As I sit here and type I wonder how many of you who are reading this have ever had a chance to swim in the Pacific Ocean? I grew up fairly close to the mighty Pacific in Southern California, and I swam in it as often as I could. I learned to swim when I was five years old and I’ve always been irresistibly drawn to the water. Even when I was barely nine years old I would run into the breaking waves of the Pacific and swim way out into the deep water until the people on the beach looked like colored dots. I would hold my breath and then dive down as deep as my lungs would allow, to try to touch the bottom, and when I couldn’t reach it, I knew I was far out. When I could barely see my father’s arm waving at me on the shore, I would reluctantly turn and make the swim back to land.

The Pacific Ocean is the largest ocean. It covers almost 34% of the earth.

The Pacific Ocean

Scientists know a lot more about it now than they ever have; yet they’re certain there are still many undiscovered species of plants and animals in the Pacific. It’s so vast and so deep, it’s probable that we’ll never know all the secrets it contains.

Here’s one example. Just a few years ago a previously unknown creature was discovered in the South Pacific, about a mile and a half deep on the ocean floor. The newly named and classified Yeti crab is blind, and lives near hydrothermal vents on the ocean floor.

Yeti crab

Last year a speaker at my church named Sy Rogers touched on the hugeness of the ocean to illustrate a point about God, and I’ve pondered some of his ideas since then. Some of what I’m writing here stemmed from his message.

When I went to the beach as a little girl, and threw off my towel and dove headlong into the waves, I could immediately ascertain two things about the character of the Pacific ocean: it was salty, and it was wet. I didn’t know that it was 11,000 feet deep in places and had massive underwater mountain ranges, or that it supported thousands and thousands of different species of plants and marine creatures, and that even in the year 2009, many previously undiscovered and bizarre fish would be found and named.  The years to come will almost certainly bring new discoveries about the mysterious Pacific, but no one will ever know all there is to know about it.

God is like that too. We all know that God is so huge and so great that His depth and his ways cannot be fully fathomed.  As finite beings we cannot possibly know all there is to know about our infinite God, but the things He wants us to know about Himself are all recorded and preserved in the Bible. It’s one reason why I attend Community Bible Study year after year. I want to know all I can about the God who loves me.

A dip in the massive Pacific Ocean may not reveal all its mysteries and treasures to me, but there are some things I can know about it. It’s salty, and it’s wet. The Pacific may be other things I don’t understand, but what I do understand is that it’s salty and wet — always.

And I believe there are some fundamental things we can know about God too, and when dark times overshadow our lives we can cling to these basic but very real things we know about His character. Among the myriad facets of God’s character, we can know and trust that He is good and loving, and that He is powerful. God may be other things I don’t understand, but what I can understand is that He’s good and powerful.  Always.

These past few years have been some of the hardest I’ve known. I’ve wept at the death of many cherished and hopeful dreams. My family has gone through one heartbreak after another, and yet I know we’ve been very blessed too. There have been many dark times when I have cried out “where are you Lord?…when will you do something here?” and pleaded for His intervention, only to have things seemingly grow worse. And the longer the darkness lasts, the more of a mess I think I become.

But I am heartened by some of the other people who were real messes in the Bible.

Jacob was a mess – he couldn’t seem to stop deceiving people – even those he loved.

Jacob deceiving Isaac

Yet God didn’t give up on him and truly changed him.

King David made a mess of his life too. This man after God’s own heart who wrote so many of the Psalms lusted after another man’s wife, committed adultery, and then murder.

David looking upon Bathsheba

God allowed David to experience terrible consequences, but He never left him and he never gave up on him. How thankful I am that God never gives up on us, no matter how horrific our messes.

Mary Magdalene was a total mess if there ever was one. She was messed up on the outside and the inside.

Donatello's Mary Magdalene

She was possessed by seven demons, and if it weren’t for Christ’s love and absolute power over all of creation, she would never have tasted freedom and been in her right mind.

The Samaritan woman at the well had certainly made a huge mess of her life. She had tried to fill the emptiness in her life by trying to find the right husband to make her happy. After the fifth, she gave up and just shacked up with man number six.

