They don't make'em like they used to, that's for sure

I wish I had a picture of Bessie.  She's a hard worker and sometimes we just take her for granted.  I wish I knew her whole history.  What is amazing is that I know a good 30 years of her history but she's much older than that.

Bessie is the Frigidaire refrigerator currently residing in my basement.  She's from the 1940s and looks great.  She's shorter than me but a good deal wider.  And she looks fantastic.  She has a curved door and one of those pull-latch handles--chrome.  Her interior is aqua.  And the original stickers are still inside. 

Most important, she works like a charm.  She's the "soda fridge" and she takes her job quite seriously.  In fact, the biggest problem we have is that she occasionally gets things a little too cool.  The freezer will ice over.  Or maybe a soda will explode.

But for the most part, she's testimony to a time long ago when they built things to last forever.  I'm really not sure how many homes she has graced.  I imagine she was in my grandparents' home or maybe one of my aunts' before she took up residence at my parents' house.  She's the fridge that my girls used to load up with sodas (and get a quarter for doing so) when we went over to visit my parents.  And one day they decided they wanted a smaller fridge so we got Bessie.  I'm just delighted to have her and thrilled that she continues to work just as hard today as she did when she was brand new. 

Earworm!

I don't normally post on Sundays.  But this little gem came across the radio yesterday.  We were in and out of the car all day so we heard it several times.  It wasn't enough.  So I found it when we got home and my family is soon going to be sick of hearing it.  So I figure it must be good enough to share immediately, right?  Get someone else hooked on this on besides me.

Enjoy!

Cinder

Marissa Meyer's debut novel is a new interpretation of a Cinderella story.  Cinder lives in New Beijing with her step-mother Adri and two step sisters, Pearl and Peony.  Cinder is a cyborg.  She belongs to Adri.  She is also a highly skilled mechanic and she contributes to the family with her earnings and her ability to keep their technology running.

Cinder has a chance encounter with the young Prince Kai, whose father has contracted lutemosis, a terrible disease much like The Plague.   As there is no cure for lutemosis, the entire kingdom is planning for when Kai will be crowned and take over as leader. 

Quite frankly, I know there is a good deal of hype about the novel but I felt that it really wasn't anything all that new.  I could predict where the story was going far in advance which is somewhat disappointing to me.  I also somehow missed that this was the first in a series.  And now I feel I have to read more when it finally comes out so that I can know for sure how it all turns out.

Perhaps if I was a younger reader I would have found more to like in this one.

Don't Answer Me

Somehow this video always bothered me. I loved the song when I was in high school but the video was so ridiculous--a cartoon?  And soooo cheesy.

But a great song.

Banana Peanut Butter Bread

Breakfast is often a struggle in our household.  Traditional breakfast foods don't appeal to all members of our house (I'm not judging--I'm one of those who would eat pizza or chili for breakfast).  This little recipe helps solve the problem for us. . .tasty enough to be eaten by all but with enough healthy stuff mixed in that I don't feel too guilty for serving it.

Banana Peanut Butter Bread

INGREDIENTS:
1 cup butter, softened
2 cups white sugar
4 eggs
1 cup peanut butter
4 bananas, mashed
3 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup oats
2 tablespoons of wheat germ
2 teaspoon baking soda
1 12 oz bag of mini chocolate chip morsels

DIRECTIONS:
Preheat oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). Lightly grease a 5x9 inch loaf pan.

In a large mixing bowl, cream together butter and sugar. Add eggs; beat well. Stir in peanut butter, bananas, flour, oats and baking soda until blended. Fold in chips. Pour into prepared pan.

Bake at 325 degrees F (165 degrees C) for 70 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into center of the loaf comes out clean. Remove to a wire rack to cool.

Chicken Salsa Pizza

I'm bringing this recipe out of the dusty cookbook.  We used to have it now and then.  It's been a while since we pulled it into the regular rotation of meals.  Not sure how that happened though because it's a good meal and a great way to use up that extra baked/broiled/grilled chicken breast.

Pizza Crust (makes two 16" round pizzas)--preheat oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit

2 ½ c all purpose flour

1 c tortilla mix (I get it at Walmart)

2 packets Rapid Rise yeast

1 c water

3 Tsp olive oil

2 Tbsp sugar

Mix dry ingredients then add water and oil.  Mix into dough.  Knead until smooth then let rise in a warm spot.  (We used to put ours in the dishwasher—clean, no dirty dishes—for the dry cycle).

