An Update of Paprika, Pepperplate and other Cookbook-Recipe Apps

Once upon a time I was trying to find a recipe I knew my grandmother had sent me in an email. I thought I'd saved it in a Pages doc somewhere, or maybe it was still in Gmail, or on an archive disk. Or maybe ... As I dug through my computer files, I realized I had at least a dozen folders of bookmarks with Must Try or Recommended recipes, eats I never remembered when I was doing my bi-monthly meal planning. I needed a way to keep my cyber-recipes organized and all in one place. Obviously my Pages doc wasn't working for me anymore. So off to Google I went, in search of anything that could help me organize this culinary mess.

One of my new favorites: Cauliflower Pizza Crust!

About the same time I got my first tablet, a little Android thing for Mother's Day that broke in the first few weeks. But I discovered Pepperplate had an app as well as online recipe box. I set it up, and continued to use it with my inherited-from-my-son first gen iPad, and then with my current iPad Mini. I had to do most of my organizing via my MacBook Pro, however, for the simple reason that Pepperplate's app doesn't allow you to add recipes. An annoyance I could work around, although it slowly grew more and more annoying. If only they'd make a few changes to the app! But Pepperplate hadn't had an update for their app in a long time, if ever, and the service is free. Would it disappear from cyberspace, taking all my recipes with it? What other options did I have? So I did what any OCD pregnant lady would do, and started looking.

Some of the main players I discovered are Yummly, Allrecipes, Evernote Food (or something like that - I'm not into the whole Evernote world), BigOven, Pepperplate and Paprika. I have specific needs and wants for a recipe organizer, so while I downloaded Allrecipes and Yummly, I didn't really play with them very much. They don't meet the minimum requirements of: Must be able to add my own recipes/edit the recipes I keep, Must have a meal-planning feature, Must be available offline because, believe it or not, I'm not always connected to the internet. I actually really liked Yummly and Allrecipes for finding new meals, so I'll probably keep them around, but they won't be my go-to apps for cooking or meal planning (and I could just as easily browse their websites so when my iPad is full, they'll go bye-bye).

I posted earlier, my initial thoughts. Now my update: I am still using Paprika, have not looked at Pepeprplate once and deleted the rest off my devices! Paprika wins!

Just when you think it will never happen...

Safe to mail?

It does! Like what my husband says his parents said when he was a kid (follow that?) - when he was waiting for the pizza to come and he didn't think he could take it one. more. second... That's when the server showed up with the steaming ooey-gooey pan of cheesy deliciousness.

In my experience, the pizza shows when I go to the bathroom. So I always miss the first slice, but whatever, it still comes!

To find out what, check here!

Ten Years of Thanks

Grandma and the boys

June 25, 2005

We are waiting for you. Not patiently, even though you were due just a few days ago. Your grandparents come from out of town to take your big brothers out for malts and to the park, and to meet you. You have other plans.

Daddy and Grandpa install new air conditioners while I sit poolside at the hotel and watch your brothers swim. You kick and roll. You are swimming, too.

Our midwife at a home visit 

June 27

"Girls bake longer," the midwife says and smiles.

Daddy and I exchange a glance. We have no pink in your layette, not after two boys, but deep in some secret place, I know we should.

June 29

Thunderstorm and we lose power. The temperature indoors soars with the blessed air conditioner stagnant. "Can we birth with no power?" We worry. Will you pick tonight to come, in the dark?

We call the midwife, fluttery, impatient. "A birth by candlelight! How lovely - I do it all the time."

At ease, we wait. Soon?

No, not yet, you say. Power restores at midnight.

Watch out!

July 2

Too hot to sit, too sore to stand.

Achey, testy.

When will we meet you?

4:00pm ~ What is this? A dull ache, hardly unusual, but intermittent and regular.

"Is it time?" Daddy asks.

"I don't know," I say. "I don't think so."

6:00pm ~ We go out for dinner, Russ' Restaurant and I eat something - I don't remember now. Eight minutes between trips to the restroom. "Bladder the size of a pea," I joke and think nothing more.

"Are you in labor?" your grandmother asks.

I laugh. You are nearly two weeks late - I have resigned myself to being expectant forever.

8:00pm ~ Your brothers are tucked in their beds. "Should we call the midwife?" Daddy asks. I shrug. I feel a gentle tightening, not at all like your brothers. "Maybe."

10:00pm ~ "I think this is the night," I tell the midwife. "I'm not sure, though."

She ignores my hesitation. "Shall I come now? You know you labor fast."

I pause, a contraction. "No, these are so slight."

"Well ..."

11:00pm ~ "Shouldn't the midwife come soon?" Daddy asks.

I laugh at him. "Am I even in labor?"

11:30pm ~ Something changes. Subtle, like a gentle shift from a major to a minor key. "You should call the midwife," I say. "No great rush."

11:45pm ~ "Could you ... gasp ... call ... and tell her ... to get here ... NOW?"

