About jeanleesworld

A writer, reader, mother.

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 25

Ever have your garage door freeze shut? I have!

Luckily a few attempts to open and close it jarred the thing free so I could still get Biff and Bash to school on time.

That early smack of stress, though, got me hittin’ the chamomile-lavender tea before breakfast. It doesn’t help my keynote’s in…48 hours. My final interview for a full-time teaching position is the day after that.

But I’m not complaining about all that again, because I’ve found the right music for a far better, far more productive mood.

Bo put this song along with many others into CDs he’d make for me to play on those long drives between home and graduate school. Now that the kids are into the Blues Brothers, we’ve been tapping the Motown, Blues, and R&B for family drives. Out of all the artists, the Four Tops remain on top for me!

Part of it’s the rhythm, upbeat and steady. How can you not tap your feet to these numbers? Part of it’s the ability to sing along–an excellent sensory distraction to keep anxiety at bay while I grade and prep school stuff.

The biggest part of all? They’re damn good songs.

If you’re feeling a little down today, pick up some Four Tops. Hum and dance those downer thoughts away. Like I tell my students, any step taken forward is one more step completed on the academic journey. For us, it’s the writing journey, mental health journey, parenting journey.

The Life Journey. x

Before you sashay on out of here, don’t forget there’s some fantasy fiction FREE & ON SALE to take you on new roads to adventure! Click here for my Amazon Author Page for more.

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 24

One week from today is Day 31.

Next Sunday, I can have peanut butter. Or pizza. Or pie. Or pizza and peanut butter pie slathered with whipped cream and chocolate chips and fudge chunks and kit kats and–

Now now, Jean. One week from now or one month from now, you got to stay the course.

Even my mom, who wasn’t enthused with our venture at the outset but has since grown impressed with Bo’s dedication, put a pretty important question to me:

“How are you going to stick with it?”

Because dammit, we have to.

Now I’m not saying I’ll never let myself have peanut butter again. But it can’t be a daily staple for me, either, just like ice cream, or cocoa, or heck, even bread. Even Bo’s accepting that label-reading in grocery stores has to continue so we can keep our sugar intake down. We both want to enjoy sugar, but on our terms.

That means creamer for coffee–yay!

But no sugar in our pasta sauce or canned goods.

That means the occasional pizza–yay!

But dairy’s off-limits in the daily fare. These past few weeks have made me realize just how many culinary sins I used to cover up with shredded cheese or wads of butter. Bo and I have always been pretty easy-going in our tastes–meat’n’potatoes folk, if you will. So long as we have clarified butter and a few good spices to mix up with the meat and veg, we’re good.

That means a nummy submarine sandwich–yay!

But grains cannot be a staple in meals. Bo’s got to keep taking salads to work. No more noodle-based casseroles during the week. All those carbs in the evening are just going to sit in our guts and do nothing.

Don’t forget dessert! Dessert CAN BE REAL DESSERT AGAIN! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

Eh. No. No, Jean.

When I was in graduate school, I could only afford oatmeal packets, rice, frozen vegetables, and creamed soup to eat. Ten bucks would buy me enough of those things for the week, with a little leftover to restock my coffee when that ran out. When I got married, Bo and I loved having all sorts of sundaes, brownies, cookies, cakes….we looooooooved our desserts.

But you know…that made them, well, not all that special.

I want that piece of apple pie to be special. I want to appreciate that sweet treat, not take it for granted.

Which is why, of course, I must eat an entire apple pie in order to appreciate it properly.

Oh, to be that child…

Ahem.

Now I better scoot. Trouble’s brewing upstairs over a certain 3rd grader’s Science Fair project.

In the meantime, enjoy a tasty dish of adventure with Charlotte and Liam before they wreak havoc with Arlen’s pies. 99 pennies will get you the whole novel plus some kickin’ bonus stuff. It doesn’t get sweeter than this!

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 23

ONE WEEK LEFT! WOOHOO!

My apologies for a super-brief post yesterday. I must be too old for writing on the mobile phone, which was all I had in the few minutes wandering one of my hometowns while waiting for a friend. Perhaps someday I’ll stay in the historic bed and breakfast here, the one my elementary classmates always insisted was haunted.

But that’s for another day. Last night was a lovely evening of laughter and griping about books, work, lives, and so on. I could feel a load of tension drop from my shoulders for the first time all week.