 

(I often use my bread machine to make it even easier.  I put the water and oil in first then salt, flour and yeast.)

After it has had 20 minutes to rise you need to divide the dough into 2 balls.  Lightly flour your counter and roll the dough out using a rolling pin.  Peel it off the counter and put on the pizza pan.

Sprinkle with shredded cheese, about 1/3 cup on each pizza.  Then spread your favorite salsa over the cheese.  I can easily use 1 1/2 jars of Newman's Own salsa making these pizzas.

Sprinkle shredded chicken over the salsa and top with more cheese.  I go sparingly with the cheese for this pizza.  It just doesn't require a lot of cheese to make this one goooood.

Bake for 15-20 minutes.  Some people like pizza crisper than others.  You should probably check it around 15 minutes to make sure it's not getting too "done" for your tastes.

Enjoy!

I've Got Your Number

Once again I got sucked into a Sophie Kinsella novel.  It's not a bad thing.  I enjoy her novels, even if I do sometimes think I just want to reach into the pages of the book to throttle her nit-wit main character.  I've decided that she likes to make us all feel better about ourselves by creating characters that are so silly we feel superior. 

I suppose that makes me sound angry or something.  But I prefer "smart" characters like Jack Daniels or Detective DD Warren or Izzy Spellman.

And yet I keep read Kinsella novels so I must not dislike her style, eh?

In her latest book Poppy is having a terrible problem--she loses her engagement ring and shortly after that her cell phone.  And from there the story rolls on.  Dear sweet Poppy manages to make a thorough mess of pretty much everything before she finally finds a way to sort it all out.

It is a delightful read and as an added bonus, you'll get to feel superior because you would never make the mistakes Poppy does.  But in the end you are thoroughly happy for her as she plods along and finds her way, even when you thought all was lost.

Little Kids are Tough! AKA, Skinned Knees Hurt!

So I fell the other week.  It was one of thse crazy days where things weren't quite going my way and I was distracted and I fell.  Smack right down on both knees.  One would expect that my pants would have been destroyed.  They were not.  But I ended up with two skinned knees.  Lousy event.  Lousy timing.

But there are good lessons from that experience:

1)  Watch where you are going.  Especially when you are carrying a box with dishes in it.  When you are wearing heels.  Walking fast in a parking lot with crumbled patches of concrete.  (The dishes survived the fall with nary a crack--amazing)

2)  Kids are tough.  Really they are.  I cannot figure out why my skinned knees  (happened on a Wednesday) were still so painful on Sunday.  I couldn't even kneel in church.  What is wrong with me?  I thought I was tough.  Apparently not.  Little kids are tough though.  They just keep going.

3)  Little kids are quite helpful.  When my youngest daughter saw my knees she said "Mommy, you are going to need two bandaids for each knee!"  And then she ran off to find my bandaids.

Probably because she knew just how much it hurt.  And she got to take care of me for a change.  Kids are great like that.

I Like Pie!

But I am not a piemaker.  My sister had that job in our household.  I remember asking her the night before what turned out to be our last Thanksgiving dinner to make another pie crust for me so we could have apple pie too.  You should have seen the look she gave me.  Actually, if you have an older sister you probably know exactly the kind of eye-roll she gave me.  But she made it and it was fabulous.  Fortunately my oldest daughter paid close attention to how to make an Aunt Jenny pie crust.

For those of us who find a traditional pie crust a bit tedious to make, I offer an alternative.  We made this pie while we were at the lake for spring break.  We were sceptical but in the end, we really liked this one.  Try it.  You won't be disappointed.


Remy's Patchwork Apple Pie(Makes one 9-inch pie)

Ingredients:
7 Golden Delicious, Granny Smith, or Fuji apples
1/2 cup raisins
3/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1 large egg
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for sprinkling
1 tablespoon heavy cream
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 cup finely chopped walnuts (optional)

Method:
1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
2. Peel, core, and slice the apples into 1/4-inch slices. Cover the bottom of a 9-inch deep-dish pie plate with the apple slices and sprinkle with the raisins.
3. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat 3/4 cup of the sugar and the butter on medium speed for 4 to 5 minutes, or until light and fluffy. Add the egg, then add the 1 1/2 cups flour and mix well.
4. Sprinkle a work surface with about 1/4 cup flour. Turn the dough out onto the work surface and work it by hand as you flatten it into a crust that is 1/4 to 1/2 inch thick. (You could also roll the dough with a rolling pin.) Pat the dough lightly to flatten it. Cut the crust into two-inch squares and lay these over the apples to create a patchwork effect. Brush with the cream.
5. In a small bowl, stir together the remaining tablespoon of sugar, the cinnamon, and the walnuts, if using. Sprinkle over the crust and bake for 15 minutes. Lower the oven temperature to 350 degrees and bake for 30 to 35 minutes longer, or until the crust is golden brown and the apples are bubbly. Serve warm or at room temperature.
You can find this recipe online here or look for
Or look for Debra Ponzek's book The Family Kitchen : Easy and Delicious Recipes for Parents and Kids to Make and Enjoy Together at your favorite bookstore.

