In my house we eat bologna. Sometimes we eat it between two slices of white bread smothered in miracle whip. Sometimes we fry it up, roll it up, and stuff it our mouths as we run out the door. Bologna is nasty. It’s not good for you, it smells, and God only knows what it’s really made of. But, it’s cheap, it keeps in the fridge for a long time, and its always there when you seem to have nothing else. There is this ongoing joke that my mama can fry bologna one hundred different ways. The truth is, that she has to. When bologna is the only thing you have to cook, bologna is what you cook. This is the same for life. You use what you have and you turn it into something. It might not always be good, sometimes it’s boring and flavorless, but you have it. And for that you should be grateful.
That is what this blog is about. It’s about using the hand you were dealt to play the best game possible. I want to use my writing skills, and my mother’s experience to teach and inform the women of the world, how to make due with what we have.