Of course, that tension grabbed right back on this morning.

Bo and I were supposed to drive across Wisconsin and Minnesota to attend a family function.

How the hell will I get work done? What if I don’t connect with the other people there? Can my mother handle all three kids by herself for TWO nights? Did they survive the sledding trip? What if we get stuck on the road? What if we get into an accident? What if–

You know how it goes.

We set off before dawn. Rain slid along the pavement, down our coats and along the car’s hood.

And froze.

Oh, the ice set in quick. The road was nothing better than a skating rink. We could see the trailers of semis slowly wing one way, then another. It didn’t take long for Bo to say, “No way. Rain’s one thing. Snow’s one thing. But this is all ice, dear. We can’t swing this.”

THANK GOD.

How could I not agree? Not just for my selfish “I need to work” reasons, but for our own safety, our kids’ welfare. Yeah, I felt bad about disappointing the MN relations, but kids’ needs first, period. Paragraph. Page. Book.

The return home was tense, but at least we only had a forty-some minute journey as opposed to the five-hour trek just to reach the Minnesota destination. I shook with my coffee carafe by the fireplace while Bo made the greatest breakfast food one could possibly hope for on a cold, ice-addled day:

Yup. Bacon.

S.J. Higbee made such a great comment to me last week after my anxiety attack about the importance of comfort. While the Whole30 diet has been important for Bo and me, the lack of comfort food has made recovering from anxiety all the harder. The new teas have helped, yes, and Bo found some essential oils I can use while driving.

But dammit, I miss peanut butter!

Bacon’s a good runner-up, though, and Whole30 compliant if you find the right brand.   That first bite took aaaall the tension knotted between my shoulder blades. We split the whole package of bacon between the two of us, and neither of us regret a single bite. After a month of remembering lost loved ones and fretting over future changes, the dangerous trek on the ice was the last straw for both of us.

Finding that moment of sensory comfort made all the difference.

So, now that I’m calm and safe, it’s almost time to head back out on the road to pick the kids up from Grandma’s!

(sigh)

Don’t worry. The rain’s finally let up and the ice is melting. My tummy’s got comfort food, I have comfy smells to smell, comfy music to listen to.

And a comfy Bo to hold my hand. x

So while we’re off grabbing children between the raindrops, feel free to check out my stories which are free here, here, and on sale here. Don’t forget to leave a word or two of a review when you’re done, because we writers LOVE hearing readers think!

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 22

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (3)

After a day of crazy grading in the basement while the boys go nuts upstairs with Bo, a day of watched breathing and breaks for sunshine, I am typed-out. It’s time for a dusk of old haunts in old towns.

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Just another week, my friends.

We got this.

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

#Writing #Music: #AlexandreDesplat II and my #Author #Interview with @bidwellhollow

My previous music post connected with quite a few genres of storytelling: mystery, horror, and adventure. I’d like to spend a touch more time on mystery, as I’m currently writing the third novel of the Fallen Princeborn omnibus, whose plot is riddled with mysteries both solved and begun.

We have all of us had our bloody days, Charlotte. For many it is easier to remain in them than to change. To change requires to face a past stained by screams. (5)
(The first novel in the series is still on sale, by the way! Click here to grab it while the grabbin’s good.)

Finding the right atmosphere for mysteries is not always simple. Is this a murder mystery with a steady body count, death threats and chases galore? Or is this mystery more slow-burn style, a hunt for the conspiracy with little blood seen but destined to be found if the mystery isn’t solved?

I love both kinds, so of course my book’s a mix of both. While scores like Mad Max: Fury Road, Batman Begins, Bourne Supremacyand others of heavy percussion help with action-heavy moments, it’s important to find the music to counter-balance that. Mychael Danna’s Breach has some lovely tension-filled moments, but I’d like to highlight another score of beautiful, unsettling ambiance: Alexandre Desplat’s The Imitation Game.

Once again, Desplat’s use of the piano is superb. Those first few seconds of solo piano and a low running bass note immediately establish a sense of problem, of not-rightness. The repetitive run of four notes throughout the entire track also gives that feeling of mechanization, of clockwork not in our control. The strings that swell in around the 40-second mark bring a bittersweet air to them, harmonizing with the piano, but more often in a minor key than a traditional major one. Woodwinds are held off until the last minute of the track, and here, the oboe gets a chance to shine. I’m usually not a fan of the oboe (I blame one of my elementary school classmates in band who had one and NEVER learned to play it correctly. Honestly, nothing sounds worse than an awful oboe except maybe an awful violin played by me, ahem.), but when done right the oboe provides a strong yet light tragic air to a melody before it subtly fades into the quiet.