Jesus and the Samaritan woman by the well

Then one day she met Jesus and within one afternoon He began to clean up her messy life. He dealt with her mess in such a way that her dignity was restored and she confidently ran to tell the town people who had shunned her all about the man “who told her everything she ever did.”

How about Lazarus? Talk about a stinking mess.

Rembrandt's painting of the raising of Lazarus

His mess may not have been sin-related, but Jesus called out in stunning power to that decaying mess in the tomb and healthy life returned.

So if you ever feel like you’re a mess, whether just occasionally or for an extended period of time, you’re in good company. I’m so thankful that there isn’t a mess that Jesus doesn’t know how to deal with.

During some of these recent hard times, I think the Lord has been teaching me to simply keep relying on what I know about Him. And just like I know the Pacific Ocean is salty and wet, I know that my God is powerful and good.

How do I know God is good? I have experienced His goodness in my life. The Bible tells me He is good and I have found the Bible reliable and defensible. I know He’s good because He allowed His own Son to be executed for my selfish sins because of His wonderful love for me. I know He is good because I have seven precious grandchildren. 🙂

How do I know God is powerful? God Himself gives us a little glimpse of His power when he “answered” Job when Job wondered why he was being allowed to suffer so intensely:

From Job 38: “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Have you ever given orders to the morning or shown the dawn its place? Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea or walked in the recesses of the deep? What is the way to the place where the lightning is dispersed or the place where the east winds are scattered over the earth? Can you bind the beautiful Pleiades? Can you loose the cords of Orion? Can you bring forth the constellations in their seasons?  Does the hawk take flight by your wisdom…does the eagle soar at your command? Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct him?”

And Job, who had walked in obedience to God his whole life, humbly responded, “Surely I spoke of things I do not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.”

My favorite thing to ponder when I need to remember how powerful God is for my family’s needs, is the size of the universe. The most current estimates say that there are 100 to 200 billion galaxies in the universe, each of which has hundreds of billions of stars. A recent German supercomputer simulation put that number even higher: possibly 500 billion galaxies.

Think of that as you read Ephesians 4:10, which is speaking of Jesus: “He who descended is the very one who ascended higher than all the heavens, in order to fill the whole universe.”

Jesus fills the whole universe. He is powerful and huge, and He is good. He is the One who can clean up our lives and make something beautiful out of them. He is all-wise and knows just how long to let us be in the dark to build our faith and trust in Him, and to accomplish the work He’s doing for His mysterious purposes.

When I’m swimming in a vast, mysterious ocean, I may have no idea of the millions of treasures it holds. But I can still know that it’s salty and wet.

And when I’m fumbling around in the darkness of deep sorrow and loss, things so hard to understand, I can still know that God is good and God is powerful.

In fact, sometimes I think we just need to say what we know is true in the face of all the circumstances thrown our way that tempt us to doubt and despair. I used to think it was very sweet and quaint when an older woman would pat my hand and say, “God is good, dear” when she knew as well as I did that life can be really hard.

But now I see her statement a little differently. When we say “God is good” out loud in the midst of our trials, we’re declaring a powerful truth that our own ears need to hear. When we say, “God is able” out loud in the face of a problem so huge that we can’t possibly imagine it solved, we are reminding ourselves about the power of our God to deliver us and our loved ones, in His timing. These are not platitudes. These are two of the most beautiful attributes of God that we can lean on during hard times.

Did you say the prayer, “God is great, God is good, now we thank Him for our food” when you were little?

As simple as that little prayer sounds, there’s a truckload of wisdom there. God is great. He is able. He is powerful. Jesus fills the whole universe, yet is closer than our very breath. God is good. He can be trusted. He is faithful and true. Even in the dark.

After Job went through his horrible suffering and times of questioning, losing his possessions and his family and his health, God then chastised one of his friends, Eliphaz, and commended Job.

From Job chapter 42: “After the LORD said these things to Job, he said to Eliphaz the Temanite, ‘I am angry with you and your two friends, because you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has. So now take seven bulls and seven rams and go to my servant Job and sacrifice a burnt offering for yourselves. My servant Job will pray for you, and I will accept his prayer and not deal with you according to your folly. You have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has.’ So Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite did what the LORD told them, and the LORD accepted Job’s prayer.”

