One of the things I want to do, a little at a time, is capture the stories of my life… things beyond photographs and scrapbook pages.  Stories of our lives – you know, the stories that get passed down through the generations and are the ones you tell whenever the families get together.

I want to save them while they are fresh in my mind – save them for the girls to remember and for our grandkids and great-grands to have and enjoy one day, too.

I’ve started an 8.5×11 album (digital) that I’ll just jot down those stories in as I think of them. I’m not going to pressure myself into feeling like I have to have photographs on every page. It’s really about the story for this book, not the picture.

Here is my first page:

Stuffed Pepper Story

Here is the story:

When we were first married, I decided to be “Suzy Homemaker” one night and surprise Rob with some homemade stuffed bell peppers.  I called Mom and Grandma (multiple times) and worked for hours making the recipe.

We hadn’t been married very long and I hadn’t been cooking for very long, either. It was quite the undertaking and I was so proud of myself for taking on the challenge. I couldn’t wait for Rob to get home from work and eat the yummy dinner I’d prepared.

When he got home, he sat down to eat a plate.  I stood by waiting for his feedback…

And he quickly asked me if I’d cooked the rice.
WHAT!?!
Had I cooked the rice?!?
Of course I had.

Well, it turned out the rice was NOT finished, my feelings were VERY hurt and I grabbed his plate and the entire casserole dish and dumped it all in the garbage.

I ran upstairs crying and locked myself in our bedroom.

Poor Rob.
It was all right eventually, but, to this day, I’ve never made stuffed peppers again.

Which, Rob says, is perfectly fine with him.
I hope so.

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