Because my two sisters, Cathy, Nancy, and I are very close, we share many things: advice on the best hair cut to fit the shape of our face, which plants are the easiest to grow (even giving each other cuttings) and easy-to-cook recipes.

There are many other things we share, but recently each sister told me on separate occasions that when they go out of town for a few days, they prepare meals for their hubbies and freeze them.

Maybe they’ve told me this for thirty plus years and it just didn’t sink in, but I’ve never done that.

However, when I began making plans for an eight day trip to Nashville and Raleigh, I made similar plans for my family.

I decided that I too, could be Suzy Homemaker, and make sure Russell and Katie, (who’s temporarily living at home, finishing up nursing school in May) and Michael, Katie’s fiance, would have some delicious, easy-to-prepare meals.

 I had a couple of things already in the freezer, but shopped for what was still needed. I came home and chopped, sliced, diced, sauteed, stirred, whipped, refrigerated, layered and baked many, many dishes.

Then I froze it all in individual containers with easy-to-read directions.

I wanted to be sure all of my hard work paid off and that they ate well while I was away.

(In fact, as it turned out, I’ve never eaten better meals in my life than I did that week at the Gaylord Opryland Resort — dining on lobster rolls, prime rib, sushi, Mexican, barbecue, catfish and fried chicken. And yes, I felt a teeny-weeny bit guilty.)

But before I went away, I took out some sticky notes and labeled each container: “Home-made stuffed peppers. Thaw 1 hour and cook at 350 covered.”

(Geez, I forgot to say how long; but I figured they’d know when it was good and hot from the steam.)

For the Stouffer’s lasagna, I wrote on the note, “Read directions.”

Simple!

For the next one, I wrote, “Italian Sausage. Cook 350, covered in aluminum foil, 30-40 minutes.”

(I forgot to tell them to remove the aluminum foil the last 10 minutes so the sausage would brown.)

I labeled the next one “Home-made ham and vegetable soup. Thaw and heat.”

Finally, I labeled the last one “Home-made spaghetti sauce. Add noodles.”

I was so proud of ME! I’m usually not this organized, thoughtful or well-prepared, but I DID IT!

I told both of them before I left how simple it would be to eat at home while I was gone, enjoying healthy meals and also saving money.

The second night away I called and asked how they’d enjoyed their meals so far. Katie confessed: they hadn’t.

“Well, why not?” I asked. She informed me that the container labeled spaghetti was actually soup.

Uh-oh, really?

In the meantime, she had already cooked the noodles when she discovered the error.

So, as it turned out, Michael (who is a great chef, by the way) went out and bought the ingredients to make his own spaghetti sauce.

I’m sure they ate quite late, but no one complained to me about it.

And the soup ended up making a fine meal for Gus, their 70 lb., 3-year old pup.

Evidently, Russell and Katie gave up on my handy-dandy, easy-as-pie, self-directed meal plan (or so I THOUGHT it was all that) because after that one night, they either went out to dinner; or one occasion, Russell made himself peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

I’d like to think what really happened was they just missed having me in the kitchen, puttering about in my apron, doing the June Cleaver thing, “How was your day?” as I merrily set the table and gave everyone a huge smile.

But the truth is, I believe they were afraid to try anything else for fear of WHAT truly lurked inside the containers.

And to think Russell is always saying, “No good deed ever goes unpunished.” Now I know it’s true!

But, that’s actually fine with me because now I have almost a week’s worth of dinners to cook on a moment’s notice.

Can’t say I didn’t try!

To the one hundred and four Pinners that are following me on Pinterest, let me apologize. On the one hand, I’m flattered that you want to know what I like, but on the other hand, I haven’t posted anything. Why, do you ask?

Well, in order to answer that question, I first have to tell you what I DON’T like! And if you’re shaking your head after this, clueless, let me suggest you read between the lines! What I DON’T like is things I don’t understand! With no directions. Clearly confusing. That you have to be asked to join. And that take up too much space in your brain.

Oh, I KNOW what I like, but I can’t get it from my noggin’ to the computer. I like fried green tomatoes. I like little black dresses. I like Jonathan Green paintings. I like Easter. I like losing enough weight to bend over to cut and paint my own toenails (recently accomplished.) It might be easier to just list these things somewhere on my Web site than trying to “pin” them to Pinterest!

I first heard of Pinterest the night before we three best girlfriends and my sister, Nancy, left for a cruise in early December. Debbie got on my laptop and showed me her daughter, Blair’s, Pinterest page. “Everybody is doing this!” she exclaimed. I wanted to say, “Yeah, but if everyone was jumping off a cliff, would you?” (I think of that expression whenever I remember Granny Pinky’s stern lectures, which were often and emphatic!)

But since we girlfriends were at a point of deep relaxation in the hotel (read: post delicious dinner and even more delicious wine, hot showers, in our jammies), I didn’t give it much serious thought. Plus, as far as I was concerned, I was already humming, “Don’t worry, be happy!” envisioning the steel-drum band, the turquoise water and a Bahama Mama cocktail. Hey! There’s some more things that I like: vacations and Reggae music.

Well, just to make this column authentic because they ALL are—promise!—I tried to log in one more time to Pinterest—you know, kind of give it the benefit of the doubt. But oh no! It wouldn’t let me log on, so I tried logging on through Facebook (that was one of two choices.) After I logged on, it read “Building Feed.” How am I supposed to decipher that? It’s nothing in this world, honey, but blank gray-and-white blocks moving up and down the screen. They mean NOTHING! Where are the instructions?

Oh, and now, guess what: Pinterest says I have 104 followers and I am following 96. Not! Repeat! Not! I am not following ANYONE because I can’t figure the dang Web site out. And another thing, while I’m on a roll. You have to be INVITED to join Pinterest. Aren’t we being a bit smug? What? Do they censor some folks, as if, “Gauche! This girl, Matilda, likes chitlins and hog jowls. Can’t join! BLOCK her!” What’s the criteria? Who can understand any of this stuff, i.e., Pinterest?

Well, I’m going to coin a phrase from Carly, our 6-year old granddaughter. But first let me give you the backstory. On a recent visit, Carly was reading aloud to four or five of us in our living room. She was in the “teacher’s chair” and she made sure she had our attention from the get-go. She would read a page, hold up the book for ALL of us to see—so proudly—then skip to the next page. Someone coughed. Then someone whispered, “Pass me the popcorn.” Then it got real quiet. Next, Carly cleared her throat and said, “Guys!” as she put her book down. We all kept a straight face (hard to do) and she continued, “Does anybody  know WHO is listening to me?” She glared at each of us, one by one, then said, (huge disappointment in her voice), “NO ONE!”

So, I am sorry, Pinterest team. But I know I’m not the only one (another friend lamented her frustration recently) who’s confused.

Here’s the bottom line: WHO can figure out Pinterest? NO ONE!