I believe God has cautioned me in the same way, even though I have never been afflicted like Job. In the midst of suffering and sadness we don’t understand, we can still speak rightly of God. It’s important to the LORD that we speak correctly of Him, that we ascribe to Him the characteristics that are really true. To speak wrongly of Him is folly.

To stand at the edge of the Mighty Pacific and scream “You’re not wet! You’re not salty!” is folly.

To accuse God of anything less than goodness and greatness in the midst of our own trials is foolishness also.

So the next time we’re tempted to lash out at God because our prayers are still going unanswered and the dawn hasn’t yet broken over our darkness, even in the silence of our own thoughts, let’s not do as Eliphaz did and speak wrongly of God. God can handle it and He will forgive if we do, but why engage in folly to add to our struggles?

Instead, we can say “God is good. God is great.”  When we’re weeping before Him quietly, we can whisper, “God you are good. You are great.” When driving in the car with our children or grandchildren, let them hear us say out loud, “God you are so loving and good! You are so great and mighty!”  When the next bad news comes and threatens to undo us, let us be the kind of children who announce to the demonic realm that seeks our ruin, “My Father God is so good. My Father God is so great.”

These are two things I know.

Something mysterious happened yesterday. Maybe those of you reading can come up with some plausible answers.

My husband Michael ran some errands with my son-in-law Chris. He then went out to lunch (at Coney Island, of all places!) with his lovely daughter Daphne from Red Wing, Minnesota, who was in town visiting her son Jordan, who’s a student at UMD. Then Michael, Daphne and Jordan went to take a peek at Sharon’s new yarn studio downtown. Then they all said their goodbyes and Michael came home.

Michael needs to take an occasional nap because of his PD, and he did that as soon as he came back. Like he always does, he laid down on top of the black and white toile comforter on our bed, and then forty-five minutes later was awake, refreshed and starting on another project.

I went upstairs to fold some laundry on our bed right after he got up, and I noticed a small something on the covers, on his side of the bed, right where his middle back would have been laying while he slept.

This is what it was:

A small clove of garlic. With a bit of the paper still on. On the bed where my husband had just napped.

I went through all the possible explanations. He had not been in a restaurant where fresh garlic was hanging, and even if he had, why would one clove have stuck to the back of his knit shirt and come all the way home with him as he drove in his truck and then laid down to take a nap?

I had not cooked with garlic recently and besides, a stray clove of garlic has never before attached itself to me and ended upstairs on our bed.

There was clean laundry on part of the bed waiting to be folded, but why would a clove of garlic have been in the clean laundry and rolled to the side on which Michael sleeps? It had clearly not gone through the washer or dryer, since the clove was firm and intact and showed no evidence of being washed in the whites cycle and tumble dried for sixty-five minutes.

Our dogs don’t like garlic (we know all the things they love: carrots, broccoli, grapes, ice cubes, cucumbers, and very expensive dog food) so I don’t think Edith or Millie would have delicately picked up a clove with their teeth — if there had even been one on the kitchen floor — and deposited it on our bed upstairs.

The children in the house can’t reach where the garlic is stored in the kitchen, so they aren’t the culprits.

When I showed Michael what I found he looked at it blankly and had no answer as to why he laid on a clove of garlic while napping.

Vampires? Does someone suspect that we need protection?

So there you have it. Garlic on our bed. Under my husband while he took a nap.

There are brilliant minds out there reading this, I know there are. Any thoughts?

My daughter Sharon used to go to library when she was a little girl and check out the books by Heloise on household hints. She used to pronounce the author’s name “HELL-loyz,” instead of “hel-lou-EEZ,” and we had a few good chuckles over that. Years later, my friend Kathleen and I wrote a song for Sharon (“You’ll Always Be HELL-loys To Me!”) and performed it at her bridal shower. It was a great blessing to her that she still holds extremely dear to this day.

Anyway, today I’m thinking about household hints. I have a few hints myself on keeping house (even though I don’t use most of them), but I could always use new ones.