Even Desplat’s percussion is kept relatively light.

With another arpeggio, this time in a lower key, and a few percussion instruments like rhythm sticks, Desplat creates a menacing air fitting for the wartime conflict. This story is, after all, not one of the front lines and bomb raids, but the one fought out of sight, where coded words are as deadly as any missile strike. Even xylophones and chimes are put to use, but unlike Danna’s score for Breach, though here patterned melodies provide that feel of mechanization…but not the circuitry of some computer. Here it is time to follow the journeys of logic to decode nature and language.

Whether you are a reader or writer of mysteries, I heartily recommend Desplat’s The Imitation Game to create that air of hidden conflicts and pursuits for truth. Give characters the unspoken need to embrace the mystery.

~*~*~*~

BidwellHollowHomepageLogo

Many, many thanks to the lovely folks of Bidwell Hollow for interviewing me on their site! You can read the interview here.  I’m so excited by their coming podcast series on writers and poets. Please check them out when you have a chance!

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 20

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (3)

Even though this day’s not even half over, I just had to write now because I ticked a victory against anxiety this morning!

Hmm. Maybe I should call this the “Climbing Anxiety.”

Anyway.

We woke up to another messy snow, but thankfully Dane County’s trying to keep all the kids in school. Whew! This winter’s already given us twice as much snow as the 2017-2018 winter season, so it’s nice to know that the schools aren’t going to shut down just because yet another couple powdery inches have fallen. Bo left before dawn at 6am, and I worked on getting the kids up and ready for school.

6:30 news: There are reports of an accident near the intersection of the interstate and highway___

Me: OH MY GOD IT’S BO HE’S DEAD

Hang on, Jean.

He’s an extremely careful driver.

He just had the car in for a tune-up.

He’s been driving this route for years now. He knows how the truckers behave.

He’s driven through worse snow than this, too.

If you don’t hear from him in 2 hours, check his work.

For now, focus on the kids.

I simmered down. Got the kids ready. Kept drinking water and muttering to myself about what I wanted to accomplish today, what I should discuss with the teachers at the PT conferences tomorrow. Made sure the phone was nearby at all times, just in case.

I did NOT have a panic attack.

My chest hurt, yes, and I had to do lots of deep breathing, but I didn’t get dizzy or develop tunnel vision or have a racing heart.

Ten minutes to eight: Bo’s at work, safe and sound. Roads were fine for most of the way.

I said a prayer of thanks and saw the boys off to school. I got ready to text him a quick grocery list, especially keen for him to find a tea I saw recommended for handling anxiety. But then I saw a winter weather advisory on my phone: freezing rain was coming through the county today starting at midday and going on and off into the evening.

Bo would be driving in that.

He shouldn’t be stopping at a store, Jean.

But every time I drive in snow–

Shut that noise. You CAN get there and back before the freezing rain comes.

You’ve driven in way worse crap and lived to tell the tale.

You have to face this, Jean.

It’s now or never.

(Sorry, that BOW BOW noise did actually enter my head at the moment. Better than “Final Countdown,” I suppose.)

I get in the car. There’s coffee, water, bad radio, old Christian rock I discovered in a binder from…college?…smelly lip balm.

Okay.

I go it slow and steady towards the interstate. Few cars both going around me, because the hilly country roads are just too damn risky for fast passes. Whatever accident had occurred had already been cleared. I get onto the interstate without sliding.

And fifteen miles later, I’m off the interstate into the hipster town with the hoidy toidy grocery store.

I made it!

It took smearing balm all over the skin under my nose, lots of talking at the radio, and interrogating myself if I actually stole that music from the Christian book store where I worked twenty years ago or legitimately bought it, but I got there.

The hoidy toidy grocery didn’t have the tea I was hoping for, but they did have another from the article that was strongly recommended. I grabbed it, another container of @#^!&$$ almond milk, and some grapes to reward myself for making it this far. I graciously accepted compliments from the cashiers for my Harry Potter hat, and returned to the car.

Time to do it all again.

Me: I got this far. I can do it again.

Damn right you can. You’re halfway there!

