Postscript to Ida’s oatmeal rocks
Ida’s oatmeal rocks earned me a nickname.
I asked the Intrepid One to read my blog post. He didn’t comment on the recipe or references to his family; he didn’t comment on the display of his photo. He commented on his nickname.
“If I have to have a nickname, you should, too.”
Hmm, fair enough. Now I think nicknames are hard to come by, but the IO had one at the ready:
“You should call yourself the Cruncher because 
when you eat potato chips, the noise is several decibels louder than anyone else eating them. It can be heard for miles.”
That wasn’t news to me; he’s told me so for years. But I was surprised that he came up with a nickname on the spot. You know what? I like it, and I may use it on this blog from time to time.
Cheers!
Janet Cleaveland
What happens when a retired journalist spends a lot more time in the kitchen than in past years? She tries new dishes and jumps at the chance to write a blog about food, family and good times. My kids are grown now, but I'll be looking back at how they learned to cook, what recipes my husband (the Intrepid One) and I are experimenting with, and how food and conversation make for happy times in the kitchen. I worked for The Columbian for 15 years as a copy editor and another 10 elsewhere, though I didn't start out as a journalist. I thought I wanted to teach English literature. My husband grew up in Clark County, and I've lived here since 1983. My kids have grown and left home. Like my husband of 52 years, our adopted chocolate Lab would never pass up a chance for a tasty meal.