Happy Birthday Baby Bear!

Well, not until much later in the day.  After all, you don't turn your new age until the time you were born.  And it's certainly not my fault you didn't arrive until almost tomorrow! 

We are just delighted that you made it in May (because after all, this is about me and I love emeralds!).

You have grown into just the person we expected.   You arrived wide-eyed staring at the world. . .and continued to be wide-eyed at night for years to come.  So you are a night owl.  That's not so much of a problem now as it was back at the beginning.

You treat others with kindness and compassion. . .never forgetting that they too are facing struggles.  While that may drive some people crazy, I love it.  It's what God hopes for us.

We'll have a summer of fun together.  Let's not waste any time.  Nothing but happiness and love for my Emerald Girl!

Rain Drops Keep Falling on my Head

Oh the beautiful sound of a roll of thunder followed by the patter splat patter splat of rain hitting the deck!

We've not had much rain in these parts for a while.  So while it was delightful to spend part of yesterday afternoon on the deck soaking up some sun and reading, we were thrilled to be driven into the house by clouds then thunder then rain.

Things around here have been drying out.  Even though common sense says "don't burn during high temps and no rain" people down the road from me were starting fires to burn off  twigs and yard waste.  Scary!

Might as well listen to the happy little tune that I started singing when the rains started.  We had a nice long soaking rain followed by a lingering drizzle.  Very nice.

Vacation all I ever wanted!

It goes without saying that I love my job.  However, when the year winds down and the days are hot and full of sunshine, I am absolutely ready for summer vacation.  At the end of May and beginning of June I have my list of things to do.  Might as well share.  Perhaps making it public will mean that it happens, right?

Home projects:

• Build those shelves I mentioned back in February
• Build the benches to go with the rustic farmhouse table we built in April.
• Sand and paint the kitchen chairs to match the table and benches we built
• Build the two walls to make the bedroom/storm-room in the basement
• Clean/organize/purge the basement
• Paint the laundry room, upstairs hallway and maybe part of the basement
• (Clean out the garage!)

Projects with the kids:

• Paint the desk chair--turquoise!!!
• Paint their name signs, an unfinished project from last summer
• Find a vet's office or animal rescue spot for my youngest to volunteer at a few times this summer
• Bake up a freezer full of breakfast treats for next school year!  English muffins, bagels and kuchens would be nice
• Work in the garden.  We really want to have more fresh vegetables and berries.
• (Build a playhouse/shed)
• (Build a campsite down in the woods perhaps looking into the cost of some canvas shading that would provide some measure of tick protection too)

Fun times:

• Swimming.  Lots and lots of swimming!
• Short road trips.  Right now I'm looking at trips to 3 or 4 nearby "big" cities for a few days at a time.  In three of those cities we have friends we can hang out with rather than have to stay in hotels. 
• Many trips to the library/long afternoons reading
• Take in a few baseball games.  Baseball was a huge part of my life when I a kid; I feel it should be part of theirs too. 

That looks like a pretty good list to get us started!

Memorial Day

Today is the day of the Great American Cookout to kick off the summer.

Not in my house.

We never had the cookout on Memorial Day.

No siree.  Today is the day to remember the soldiers who have fought for their nation. . .to protect democracy and people over the years.

Today we say thank you to those soldiers, as well as their families and friends, for the sacrifices they made for their country.

Thank you for your service.  Thank you for your devotion.  Thank you for your sacrifice.

Today we remember you.

We Just Have to Say Goodbye

At the end of a school year I get all optimistic about how next year is going to be different.  I get to a point where I'm just ready to be done--after all, my students are "just drillin' holes" after a while. 

But, it means saying a lot of goodbyes.  Some years it's incredibly difficult to send these young men and women on their way.  I have had the good fortune to work with some really incredible kids.  This year I was lucky enough to get to take one group of talented kids to state competition.  It was a very small group.  But it was the first time our school had sent a group to state for this academic competition so we were pretty impressed with ourselves. 

But now our good times are over.  It's time to send another group off into the "real world" (whatever exactly that means).  They are off to bigger and better things.  I always get a bit excited for my kids who didn't quite fit in because when they get to college they will find other kids just like them.  They will be happier than they have ever been before.

