I know, “suppers” is really not used too much anymore, but doesn’t it sound like it makes the meal in the evening much more informal. You can just imagine, friends and family gathered around the table, passing plates of rolls, bowls of mashed potatoes and platters of fried chicken or roast. Supper is a Southern term which interpreted should just mean, “comfort food being enjoyed by folks which enjoy being together”. After finally getting moved into our new “digs” (there, I used a term which sounds a little more current and hip) my cooking magazines have started to arrive. Because we were traveling for a couple of months after moving from Texas, I let my subscriptions expire until I had a permanent address. Just yesterday we are the proud owners of our new Arizona license plates which adorn our new car. We feel much more Arizonian now. Am still dreading going to get our DL, which means that we will have to take a eye test and just don’t know if I’m quite ready for that yet. Am eating lots of carrots before that time, hoping that I do, in fact, past the eye test. OK, back to the supper that I want to post this afternoon. When I saw this recipe, I printed it up so we could buy the ingredients and make it this week.
Parmesan Chicken Casserole
6 boneless chicken breasts, diced
1 cup may or plain Greek yogurt
1 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
1 teas Lawrys seasoned salt
1/2 teas ground black pepper
1 teas garlic powder
Instructions
Placee diced chicken into a greased 9×13″ baking dish
In a small bowl, combine the mayo/yogurt, 3/4 cup parmesan cheese, salt, pepper and garlic powder.
Spread evenly over chicken
Sprinkle remaining 1/4 cup parmesan cheese on top of may mixture.
Place dish in preheated 375 oven and bake for about 30 minutes. Remove from oven and serve chicken over pasta!

Oliver has taken over our lives. We tip toe around when he is sleeping, just like I did when I had babies (well, real human babies) as to not wake him up. We know the minute he wakes up we are expected to play “fetch” or he follows so closely behind us or beside us that both of us have tripped, trying to avoid a squashed dog. Forty-two years ago, I remember being so proud that I could actually bathe my newborn by myself, without asking anyone for help. It felt good to think of myself as a confident, competent new mom. It takes 2 of us to bathe this precious little 4 month old 3 lb dog. He wiggles and squirms and constantly tries jumping our of the bathtub, so one of us holds him (that is me since Randy is still one-armed) and the other washes him. An hour later, Oliver is clean, with freshly blow dried hair and finally asleep. So we are back to tip-toeing around. We have even resorted to always having background music when the tv isn’t on, hoping that will soothe Oliver and allow us to walk around without waking him up.