Toe-tapping goodness

Caught this peppy toe-tapper one morning on the drive to school.  It's one of those delightful songs you can't help singing along with and you don't even mind that you can't get it out of your head.  Enjoy!

Happy Happy Birthday Baby

Eight years ago a really special little girl came into our lives. 

Right from the start it was clear to all of us that she was most definitely her own little person.

Such a good little angel. 

There were a lot of things going on when she was due to arrive.  My sister was in the middle of chemo treatments.  My dad was in the middle of radiation treatments.

Li'l baby and I had chats about how he/she (since we didn't know what we were getting) had to stay put until her eviction date. 

And she did.  It was a busy time since my dad's brother died just a few days before the set eviction date. His funeral was the day before baby was to arrive. 

But she stayed put like a good little girl.  She even listened when I told her there was no reason to go and get bigger than 9 lbs ("because anything more than that is just showing off anyway")

So on April 20 she came into the world, right on schedule.  And she was 9 lbs, 2 oz.  I can forgive 2 ounces for sure.

First words from the dr were "wow--look at that hair" 

Um thanks Dr but what did we get--boy or girl?

And then finally he told us--a girl.  With thick dark brown hair.

Now you must have some background.  When my oldest was born, in my very first look at her I thought "she looks like my dad."  When my second was born, in my very first look at her I thought "she looks like her other grandfather."  But when my youngest was born I thought "she looks like herself."

She's a delightful little girl who loves to laugh and make other people happy.  She has a keen sense for reading a situation and knowing how to act.  She understands people and their moods.  She loves animals.  We sometimes call her the cat-whisperer because she tamed a feral cat. . .had that cat sitting in her lap in nothing flat.  I thought the cat belonged to a neighbor but no, she was a wild cat from the woods.  And my then 4 year old girl tamed her. 

Today she is eight years old.  Eight years of making our lives fuller, richer and happier.  We never knew what we were missing until we had her.  And now we know that we couldn't live without her.

Happy Birthday Baby Girl!

Movies and plays and butter cream icing!

It's a 4 day weekend for me.  And I can't think of a better time for this one. 

I get to go on my daughter's field trip tomorrow.  They are going to the movies!  Totally excited about that one.

And tomorrow night we are going to see a production of Legally Blonde.  The director is a good friend of ours.  The kids are just over the moon about going to this play.

We have two birthdays to celebrate too.  My lil girl told me "I want a chocolate cake.  I want it to be round.  I want a cake on bottom, one on top and another on on top. And I wants squiggly icing around the bottom.  And then put strawberries around it too.  And put '8' on top of the cake.  Are we having ice cream too?  I want to have ice cream too."

Yuppers.  Definitely a good weekend ahead.  Truly good stuff.

In case you are interested, the chocolate cake will most likely come from a box.  But the icing will be homemade as follows:

1-2 sticks of butter, at room temperature (nice and soft)
2 lb bag of powdered sugar
2 tsp (or more?) of vanilla
2 tablespoons (or more?) of skim milk

Cream butter.  I am planning to use 2 sticks because a 3 layer cake will need plenty of icing.  I will start by mixing in about half the bag of sugar.  Add vanilla and milk.  Continue to beat until smooth adding powdered sugar to the mix until it is the right consistency.  I prefer for it to be thicker than the icing you buy in a plastic tub at the grocery.  It needs to be firm enough to stay on the cake and hold its shape.

The little one has not specified a color for the icing itself or the trim/lettering.  I'll have to get that from her tonight.

Stay Close

Wow.

Somehow I kept walking past this book at the library.  How did that happen?  I love Harlan Coben!  He writes the Myron Bolitar series as well as stand alone novels.  I haven't read a bad one yet.