Here are a few household hints I would highly recommend:

1.  Do not let paperwork pile up in your office.

2.  Do not let the dogs come in the house after it rains without washing their feet in the sink.

3.  Do not let your house get messy.

4.  Do not just throw random things into kitchen drawers.

5.  Do not eat in your car.

6.  Do not cook meals.

If you follow all of the above invaluable household hints, you will definitely have time for pursuing your other interests rather than being a slave to your house.  🙂

Seriously, I will offer one household hint that can work pretty well, and then I would like you all to share a few of yours.

Household hint: get a laundry basket for every person in your house and write their name on it in small letters with a Sharpie. Keep that basket in their room and have them throw all their dirty laundry (towels included) into that basket. Assign a day of the week to do that person’s laundry. Do that person’s laundry on that day of the week. As soon as it’s washed and dried, fold that person’s laundry (unless you can coerce them to fold their own) and put it away as soon as you have folded it. I’m guessing that unless the person you’re doing laundry for is a city sewer worker or works on a Texas oilfield, you would have only one-two loads to do each day of the week. And if you don’t have seven people in your family, you would even have days when the washing machine and dryer are silent.

I haven’t always done this, but doing Foster care has helped me stick to this most of the time. It makes laundry seem manageable, and only doing one to two loads in the morning seems less daunting. There are exceptions to trying this, I know. We have family temporarily staying with us right now until they move into their lovely new house, so we all just use the washer and dryer whenever we can, which works for us. Also, if you are the Duggar family, my method would not work for you.

Now if I could only follow my own advice regarding paperwork.

What household hints do you have to share? What things do you do in your home that save time, help things run more smoothly, or give you a sense of calm and order?

Or if you have a question on how to do something more efficiently, ask your question and maybe some readers will have answers for you!

Serious and funny comments are welcome…

My daughter Sara went to New York recently with two friends, Jenna and Jill. They were able to attend Easter services at The Brooklyn Tabernacle. While in New York, they were in another church that had many of Ron DiCianni’s paintings hanging in the foyer. One of his works called “Divine Healing” really touched Sara, and she came home and told me about it.

I looked it up online and as I studied it, my eyes filled with tears. I found a video of the artist talking about this painting and he said he intentionally made the woman in the scene look more like a modern woman. She has a current hairstyle and clothing, and if you look closely you can see she’s wearing a watch and a cross necklace. The message is clearly that the mercy and power of Jesus was present for those who saw Him walk the earth, and it is present for those of us who walk in faith without seeing Him today.

From Luke, chapter eight:

⁴⁰Now when Jesus came back [to Galilee], the crowd received and welcomed Him gladly, for they were all waiting and looking for Him.

⁴¹And there came a man named Jairus, who had [for a long time] been a director of the synagogue; and falling at the feet of Jesus, he begged Him to come to his house,

⁴²For he had an only daughter, about twelve years of age, and she was dying. As [Jesus] went, the people pressed together around Him [almost suffocating Him].

⁴³And a woman who had suffered from a flow of blood for twelve years and had spent all her living upon physicians, and could not be healed by anyone,

⁴⁴Came up behind Him and touched the fringe of His garment, and immediately her flow of blood ceased.

⁴⁵And Jesus said, Who is it who touched Me? When all were denying it, Peter and those who were with him said, Master, the multitudes surround You and press You on every side!

⁴⁶But Jesus said, Someone did touch Me; for I perceived that [healing] power has gone forth from Me.

⁴⁷And when the woman saw that she had not escaped notice, she came up trembling, and, falling down before Him, she declared in the presence of all the people for what reason she had touched Him and how she had been instantly cured.

⁴⁸And He said to her, Daughter, your faith (your confidence and trust in Me) has made you well! Go (enter) into peace (untroubled, undisturbed well-being). The Amplified Bible

The rest of the story is that Jesus healed this desperate woman, then raised Jairus’s daughter from the dead that day as well.

Jesus brought hope and mercy to women who had been disdained or given up on by their society. Prostitutes, empty, immoral women, ceremonially unclean women, poor, neglected women, demon-possessed women, widows. He was scandalous in the way He took time with them, sat at the same dinner tables with them, elevated them and restored their dignity, respected them, healed them and gave them hope and power to follow Him and live differently.