(Okay, I openly admit this song only came to me while writing right now and it was too perfect not to use. Who knew Bon Jovi would provide the soundtrack of my day?)

Not  one dizzy spell the whole drive home. The worst spell was actually just the last miles to town, where a semi decided to tail my ass on a road covered with windblown snow. But rather than freak out, my old-school driver-self took over, and I just kept it slow and avoided braking unless absolutely necessary.

And lo and behold, I’m home.

Driving’s always going to be a potential trigger for an attack. I accept that. But this morning I proved to myself that I CAN drive despite the weather and despite the fear.

That’s a win if I ever knew one.

FLAT FINDERS REALTY

Oh! Before I forget: for those of you who’ve read my novel, I’ve been asked to read an excerpt during my keynote. Any recommendations of a bit–ideally without too many cuss words?

And if you haven’t read my novel yet, you can snatch it up for 99 pennies. Or, you can just check out my free fiction here or here. It’s all good, I think. 🙂

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (2)

Write on, read on, and share on, my friends!

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

 

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 19

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (3)

Thank you all so very, very much for your encouragement and prayers. I know I left things on a bit of a cliffhanger yesterday, so I’ll just pick up from there.

We got the kids from school and fed them an early supper. I tried laying down to see if that helped, but it only made me so damn dizzy to go to the bathroom that I refused to lay down again. I tried eating a little in case I was just lightheaded from not eating–nope. My chest continued to hurt, and my limbs started to feel weird.

Now that, well, that freaked me out.

One look to Bo is all it takes. Short of shoveling food into the kids’ mouths, he gets their coats and says we’re all going NOW. I keep counting my breaths and holding Bo’s hand while we drive. The kids are quiet. Not scared, I don’t think. Probably a little disappointed, actually, considering when I had my first severe panic attack they got to meet firefighters and climb all over the firetruck while the ambulance took me to the hospital. They still recall that as being “a fun day,” the turds.

This time we’re at a clinic, and I’m going to see a doctor. My kids are in the waiting room with their little video games, and Bo has my hand. I’m going to be okay. I’m going to be okay.

And I think because I was there, and knowing I was there to get answers, the panic began to subside.

Figures I calm down just in time to see the doctor.

But it was still a good visit. A professional who knows how hearts and lungs should work is telling me everything’s working as it should. She recommends investing in a wrist FitBit (Pffft, like I have money for that) so I have a visual realization whenever it feels like my heart’s racing, it really isn’t. She does go through various medications, and that I could start taking antidepressants if I so chose.

I squirm a little. Why am I squirming? Didn’t I want an answer like this, a pill that will make everything better?

What IS wrong, Jean? Seriously, what’s wrong?

This month marks 5 years since Dad died, eight years since Bo’s dad died.

You’re in the running for a full-time faculty position at the university.

You got named keynote speaker, so the pressure’s on to stand out during the lit conference.

Your sons got suspended from school again, and now you need to work out their neuro-evals for the sensory integration disorder.

You’re wondering how the hell you’ll write if you do land that full-time gig.

You’re worried about your daughter. Are you pushing her too hard, or not enough? Are you spending enough time with her, or not enough?

Money. Always money issues.

Some other family issues I promised not to write about but have been weighing damn hard on me.

Bo’s finally caring about his health, but is it too late?

And the bloody cherry on top of aaaaaall of this is that my Aunt Flo came this morning. (sorry male readers)

With all that on you and then the monthly hormonal chaos, is it any wonder a panic attack slammed you in the chest again, Jean?

The doctor’s still talking. Not about meds any more, but sensory distractions: essential oils, for instance, working more with music. Drinking a calming tea. Taking a Vitamin D supplement to counter the severe D-deficiency we all experience in these dark winter months.

I take my notes, thank her for her time. The kids are starting to go nuts in the waiting room, but Bo is there. His hand finds mine.

It’s going to be okay.

Maybe I’ll still need those meds, but I’d like to try the tea and the D and the smelly stuff first. No matter what, I’m gonna keep fighting this. Anxiety doesn’t own me. It won’t break me from my family or what I want to do. If I need Zoloft or something to help me fight back, then that’s what I’ll take.

But I will fight this, God. You put me through so damn much to make me stronger. I will not stop fighting, I will not. Stop. Fighting.

Nor should you stop fighting, readers. Never ever.