In Stay Close we meet a cast of characters who have a past.  OK, so we all "have a past" but these people are connected to a terrible incident seventeen years ago.  One of the characters is living the American Dream--little house with the white picket fence, 2 children and a fake name.  Another has moved on, keeping the same name and same profession.  But no contact with others from "the past."  One of the detectives in this novel has a bit of a past with the one character as well.

As usual, Coben takes the reader for a doozy of a ride. . .where people turn out to be something much different from what you expected.  And leaves you wondering just how much you really know about the people in your own life.  What secrets are they hiding?

Get it.  Do not walk past Stay Close.  Pick it up.  You won't regret this one.

Keeping it Simple

I have a crockpot.  It's ages old.  I go through phases where I use it a lot and then it sits on the shelf for a good long while.

I pulled it out the other day, knowing that it was going to be a long busy day and that I'd need supper ready when I waked in the door.

I threw 4 or 5 chicken breasts and a little chicken broth in and flipped the crockpot switch to low.

Those babies cooked for almost 11.5 hours.  When I got home I dumped excess broth off and shredded the chicken, which took practically zero effort since they were so tender.  I added some barbecue sauce and kicked the heat up to high.  In nothing flat we had a meal on the table that was devoured.  Completely devoured by the family. 

Simply divine.  Sometimes it really is the simple things in life.

A day to remember. . .

April is a big month in my family.  But this week in particular is extra-loaded with events.

My parents' anniversary is today (Happy Anniversary!)  They were married on my dad's sister-in-law's birthday.  Down the road sad events fell on my parents' anniversary too.  Eleven years ago on this day we learned that the spots on my sister's lungs were in fact cancer.  Nine years ago the nun that I was named after died.  Eight years ago my dad's brother, my godfather, died.

But time marches on and in our family, the rest of this week brings happier occasions around.  Just a few days after my parents' anniversary we celebrate our youngest child's birthday; she was born on the eleventh anniversary of her daddy and I meeting.  And the day after that is my dad's birthday.

We take the good memories along with the sad ones.  And just keep marching onward and upward.

Quick Book Reports

So I had a pile of books.

I've made it through most of that pile and have a new,taller pile waiting for me to get to them.

But to give a quick review:

Kristin Hannah's books were recommended by a friend.  I often see Hannah's books on the "bestseller express" display at our library but I hadn't picked any of them up until Home Front.  This is the story of a modern family. . .Michael is an attorney and Jolene is a helicopter pilot for the National Guard.  When Jolene gets called to serve the family faces a whole new set of pressures.  It was a good read but I have to say that I found parts of it very unrealistic.  If you read non-fiction accounts of soldiers at war, you will see what I mean.  I hesistate to say more because I do not want to spoil the novel for you.  I would guess that most casual readers would not even catch what I found to be so ridiculous.

Moving on to Lisa Gardner and Catch Me . I  was familiar with Detective DD Warren from an earlier novel, Hide.  I was not disappointed by Catch Me.  It was well written with enough twists and turns to keep me guessing and just enough horror to make me want to keep reading.  I definitely recommend this series.  DD Warren is a tough cookie who will get to the bottom of things.  She has her professional life in line even when her personal life just can't fall in place.

As always my Lee Child book was everything I expected.

But I did have another one in the stack that I just had to let go.  I read the first 100 pages and just couldn't make myself keep reading.  So back it went.  Very odd because it was an author I had always liked very much.  But that happens sometimes.

I still haven't read the Ariana Franklin book.  And for the moment she is displaced by some new selections. . .Sophie Kinsella's I've Got Your Number arrived at the library so I picked it up in a hurry.  I also have one from Marissa Meyer called Cinder.  This is her debut novel for young adults.

Happy reading.  I'm really excited about my long weekend coming up soon.  Lots of time to read!

Where the Dandelions Grow

That's my place.

I have this one long section by my driveway that is difficult to mow.  Apparently there's a bunch of broken glass in that section from all the years that this property was just woods. 

So now I have a field of dandelions in full cotton stage.  Meaning there will be more dandelions soon enough.

Fortunately I don't have to worry about neighbors being upset by the spread of dandelions.  And I can even take pride in the fact that our lawn is natural.  (Although I'm not really sure you can fertilize and then claim "natural" can you?)

I'm thinking about getting one of those old fashioned lawn mowers (sorry Mom--I know that's what you had as a little girl) so that we can cut that area of the yard better. 

And then I can feel even better about being a "green space," right?

We'll Be Alright!

I strongly encourage you to listen as you read today. 

As one of my friends has long said "Age isn't nothin' but a number girlfriend!"

And right she is.

