CREAMY POTATO & HAMBURGER SOUP

A great instant pot recipe, but would also work well in a dutch oven.

Ingredients:

1 1/2 pounds lean ground beef
1 cooking onion_¹, diced
3 large cloves of garlic, finely chopped
6 cups of chicken broth
6 cups of peeled and diced Russet potatoes
2 cups of mixed vegetables
3 teaspoons dried basil
2 teaspoons dried parsley flakes
1 1/2 cups milk or cream
2 tablespoons cornstarch
8 ounces of cubed Velveeta cheese

Saute the ground beef and onion in your instant pot or dutch oven. Once browned add the garlic, basil, and parsley and saute for one minute.

Once done add the chicken broth, potatoes, and mixed vegetables and slow cook 3 – 4 hours.

Mix the cornstarch with the milk and add this along with the Velveeta cheese. Stir until melted. Salt to taste.

Reflections on Coming Out Day

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It’s Wednesday, so I suppose happy hump day.

Monday

Monday was National Coming Out day, and the one year anniversary of my coming out at work which also made it the one year anniversary of me being completely out of the closet.

The closet was particularly hard. I hated the closet. Every day I had to spend in there after starting my transition was a misery. Each day felt like a personal defeat. For a while I’d wondered if I’d ever get the courage to come out or if I’d eventually out myself through accident.

But I did it. And while it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done it is also one of the proudest things I’ve ever done. One year ago, I stood up before everyone on my shift at second ergo on a Sunday, and told everyone there that I am transgender. That took strength.

Up to that moment I had poured so much dread, anxiety, and fear into the anticipation of this act that it kind of took on a gravity of it’s own. It was a giant pit I threw all of this worry in to. I fed it daily with all of the horror of what might happen. How bad could this go. I carried that weight in my heart for 20 months. And, to my amazement, as I stood there and said the words I’d been practicing for months I felt the weight catch in my throat; and then it dropped. It was gone. I shed all of that fear and worry and anxiety and replaced it with a feeling of pure elation.

I was out! Finally out. Beautifully out. I was free.

I carried that weight for 20 months, let it go at a second ergo on a Sunday, and never concerned myself with it again. It was amazing!

And I had spent so much time worrying about the things that could go horribly wrong; how bad things could be I never stopped to consider how gloriously right it could go.

My coworkers have been amazing. Everyone on my shift uses my name and pronouns. They make the effort. I honestly did not anticipate that. I truly believed I’d say my peace and then just be free to be myself regardless of how others treated me but I don’t think I expected to be treated with respect. I have to admit I’m ashamed I didn’t give them the credit.

My coming out at work went well, and for that I am enormously blessed.

I made a post on facebook about it on Monday night. It was an important moment for me and I thought I’d celebrate it and maybe a couple of my coworkers who are friends with me there would like it and then everyone would quickly move on from the day back to the more mundane tasks at hand.

Tuesday

But then last night, at work, a coworker surprised me with a card to congratulate me on my anniversary. And we aren’t even friends on Facebook so I know he didn’t see the post. Apparently he was planning to get me a card for months, knowing the anniversary was coming up. And my Supervisor also wished me a happy anniversary.

I was dumbfounded, to say the least. I can’t believe they actually remembered, and that was so sweet. I can’t say enough how much that meant to me.

Two other coworkers of mine also congratulated me on one year out last night. I am absolutely touched. I had started the day off feeling low and this lifted my spirits immediately.

Wednesday

So Happy Coming Out day to every queer person out there. And I’m particularly mindful on this holiday about those who are still in the closet. Those who aren’t ready yet.

My heart goes out to each of you. I love you all so much, even though we’ve never met. I know how hard that closet can be, and my heart will sing a song for you until you find the strength! Happy Coming Out Day, especially if you haven’t come out yet.

Guess I should start

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I remember seeing a post on Facebook a couple months back from some twitter sage. If I wasn’t lazy right now I might even hunt it down and put a screenshot of the tweet below.

It said “That thing I’ve been putting off two months took me 12 minutes” or something. I’m probably paraphrasing.

And I sure do feel that. I’ve been meaning to set up two blogs for ages now. Or more like 23 months. That’s how long I’ve been at this…. change.

And so here’s the one. It took a bit longer than 12 minutes but I did it in an evening, more or less. I don’t care for the theme, but it’s not important yet. I’ll find a good one in my own time.

So I guess I should start. I am Josie. Normally that would be short for Josephine, but in my case it’s short for Joslynn. That’s me.

I was born in ’82 and if you wish to know my age I’ll let you do the math. I am a woman. I am the parent of 3 children. I am a grandparent. And I happen to be transgender.

I have been transitioning for 23 months. I used to have a lot of websites before. I used to be a programmer and putting stuff like this together was my job. I hated it.

It used to be fun, once, but you get to a point where you lose that passion. Every once in a while, though, I’d get that itch to put together another blog. One where I’d actually take the time to post, rather than just put it together and then let it sit and rot.

That was always a problem for me. I’d want a blog cause I’d feel like I had so much to say, but then I’d never write. I never knew what to write about, or what to say, and when I did want to write something I never did because I’d always want to make it perfect. Make it poetic. And every idea I wrote about had to be a big idea.

If I was going to write, I had to write for some fictional audience I conjured out of mist and I had to put on my act for them. I had to be amazing. An amazing writer with amazing writing where every idea was so important, so big, conveyed so eloquently, with perfect prose and perfectly poetic. I never ended up writing anything in my other blogs because I could never find out how to polish my own bullshit. I’d just put them together and then they’d sit.

And there lies the heart of me. My entire life, up to 23 months ago, was an elaborate act. Me up on my bullshit.

When I first started trying to transition, I went to a therapist at Evan, or Evangelical Hospital if you want to know the proper name. I’ll call the therapist Dr Pepper. During one of the two sessions I had with him I was talking about coming out, and my plans for how to do so and I remember at the time a part of me wanted the very worst to happen. I said “my life may explode from this, and if it does, I hope it explodes magnificently.”

Dr Pepper seemed to like that. Exploding magnificently.

As I’ve been transitioning I’ve learned to let a lot of my former hang-ups go. Or at least I’m trying to let them go. Working on climbing down off of my bullshit. And hopefully this time will be different. Cause I don’t give a fuck about an audience right now. And because I don’t have to write in this blog. It’s not a task I feel I should be doing but pushing away and so I never need to try to find a way to come back to it. To have some grand post saying I’m back with huge ideas.

This blog is here for me to write when I want to. And the only audience I’m writing for is me. I’m going to try and climb down from my bullshit. I’m trying not to be fake anymore. This is just me. This is my blog. And I can be poetic if I want to. Or not. This is my life, exploding magnificently.