) When I think about it that way, I have to wonder why in the world have I been making it so darned hard to write about my last few cooking adventures?

Well, after whining about the lack of visits from my writing muse, she swung by and gave me a swift kick to the seat of my pants, told me to stop crying and reminded me that I make the rules around here.

Oh. Yeah. Duh.

Turns out that trying to write one blog entry about a weekend's worth of cooking adventures while visiting my parents was not my brightest idea. Far from it when you consider the fact that the three different meals didn't even necessarily have the same cookbook in common.

For the record, I've scrapped four versions of a post while trying to cram too much into it. I swear. You'd think I wasn't a professional in the communication field at that rate. How embarrassing.

Now that I'm past my own, self-imposed, dumb-as-all-get-out, brick wall writer's block, I feel like I can move on and write a few different posts about delicious goodies such as Apple-Pecan Pie, Cream of Chicken Soup, Cactus Jack Biscuits and Bacon Pineapple Muffins.

Exicting, huh?

Now, if you'll excuse for me for a bit, I have to go get some ice for my forehead. It feels like it's been bashed against a brick wall one or two times recently.