I have another friend and several co-workers who grumble about getting older.  They refuse to say how old they really are with each birthday.

I don't get it.

Why grumble about the time you have been given?  Why hide your age?  Every year you get here is a gift.  Every grey hair is a sign of survival (and some are probably payback for some fun you had!)

My sister died when she was 37.

Can you imagine?  At the time I realized that it was young.  But now that I have some years past 37 I have an even better idea just how young she really was.

Not a single grey hair on that head.  Nary a wrinkle around her eyes.  No smile lines.

What a pity.

I hear young people all the time say ignorant things like "I don't want to get old."

Fools.  Don't they realize that not getting old isn't natural?  Or how sad it is to not get those marks of survival?

You know, my sister always said "I don't  want to get old."

Maybe we should be more careful about what we wish for in our lives?

Maybe we should be thankful each day for what we do have instead of finding ways to tear ourselves down, listing all the things we don't have and don't want.

"We are young, we run free Stay up late, we don't sleep Got our friends, got the night We'll be alright!"

Things I love. . .

Just a list today. 

A quiet room in the morning to drink my coffee and catch up on the news. . .no noise except the hum of the univent.

(Papa Nicholas Family Reserve) Kona Baru coffee  I just happen to like it better than any of the other coffee we've had to date in the house.

Watching my girls grow up.  Little milestones that others might not notice mean something to me.  Like the decision to wear eye makeup even though some of the kids at school can be so discouraging about it.  It looks good on her and who cares what a bunch of 13/14 year old girls have to say?  Be beautiful.  We know they are jealous or somehow feel inadequate.

Hanging out at home.  Really and truly my favorite place to be.  Sometimes I wonder if I just got old or what but I just like being at home.

Have I already mentioned peace and quiet?  Because I really like it.  A whole lot.

Easter Musings. . . .

This was a good Easter.

Despite a sickly little one. 

It was a good Easter because I felt ready for it for the first time in a few years.  My girls had new clothes and shoes.  They were adorable. . .and so grown up.

Mass turned out to be something else for sure.  The oldest had to serve and my husband was a reader.  So that left me with the little ones in the third pew.

Just before Mass started a family came in with one little girl wearing a headband with rabbit ears.  I thought to myself "really??" because this little girl is clearly old enough to be reasoned with on such an issue.  But she took them off before Mass started.

Another little girl sitting in the front pew was just a card.  We tried to be good but everything is funnier in church.  When it was time for collection she opened her little white sequined purse and tried to get her money out. . .only to have to dump her purse over so the change would fall directly into the collection basket.  At the sign of peace she was busy shaking hands with everyone.  She sang along with the choir, obviously in competition with her mother.  Too cute.

The Mass itself was everything it should be--uplifting and exuberant with beautiful music.  There was incense which I always love--the pungent smell and the wafting smoke bring tears to my eyes.  Not bad tears.  Good tears.  The "I'm where I belong" tears.  We were sprinkled with holy water.  We renewed our baptismal promises (which reminded me of a Mass about 32 years ago when one little boy clearly stated his "I do" just after the rest of the congregation--every single time).

After Mass we did our traditional pictures at my parents then went home to pull the meal together.  My parents came to us since the littlest girl wasn't feeling great.  We had a traditional ham and salads meal.  Afterward we did the Easter egg hunt outside.  Our day was capped off with a family movie in the living room where you could nod off if you preferred.

A perfectly comfy, not flashy holiday for us.  Special thanks to the kids for helping pull things together and especially to my oldest who has taken on the role of Easter Bunny assistant extraordinaire!  Couldn't have pulled it off without my excellent helpers.

Teeny Break Planned

I am deep in a stack of books just for fun.  I have Jack Reacher.  I have Catch Me.  I have the first in a series by Ariana Franklin.  I have a Kristin Hannah book too.

So if you don't hear from me for a couple of days, don't fret.  I'm just kicking back a little and indulging in some reading for fun. 

I'll be back when the stack of books thins.

The Baby Shop

Once upon a time there was this store in town called The Baby Shop.  It was locally owned/operated and had everything you would need to take care of your baby through the teen years.

I miss it.

When we were kids we used to go to the downtown store.  Later we found ourselves at the mall location. And even when I was in college I remember going to the new mall to pick up baby gifts from The Baby Shop.

They believed in quality goods and service.

My main memories are from the mall stores but the two stores are somewhat of a blur now.  I remember a narrow mezzanine that had toys--specifically Madame Alexander dolls in their pretty silvery blue boxes.  There were teddy bears too.