A few years ago I had a very special group that graduated.  The night of graduation I drove up to school listening to a song by Joey + Rory "To Say Goodbye."  You can listen to it on their website (scroll down to see it on the jukebox).  I cried.  It's a touching song on it's own.  But the last 2 lines really resonated with me on that night: 

"No it ain’t let that we can’t let them go,
We just want to say goodbye"

Graduation is important to me.  Those kids come in and for four years they are my kids.  I see them become young men and women.  It amazes me every time.  Most of the time graduation is the last time I see these kids.

So when I am sitting on the football field with my kids, someone else's precious baby that is graduating--sometimes after tremendous challenges--I am so honored to be there.  But I'm a bit of a tourist.  I take the picture their parents can't get.  The impossibly close up picture as they shake hands with their teachers after they have walked across the stage.  The picture of them signing for their diplomas.  The whole time thinking that it isn't that I can't let them go. . .I just have to say goodbye.

Speedy Mexican

Sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures.  One night I had limited supplies on hand, limited time and hungry people.  This was our creation.  They liked it well enough for us to put it into the regular rotation.

Speedy Mexican
3/4-1 lb ground beef
1 jar Newman's Peach Salsa
1/2-1 c frozen corn (as your family likes it)
Shredded Cheese
Tortillas (any size will work)

Brown meat then add salsa and corn.

Put tortilla on a baking pan. Spread meat/salsa corn mixture on and top with cheese. Layer another tortilla on top with the same mixture; repeat layers. Add another tortilla and top with cheese.. I make mine 3-4 tortillas deep with the last tortilla getting cheese only.

(Generally I use 3/4 lb ground beef and make 2 of this "tortilla pie/lasagna like" things which is enough for us.)

Bake at 425 until the cheese on top is melted or if you are really in a hurry throw in the broiler for a couple of minutes to melt the cheese

Cut like a pizza and serve with more salsa, lettuce and jalapenos.

Also, sometimes I fry onions in butter/sugar to top the tortilla stacks.

Six Weeks Muffins

It's about time to mix up some muffins.  Lazy summer mornings often require "food on demand" for kids who get up at different times.  Having this mix in the fridge means fresh muffins and easy mornings.

Six Weeks Muffins
This batter may be kept in refrigerator for up to 6 weeks. Make only the amount you need
1 (15 oz) box Raisin Bran
3 c sugar
5 c plain flour
5 tsp soda
2 tsp salt
1 c oil
4 eggs
1 qt buttermilk

Mix Raisin Bran and buttermilk. Add remaining ingredients. Spoon into the muffin pan.  Bake at 400 F for 15-20 minutes.

You may substitute oats or wheat flour for part of the flour. I generally use 2 c regular flour, 1 ½ c oats and 1 ½ c wheat flour

Graduation

We can't let the milestone pass without another commentary.

She has grown so much.  When she was first born I was home with her for ten weeks before I had to go back to work and my parents became her babysitter.  She became a "little adult" then.  She has always interacted well with people who are older than her; she naturally gravitates toward parents over kids when we are in a crowd of people.  She has a level a maturity that was once described as "a thirty-five year old trapped in a twelve year old's body."  True.

As I write this today I have her Easter picture propped up by my computer.  Above the desk are pictures of her through the ages.  A smiling three month old with the litlte head squisher.  Then as a six month old surrounded by teddy bears.  At nine months wearing a little sweatsuit with canvas tennis shoes and holding "Lammy Lamb."  Her precious one year old picture when I couldn't imagine she could ever be more beautiful.  In time her sisters came along so there are group photos.  Pictures at three years old (where she finally had enough hair to look like a little girl instead of a baby) and through various states of tooth loss. 

But today she is the gorgeous teenager with perfect hair and perfect-never-needed-braces-teeth.  She is the girl who led the singing at graduation Mass (3 songs), read petitions and played the offetory song on piano. 

After Mass we went to the reception in the gym.  There I was able to thank two of our three favorite teachers for all they have done for my girl.  Her kindergarten teacher is no longer at her school but she came back to see her kids graduate; I cried.  Just seeing her again. 

Such wonderful people to take care of my girl and help her grow into my beautiful teenager.

(Ok, if you are sick of me going on and on about my girl, you can take comfort in the fact that she will not be the topic of tomorrow's post.  I promise.)

Graduation Day

Today my oldest graduates from eighth grade.  Where did the time go? 

The last nine years have been full of ups and downs, just as you might expect.  She went off to school, just a little girl who loved to wear dresses (but hated that she was supposed to wear shorts under them.)  She had an amazing kindergarten teacher who picked her up and gave her love of reading and learning.