Keep reading. Sharing. Writing. Shining. Reach out with your hands to those around you. You never know who needs that hand of love to pull them out of the darkness.

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 18

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (3)

So things are a touch mucked up today.

Firstly, I didn’t realize corn wasn’t allowed during the initial Whole30. When Bo found out–after eating our scrumptious dinner of steak, potatoes, onions, and corn–he got upset. Well, correction: got upset for not having read all the guidelines better. I started crying, put myself in a corner to sulk.

Bo came in and showed how already he’s been able to use different notches on his belt. “So we messed up a little. We’re not starting over. This,” he points to his belt, “is working. We’re going to keep going. And you didn’t screw me up–didn’t read everything carefully, either. So stop beating yourself up and let’s have a larabar.”

 

Now today I was doing some writing, working on school stuff….and having another panic attack? It didn’t make sense. Yet there I was, having to measure my breaths to slow my heart down. I was still getting lightheaded. The rational side of me whipped through some possibilities.

  • Did I have too much coffee and not enough water? Go fill the jug and guzzle it.
  • I’m in the basement. Is the circulation just that bad? Open a window.
  • Our radon thing’s been off. Am I breathing something I shouldn’t be? Turn it back on.
  • Are my electrolytes out of whack? Drink some expensive health store orange juice.
  • Too much stress from working? But I didn’t feel stressed at all yesterday, or even this morning. I was feeling really good about a new scene I had outlined, and was hoping to get back at it after working on school stuff.

My heart’s STILL not totally normal as I type this. I was hoping writing here would help like it did last week when I was having an attack, but…well, it’s not, not all the way, at least. I managed to get an appointment with a doctor for this evening so I don’t have to drive. It means dragging the kids along, but Bo can drive and dammit, I just want to rule out something’s physically off.

So I’ll keep you posted, folks.

Prayers would be awesome.

 

 

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 17

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (3)

First, Some Found Pictures:

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Bash’s bugs! Preying mantises in the center. Spiny leaf insects on the left. Some ants. Some katydids on the right. Bash’s on the right as well, and…Biff? I forget.

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Look at that Blondie, all ready for volunteering at the humane society! She keeps asking when we can go back. Here’s hoping she maintains that enthusiasm after cleaning litter boxes. 🙂

~*~

Really, Really Bad Food Haiku Because My Brain’s Even More Fried After Working on that Keynote Presentation

Scrambled, fried, mixed up

In a frenzy of green veg:

Eggs. Again. Yippee.

 

You think you’re so smart,

Posing as pasta under sauce.

I’m on to you, cuke!

 

Dear Almond Milk, you

Do not my coffee sweeten.

In thirteen days–out!

 

I forgot how sweet

potatoes glow, delicious,

Kissed with coconut.

~*~

And now a really good Donald Maass quote I found about Setting. Yes, Wisconsin farmland’s in the background.

maass

That’s it! I’m tapped. My brain tells me it’s not going to give me anything new until tomorrow, when I can FINALLY get back to novel-writing. So until then, folks, you have yourself a lovely eve with the snow as white as coconut, and I’m going to go gnaw on a rectangle of smushed dates and cashews. Yum.

 

how much

Who is this lady? You got to visit my exclusive fiction from the Wilds to find out!

Enjoy a free story from the Wilds, or some free River Vine Fiction oooooooor some magic and romance for a steal while I coalesce. Convalesce? Congress? Coagulate? Conjugate?
I’m going to lay down now….

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (2)

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed

 

#Whole30 #Writing Log: Day 16

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (3)

Breakfast: Biff and Bash enjoy peanut butter waffles, pineapples, and bananas. I do my darndest not to lick the peanut butter off the knife.

Bash: Starscream’s going to attack your Wall-E!

Biff: No he’s not. Activitate Starscream Destructo Ray! Wooosh!

Bash: Nuh uh. Starscream’s a ghost. It goes right through him.

Biff: Activate Starscream Ghost Ray! Wooosh!

Bash: Nuh uh! Starscream’s a super ghost!

Biff: Activate Starscream Super Ghost Ray! Wooosh!

Bash: Nuh uh, it goes right through him cuz he’s a super DUPER ghost!

Biff: Activate Starscream Super Duper Ghost Ray! Wooosh!

~Boistrous battle breaks between Bash and Biff with blocks & busted blue markers.