We can’t see His face here in this picture, but just the sight of His sandaled feet makes me cry. “Heaven is His throne and the earth His footstool” (Isaiah 66:1) — in this painting, those feet are now pausing on the way to Jairus’s house, turning slightly to see who had touched His hem and why.

No one else could do a thing to help her. Money couldn’t buy what she needed. But when she reached for the hem of His garment, everything changed.

I may not have the same needs that woman had. My culture may not dismiss me as hers did. But I believe we all need things that only Jesus can give to us.

In faith, I am reaching for His hem today. What about you?

“Everywhere I have sought rest and not found it, except sitting in a corner by myself with a little book.”

Thomas à Kempis

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My friend Jessica, whose blog is linked on the home page of my blog, gave me a blog award recently, and with it comes seven directives. Here’s what I’m supposed to do:

1. Thank the person giving you this award. Thank you Jessica! I’m glad you read my blog and I love it when you leave comments. I also love to read yours, and think you should write more often.
2. Copy the award to your blog. Here’s the icon:
3. Place a link to their blog. Check Jessica’s blog out here. She’s a really good writer and she makes me laugh and think. I actually own an electric broom because of her blog.
   
4. Name 7 honest tidbits people don’t know about you from reading your blog. Oh dear. I think I’ve done this a few times before. But maybe you’re all like me, with minds like sieves, and don’t remember any of it.
   1) I count my claps when I’m in an audience and the applause starts.
   2) I would really like to live in a little cottage in the Highlands of Scotland.
   3) I cry at least once a day. It’s not something I plan, just usually something that happens.
   4) I used to be an avid scrapbooker (when I had time to myself years ago) and I actually had some of my work published in Memory Makers magazine.
   5) I consider a yummy snack a spoonful of peanut butter and grape jelly.
   6) I used to be deathly afraid to speak in front of an audience, with uncontrollable trembling, and now I’m not at all.
   7) I hate, no, I loathe, tuna.
   
5. Award 7 other bloggers. Some of my favorite bloggers are: My daughter Sharon at Three Irish Girls, my niece Savannah, John and Sandy Halvorsen’s account of their current prayer walk across Europe and Asia, Beth Moore’s blog, and I love the design photos at Holly Mathis Interiors. That isn’t seven, but maybe I’ll put some more on soon.
6. Place a link to those bloggers. Check.
   
7. Leave a comment letting those bloggers know about the award. Will do that soon, but I have a basement floor to mop with bleach water since I came home from SAGs last night to find a flood from the sewer having backed up. We had to call several companies before we found one to come out at 11:00 at night. Now that spring is upon us, there were tree roots growing in our lines. How many of you might guess that these kinds of services don’t do that kind of thing at that time of the night for just a few dollars?  🙂
   

Anyway, thank you for tagging me, Jessica. I read your blog every day.

What blogs do all of you read often? I would love to know. Feel free to leave their names and/or URLs in the comments too.

Blessings,

Once in a while I post a song here on the blog that’s meaningful to me. This is one of those songs. It’s on Amy Grant’s newest CD release called Somewhere Down the Road.

The song is called Better Than A Hallelujah and I keep playing it over and over because the lyrics are profound and so comforting to me these days. I hope you can take the time to read the lyrics (below) as you listen, and that the song blesses you in some way.

The song is sung by Amy, but written by Chapin Hartford and Sarah Hart.

God loves a lullaby in a mother’s tears in the dead of night
Better than a hallelujah sometimes
God loves a drunkard’s cry, the soldier’s plea not to let him die
Better than a hallelujah sometimes

We pour out our miseries, God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are, the honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a hallelujah

A woman holding on for life, a dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a hallelujah sometimes
Tears of shame for what’s been done
The silence when the words won’t come
Are better than a hallelujah sometimes

We pour out our miseries, God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are, the honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a hallelujah

Better than a church bell ringing, better than a choir singing out, singing out

We pour out our miseries, God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are, the honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a hallelujah

¹ The LORD is my light and my salvation—
whom shall I fear?
The LORD is the stronghold of my life—
of whom shall I be afraid?