July 3, 12:00am

Your midwife arrives at the door and takes one look at me. She sends Daddy out for the stool. Your brothers sleep soundly upstairs. "Let's have this baby!" she whispers.

12:42am ~ We meet you - tiny, pink and only blue to dress you in.



Your brothers sleep through it all, but I will never forget later that morning; Daddy brings them downstairs and whispers in their ears, "You have a baby sister!"

Never before and never since have I seen their eyes light with such wonder. And even now, two years from that day, you are still filling us with wonder. For God's abundant grace which sustained you those floating months, for each smile, each word, each step, we are grateful.

Happy birthday to you!

Sweet perfection

I first wrote this post when you were two. And now you are ten. I'm even more grateful for you today, my beautiful intelligent kind thoughtful amazing and in every way a part of my heart, Mud Pie. I love you.

Still sweet perfection!

I've done it again!

Remember that tantalizing bit of good news? It's now official! Another picture book, this one picked up by lovely wonderful amazing Jill Davis (Auntie Jill to Maggie and Penny) at Katherine Tegen Books, HarperCollins. The announcement went out today. Hip-hip-hooray! Check out who will do the illustrations here!

Very Special Mail Day

Long gone are the days of paper submissions and eager trips to the mailbox. It's electronic everything: Google docs, Dropbox. Except a few things require the good ole mail. Like advance checks!

Yes, the second half has arrived, which means ... Find out here!

MacBooks are so awesome, even babies can use them.

How to Fix those Horrid Bratz Dolls - Finally!

Mud Pie is a doll girl. She has Barbies and an American Girl Doll, but I've cringed every time we've seen any sort of made-up-to-absurdity doll, like Bratz. This woman has a brilliant fix! I happen to know from experience that doll faces can and do come off with nail polish remover. I had a creepy faceless Barbie for years (she wore a veil). I remember trying to draw her face back on, but it never looked right. Maybe it's time to try again. I'll be sure to post if I do.

The Joy of Robots - Or What Happens When Some Slimy Poo-Head Steals Your Name AND Posts!!!

A few weeks ago I did some digital housekeeping. I switched from GoDaddy to Hover, went from Blogger (set up as a website) to Squarespace, and had to decide: what to do with my blog? This little place with all its beautiful randomness? I didn't want to roll it into my website because, really, it's so random. But I didn't want to lose it either. So I did what any indecisive, foolishly trusting individual would do. I went to that little "settings" tab in Blogger and changed the address of my blog.

"I'll be a little more anonymous!" I'd still have my 'News' section for writing-related things on my website, but here I decided I would post to my heart's content without worrying that my son's school chum would find all the juicy details of his childhood, or my homeschool friends would realize I - gasp - cuss like a sailor, drink wine, and believe in ghosts (maybe). And my left-wing writer friends won't know I've - double-heart-attack-gasp - voted Republican. More than once and not by accident! I felt so free! I could sing, I could dance, I could-- Ok, never mind.

I switched the address, and a few minutes later checked to see what the 404-Page not found page looked like. I typed in my old address and saw, "This blog has no posts." It seemed weird at the time. Like, What blog? There shouldn't be ANY blog there because I had just not five minutes earlier owned that little square of internet real estate. I didn't think much more about it for another week.

Fast forward that week. I noticed something annoying: my page views had plummeted. POOP! I guess I needed to re-think this switch. So I decided, oh so decisively, to go back to my original address (I mean, it's my NAME for heaven's sake, it's not like Nike or TasteTheRainbow or anything anyone else would want). I typed it in and got the error message: This Subdomain is Unavailable.

What? WHAT? My own name is unavailable? In the course of one week another person with my exact name took my blogger subdomain? So I typed in my old address and my stomach dropped into my socks. My. Own. Posts, interspersed with spam-like affiliate links.

Yes, my friends, someone trolled my blog archives and STOLE my content. Like this post from June 4, 2007:

I've had trouble stringing two thoughts together lately, largely because we're planning to list our house soon. I've spent far too much time scouring MLS listings and wondering why the hell everyone can't just be like me. Who would ever call a 6'x8' closet a fourth bedroom? I have rugs larger than that. 

And this one from May 23 of the same year which I had DELETED off my blog because it was a book review that I felt later was a little too snarky. I had to find it on the internet archive. Here's a screenshot:

Did this spammer-thief-moron think I wouldn't notice?!? Wouldn't report them to Blogger using every report-link possible? Wouldn't post about it? Yeah, bub, look forward to having your blogger privileges revoked and your cyber ass kicked from here to Sunday.

Yeah, well. I feel a new sympathy for those who suffer identity theft. I mean, if I'm this upset and feel even slightly violated for having my name and a few posts stolen so someone with WAY too much time on his/her hands can earn a few bucks with affiliate links, I can only begin to imagine the helpless rage someone would feel if their name, bank accounts, finances, even reputation were lifted and/or ruined. Hopefully Blogger will remedy it soon, and Google will learn to forget that old blog address. On the plus side, I'm having fun playing with the Wayback Machine. I guess everything we post really does have eternal life - on the internet.