All Hail Brian

The winner of the cookbook is……..VEE JACKSON!! Expect an email! (bonus points if your address is a brothel)

I haven’t been able to truly work out in weeks. My knee. My kids. My sick. I am truly thisclose to losing my damn mind. The closest thing I can liken it to, for people who don’t have the crazy beast living in their head, it’s like you’ve been standing too long, with your legs locked, and the edges of your vision blur, and spots start dancing before your eyes. You can feel the blackness creeping in. You’re just waiting for it to come to your house like the anti-Santa.

I am at the point where I don’t even feel like I look like myself anymore because I’ve lost so much muscle mass. I lie in bed at night, wondering if tomorrow will be the day where I simply cannot pull myself from the brink, and my world–goes dark.

I try not to burden anyone with it. So I talk about it here, and pour it out into writing. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t. I don’t like to talk about how I feel betrayed by my stupid body and its unforgivable knee. I feel like a fucking asshole when I realize just how much worse I could have it. My medical bills are well-in-hand, and I can still work. Professors can sit. Actors can take breaks. I’m not a soldier who has lost their leg to an IED and has to wait too effing long to get the help they need. The ones who never get to go back and do what they love. The ones so often neglected by the country for which they fought.

Somehow I’ve been lucky enough this time, to simply remain living on the fringes of depression without black-holing it…yet. Maybe it’s because my kids brought home the plague and I’ve been so concerned with their care that I can’t concentrate on my own anger. Maybe it’s because I’ve made 948739486739 batches of brownies. Maybe it’s because of the man. He’s so awesome I can’t even tell you. He doesn’t hesitate to help to do things I normally do, or to just take the kids away for a bit. He tells me to go get a pedi and a massage. He brings beer home. (way better than flowers) He turns on Monty Python at just the right intervals.

Never underestimate the power of the beer and monty python combo. Just don’t call him Brian.

And now for something completely different.

Gingerbread Pancakes with Pumpkin Yogurt

(I put chocolate chips on top because I effing can)


gingerbread pancakes with pumpkin yogurt

Gingerbread Pancakes with Pumpkin Yogurt

by Cat Bowen

Prep Time: 5 minutes

Cook Time: 10 minutes

Keywords: grill

Ingredients (10 pancakes)

  • 1 cup whole wheat flour
  • 1/2 cup rolled oats
  • 1 egg or 1 flax egg
  • 6 oz vanilla yogurt (soy or cow)
  • 3/4 cup vanilla coconut milk
  • 2 tbsp molasses
  • 1 tsp ground ginger
  • 1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
  • 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
  • 1 tsp baking soda

for the pumpkin yogurt

  • 6 oz vanilla yogurt
  • 1/2 cup pumpkin puree
  • 1 tsp cinnamon
  • 1/4 cup maple syrup


whisk together all wet ingredients until smooth

sift in flour and spices

stir in baking soda and oat

pour onto greased griddle heated to medium in 1/3 cup scoops

when bubbles pop on the surface, flip

cook until puffy and spongy

for the pumpkin yogurt

stir together all ingredients

spoon onto pancakes

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One Response to All Hail Brian

  1. Keeping the demons at bay takes work and exercise. At least for me because that’s my outlet for everything. I hope you can get back into your groove soon. In the meantime, beer and Monty Python seem like a suitable substitute.

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