Boo-boos blessedly bypassed.~

Pardon, folks, but my brain’s a touch fried from grading and preparing a presentation for my university’s literary festival. I’m a keynote speaker this month!

The theme is “Worlds Beyond: Exploration and Imagination.” I’m compiling some Diana Wynne Jones and Donald Maass quotes while mixing up some of my own photos for a discussion on finding inspiration for world-building in the everyday world around you. (Yes, I’m going to plug my novel. I ain’t missin’ this opportunity!) Here’s hoping people don’t mind a touch of the silly during a gathering of intellectual creatives. I mean, come on–I HAVE to quote Jones’ The Tough Guide to Fantasyland for examples of world-building tropes people take seriously far too often.

2016-AUG-Epic-Tropes-The-Tough-Guide-to-Fantasyland-coverFOREST OF DOOM. This is usually the home of mobile and prehensile trees. There will be giant spiders too, and Dwellers near the centre who will want to sacrifice any stranger to their God. It is best to avoid the place if possible. But the Management usually insists on sending you there.

ALLEYS are the most frequent type of road in a city or town. They are always narrow and dark and squishy, and they frequently dead-end. You will escape along them when pursued and also be ambushed there.

MAYOR. The head of the town council and usually a bumbling idiot. Quite often he is a minion of the Dark Lord, but only a minor one. Keep out of his way.

So while I work on this presentation, here’s a Whole30 recipe that’s actually good.

You heard me. This diet does actually have some yummy meals that DON’T require expensive fare found only in health food stores. Many of these ingredients are probably in your pantry already. Give this one a go, and let me know how you like it!

(PS: If you need help with the clarified butter, I can ask Bo how he does it. It’s actually not that hard of a process.)

Banger Sausage Patties with Sweet Potato Mash and Caramelized Onions

 

From The Whole30: The 30-Day Guide to Total Health and Food Freedom. Serves 2

Prep Time: 25 minutes
Cook Time: 25 minutes
Total Time: 50 minutes

For the Sausagewhole30 recipe

1 pound ground pork
¼ teaspoon ground sage
¼ teaspoon garlic powder
¼ teaspoon dried thyme
¼ teaspoon onion powder
¹⁄8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
¹⁄8 teaspoon nutmeg
1 teaspoon salt
¹⁄8 teaspoon black pepper
Grated zest of 1 lemon

For the Mash

2 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into large dice
4 tablespoon ghee or clarified butter
½ cup full-fat coconut milk
1 onion, thinly sliced
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon black pepper

PREHEAT the oven to 350°F. Bring 4 cups water to a boil in a medium pot over medium-high heat. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

PREPARE THE SAUSAGE: In a large mixing bowl, mix all the sausage ingredients. Form into 8 equal patties. Place on a plate and chill in the freezer for 10 to 15 minutes while starting the sweet potato mash.

COOK the sweet potatoes in the boiling water until fork tender, 10 to 15 minutes. Drain and return the potatoes to the pot. Add 1 tablespoon of the ghee and coconut milk. Using a potato masher, immersion blender, or large kitchen fork, mash and mix the sweet potatoes with the ghee and coconut milk. Cover the pot to keep warm and set aside.

REMOVE the sausage from the freezer and place on the parchment paper–lined baking sheet. Bake the sausage patties in the oven for 12 to 15 minutes, until the internal temperature reaches 145°F, and no pink remains in the middle of the patty.

MEANWHILE, heat the remaining 3 tablespoons of ghee in a large skillet over medium heat, swirling to coat the bottom of the pan. When the ghee is hot, add the onion and cook for 15 minutes, turning them periodically as they begin to brown and caramelize. (Do not rush this step—the browner the color, the more concentrated the flavor will be.)

TRANSFER the mashed sweet potatoes to a bowl or serving dish and top with the caramelized onions. Season with salt and pepper and stir to combine. Serve with the sausage patties.

~*~*~*~

While I try to sound like I know what I’m talking about, how about having a go at my novel? It’s full of, you know, smartness! Full of fun, at least…and some nasty monsters and lots of battles and the occasional quiet moment where trauma’s faced and a girl plays piano to find peace in a strange, strange land.

If that sounds like a fun weekend read to you, then you can snatch it up for less than a buck! If you like what you read, please let me know in a review. Those book reviews on Amazon can mean life or death for the indie author!

Click here for more!

Free Fiction Has Come from the Wilds (2)

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!

JeanLee-nameLogoBoxed