² When evil men advance against me
to devour my flesh,
when my enemies and my foes attack me,
they will stumble and fall.

³ Though an army besiege me,
my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me,
even then will I be confident.

⁴ One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple.

⁵ For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock.

⁶ Then my head will be exalted
above the enemies who surround me;
at his tabernacle will I sacrifice with shouts of joy;
I will sing and make music to the LORD.

⁷ Hear my voice when I call, O LORD;
be merciful to me and answer me.

⁸ My heart says of you, “Seek his face!”
Your face, LORD, I will seek.

⁹ Do not hide your face from me,
do not turn your servant away in anger;
you have been my helper.
Do not reject me or forsake me,
O God my Savior.

¹⁰ Though my father and mother forsake me,
the LORD will receive me.

¹¹ Teach me your way, O LORD;
lead me in a straight path
because of my oppressors.

¹² Do not turn me over to the desire of my foes,
for false witnesses rise up against me,
breathing out violence.

¹³ I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the LORD
in the land of the living.

¹⁴ Wait for the LORD;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the LORD.

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The LORD is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Psalm 34:18

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I hope your Easter was a special day touched in some way by the love of friends, family, and God. Easter reminds me that with Jesus there’s always hope, no matter how occasionally hopeless things might seem. Not only did Jesus rise from the dead, but His resurrection power can bring other dead things to life. Dead hearts, dead relationships, dead people – nothing is too difficult for Him.

We went to church where we could hardly find a place to sit, so our family had to sit two here, three here, two here, etc. Then we came home and started the food preparation for our Easter dinner. Later on in the day the grandbabies had a good time searching the big yard for candy-filled eggs.

My son-in-law Chris was in charge of the ham. I’ve always been so ho-hum about ham (that sounds like the title of a book – Ho-hum About Ham) until I try the baked hams that Chris prepares. He rubs some stuff on the ham, puts it in the oven in a roaster for 90 minutes, and then it invariably turns out so scrumptious that I rave about how ham is my new favorite meat. Then in a few days I’m back to being ho-hum about ham, until the next time Chris makes a ham and I’ll be all wound up about it again.

My daughter Sharon made roasted fresh asparagus, which I had never eaten. I could have written an essay entitled Ambivalent About Asparagus, but after tasting this, I have changed my tune on a food once again. Sharon also made spring-like desserts: homemade lemon squares and made-from-scratch carrot cake, the latter of which I am enjoying while typing this blog post.

Sharon and her middle child Mrs. Nisky made their famous Nisky’s Biscuits as well. Nisky’s Biscuits have two ingredients, two, and they are the flakiest, tastiest biscuits ever. Have you ever made delicious biscuits with 1) Self-rising flour and 2) whipping cream? Neither have I. I will be making them soon, however, because Nisky’s Biscuits are easy and yummy.

I made my favorite salad, Panzanella, that’s the most wonderful salad I’ve ever tasted and that is no exaggeration. If you want to make something that everyone will rave about and will require you to have printed copies of the recipe nearby each time you serve it, go to the Food Network’s site and check out The Barefoot Contessa’s recipe for Panzanella.

I also made a staple that I’ve been making for at least twenty-six and a quarter years: Stuffed Baked Potatoes. Many of you probably make your own version of these, but I’ve been surprised lately to hear of enough people who’ve never made these, so I thought I’d share. Stuffed Baked Potatoes are easy and most people think they’re fancy and delectable. I make them at least twice a month – they’re a nice change from regular baked or mashed potatoes.

Sharon took the photos of my Easter journey through Stuffed Baked Potatoland, and I hope you’ll try them and let me know how they turned out for you.

You will need large baking potatoes, cheese (I used colbyjack but you could use cheddar, jack, pepper jack, whatever), blue cheese dressing, parmesan cheese, butter, green onions, and McCormick Salad Supreme.

First, bake your potatoes. I have two ovens, which comes in very handy on holidays. I baked my large baking potatoes in the smaller upper oven (you can see the pizza stone I store there) while the not-so-ho-hum ham was cooking in the larger oven below.