I remember trying on Prom dresses there with my sister (Not that either of us went to Prom and guess what?  We lived to tell the tale. It wasn't actually the end of the world like I thought it was when I was in high school.)

I remember getting shoes there.  A good friend of the family worked in the shoe dept of the store (which was actually Baynahm's).  They had colorful carpet with a hopscotch pattern.

Weird how the brain works sometimes.  I remember the carpet vividly.  Chairs?  Not at all. 

I guess I'm nostalgic for the old Baby Shop because I have to take my girls shopping for Easter clothes.  Actually, I have just one left to shop for.  And I wish that I could have just taken them all for some one stop shopping at a store that waits on you to help you find what you really need.

I guess those days are over in this town.  People prefer to shop in the big stores with a huge selection so they can dig around to find what they want.  Or they go online to find it and get it shipped directly to them.

It's a shame.  The little ladies who worked at The Baby Shop always seemed to know just what to suggest for us. No searching in the dark for the perfect dress.  They knew.  And if they didn't have it, they would recommend another place for you to try. 

Those were the days.

Wii Mii Victory!

As part of our fun for break we spent a little time playing on the Wii.  We were on my parents system instead of our own.  Not that it matters much.  Had to make some adjustments for height for the kids--one of them had grown six inches since we last adjusted her height!

But the best moment was when I did my first fitness test and got my Wii Fit Age.  It figured me to be four years younger than I am.  Woo hoo hoo!  Good stuff right there, right?  Much cause for celebration because around a year ago when I was still recovering from surgery (hush, I know the surgery had been 9 months earlier but I had a really slow difficult recovery) my Wii Fit age was some hideous 10-15 years older than I really am.

I, however, could not just leave well enough alone.  No sirree.  Not me.  I just had to tempt fate, right?

So I did the body test again.  Once again the delightful computer reminded me that I am a fatty-boom-bah-latty (thankyouverymuch) and that I need to work on my balance. 

But then this amazing thing happened.  I took the body test again for my Wii Fit Age and guess what?  It determined that I am 21 years younger--21 years--younger--than I actually happen to be.  (Hmm, closer to 21.5 years younger when I really think about it)  And it went on to say I am in really excellent condition.

Me thinks my parents Wii Fit is suffering from some sort of disorder.  How can I be a fatty-boom-bah-latty who really needs to lose weight and then turn out to be in excellent physical condition?

I'm going to focus on the latter message rather than the former.  I'll keep working on the weight loss and healthy eating.  But for now I'm basking in the glow of "excellent physical condition." 

I've come a long way, baby!

Sometimes reading is so disappointing.

I took a little trip last week.  To prepare for the trip I picked up some extra books.  A little of this and a little of that.  A favorite author (OK so it was Lee Child again), a fairly new author, a cookbook and another "favorite" author. 

The last one wrote two series of books that I read and enjoyed.  The one was fairly short (2 or 3 books tops) and the other series was quite a bit longer.  I grew tired of the outlandish nature of the longer series.  But I saw this stand alone book and thought it looked like it might be interesting.

Dead wrong.

Note I am not mentioning the author's name. 

I'm just so disappointed that I had such high hopes for a book that turned out to be such a waste of time.

Fortunately, I still had a Jack Reacher book to save me.

Last night I had the strangest dream. . . .

No.  I didn't sail away to China in a little row boat to find you.

Nope.  I was at work.  My student teacher was there.  Interesting because she was supposed to move to another school.  I was trying to get my class back into my routine (aka, under control).  It was a disaster.  Kids were everywhere and my former student teacher was killing my classroom management.  Just chaos.  Kids were out of their seats.  There was a convention of some sort behind my desk--huge no-no.  I don't allow anyone behind my desk. 

And then my old high school principal walked in and took a seat.  He was there to observe. Why?  How should I know?  Just because it was my dream doesn't mean that I have any sense of what was really happening.

Next thing I knew my dad was calling my name.  He walked in to ask if I had some medicine.

OK, so those last 2 lines weren't part of the dream. That's what I woke up to. . .my mom was sick and needed some medicine.  Since we were at the lake the girls and I were all bunked up in one room and poor Dad wasn't sure which bed I was in.  So he had to wake us all up. 

No harm, no fowl. 

Except I didn't have any medicine to help my mom.  All of us girls were awake.  And Dad had to make a trip to the truck stop down the road to try to find some meds for Mom.

Yeah, that still sounds like part of the dream doens't it?