While your potatoes are baking, take some green onions and chop them up pretty fine. I used about 4-5 onions. One nice thing about this recipe is that you can just put in as much or as little of everything as you like. Experiment with the flavors and adjust as you go. You’ll see how I did that later. I use the green and the white of the green onions. Some people call them scallions but I never have. Maybe one of you can tell us why they’re called scallions – is it a regional thing? I don’t care as much for that name because it reminds me of the word scallywag, and the word scallywag reminds me of a certain person that I would prefer not to be reminded about when I’m making Stuffed Baked Potatoes.

This next part is important. Have all your ingredients ready in a bowl while your potatoes are baking, because it’s the heat of the baked potatoes that will cause everything to melt together nicely. Below you can see that I tossed in about two heaping cups of grated colbyjack cheese. We were feeding a lot of people on Easter.

Next, I added about 3/4 cup of blue cheese dressing and about 3/4 cup of Parmesan cheese. You could use less or more of either ingredient. I happen to love blue cheese dressing so I put in a lot. Maybe it was even closer to a cup of blue cheese dressing.

If you look closely now, you can see that the first potato is in there (I’ll get to that in a minute) and I also threw in about 3/4 of a stick of butter. This is Easter, so don’t worry about fat grams. You could worry about that the day after Easter. Oh wait – Easter is already past. Well, don’t worry about things anyway.

Now I just started to mash things together a little bit. My potatoes were done baking. I smooshed things around with the fork while my daughter took photos with her very nice camera that she uses on her very nice website for her very nice yarn business.

When the potatoes are done, I take them out one by one, hold them in an oven mitted hand, and gently cut them in half, taking care not to ruin my beautiful oven mitts.

I take a large spoon, and while cradling the hot potato in my mitt (please try not to notice the holes in my mitt) I gently scoop out the very hot potato innards.  I try not to ruin the skin, but sometimes it happens. See how there’s very little left of the innards? Then you can just set these forlorn looking skins on a baking sheet.

And they will look like this. Sort of like sad spudwaifs.

Because I have made this recipe hundreds of times, I can tell by looking if it’s what we’ll like. I could see after smooshing and mashing that for the number of people we were going to feed, we needed to add another handful of cheese. Just stir and mash with a fork until the hot potato innards have melted most of everything, and until you don’t have any clumps of unmashed potato left. If you do, that’s okay though. Potato clods never hurt anyone.

Now you can take your holey mitts off and start to fill the empty potato skins. The mixture will be cooled off enough to use your hands. Grab a few globs of cheesy goodness and press them into the potato skins.

Make sure you delicately lift your little finger as you do it, as a polite Englishwoman would do when sipping her afternoon tea. I’m not sure why this important, but just take my word for it.

When you have enough in a skin, it will look like this:

Not too much – just a little mound of the potato/cheese mixture will do.

You can find this product in the spices aisle at your grocery store. I’ve used it for years for just this one dish, and it adds color, great flavor and interest. It’s supposed to be for salads and pasta and I’ve never used it on either. Just on my Stuffed Baked Potatoes. (When McCormick comes out with a new product called McCormick Stuffed Baked Potato Topping, maybe then I’ll try it on my salads and pasta.)

Here are all the potato halves, stuffed with that delicious cheesy mixture, sprinkled conservatively with the Salad Supreme, and lined up ready to go back into the oven. If you lean to the left politically, then you could be a liberal sprinkler. For the most part I’m a conservative sprinkler.

I then bake them at about 375 or 400 degrees (I can’t remember which) until they get hot all the way through, maybe about fifteen minutes or so. Then about five minutes before I’m ready to serve my Stuffed Baked Potatoes, I turn on the broiler and begin to watch them carefully. I want them to get just a little bit darker and start to bubble. You could let them get browner than this if you like – just keep an eye on them.

Above, I took them out and thought they needed another two minutes under the broiler. Here’s the final result below:

And they are all gone.

These also freeze really well, reheat really well, taste good the next day for leftovers, and some people even like them packed in their lunches.

How do you fix your Stuffed Baked Potatoes?

Sharon and I were talking about all the variations that would be good with these – bacon bits, broccoli, rosemary, and a few other things I can’t remember now. What else would you add to your Stuffed Baked Potatoes?

Let me know if you try them.  Have a wonderful week…