I know my Baby Bear still remembers that first day. We made muffins to take along for breakfast; she never was a fan of a sit-down breakfast on a school day.  So we sat on the steps of the school eating our muffins and she looked at me and said, "Mommy, I'm not sure I'm ready for this."  I hugged her and told her I knew she was anxious but that she'd be just fine.  When the time came to go up to the classroom I gave her another hug and kiss then turned to leave.  I lingered a bit longer at the door than I should have so her teacher told me "Mom, you can go now."  That was when I cried.  Just a bit.  I'd been dismissed by the teacher.

My little girl progressed through kindergarten and found a best friend.  They looked so much alike that the teacher sometimes got them confused.  They stayed best friends through first and second grade.  In third grade they were put in separate classes, which was probably for the best since we knew her best friend was going to be moving to a different school starting in fourth grade.

Third grade was rough.  My little angel was sick for a while and just had some tough times.  But she learned a huge lesson that year.  True friends are always your friends.  And the popular crowd will talk about you if you aren't there.  She decided then that if that's what it took to be popular, she didn't care to be popular.  Good girl.

Fourth grade meant a new building.  And going it without a best friend anymore.  She just kept going.  Plugging along with a couple of good friends but not that "bestie" like she'd had before.  She endured some scrapes and bruises emotionally but stayed true to herself and remained a good Christian girl, remembering the Golden Rule.  

Suddenly she was in eighth grade.  She was making plans for going to high school.  This time she is the one leaving the group of friends.  Most of them will continue on to the school that their elementary school feeds into.  But she is jumping over to a much bigger school.  (Both are excellent schools.  It's just a personal choice to switch to the bigger one.)  While she is very excited about going to the bigger school, she is nostalgic.  She has been with this group of kids for the last nine years.  And while they haven't always gotten along, they have always been there.  They will be able to stay in touch.  But it won't be the same. 

Tonight is the end of an era for her.  While some would say eighth grade graduation is a silly little milestone in life, no one can argue that a relationship that lasts nine years isn't anything to dismiss lightly.  These people and this school have had a tremendous impact on the beautiful, loving, graceful, prayer-ful, Christian young lady I get to call my daughter.

I know she'll read this and I hope she can read between the lines to know just how proud I am of her and the decisions she has made over the last nine years.  And by tacking on this little song, I know she'll tear up.  Happy tears for what she has had mixed with sad tears for what she leaves behind.  Keep looking ahead Baby Bear because great things wait for you at your next school!

Deadlocked

Oooooo what a treat!  I walked into the library and saw the latest Sookie Stackhouse book (by Charlaine Harris) sitting on the Bestseller Express rack.  My reading lately has been all over the map so I wasn't even aware that the newest book was out (bad Sookie fan, bad!)  But it was a delight to find a new one and even better, I thoroughly enjoyed this one.

The previous book in the series was just too "out there" for me.  I like the books that keep Sookie in her Gran's house and revolve around the people already in her life rather than introduce a ton of new people that I can't keep straight anyway.

In this one, Sookie gets to unravel the mystery of how and why a girl ends up dead in Eric Northman's front yard.  There is an ongoing struggle with the fairy community and of course Alcide and his pack tie into the story as well. 

Overall it was a much better "back to Sookie" kind of story.  Just delightful.

For the good times.. . .

My oldest listens to her mp3 player or radio in the mornings when she gets ready for school.  Pretty typical, right?  I've gotten used to hearing her music playing from the upstairs bathroom as I get myself ready each day.

But the other morning, I had to run up to her closet to retrieve one of my black sweater dealios that she had borrowed.  And as I walked by the bathroom I had to pause out of shock.

She was listening to Ray Price sing For the Good Times.

Shock.

She got to know that song as a little girl riding in her mama's van, forced to listen to whatever mama wanted to listen to.

So I had to ask her. . .how out of all the music she has did she come to land on that song?  What a song for a "kid" to listen to, right?

She said "I remember listening to it with you.  Big Bird was on the CD case.   I remember knowing that I wanted to listen to the one with Big Bird on the case.  I don't know why he was on that case though. . . ."

It was a series of CD's titled "Have a Nice Day" with songs from the 70s.  How funny that she remembered the case and associated it with the song and riding in the car?

To borrow from Eric Church and his song "Springsteen,"  "Funny how a melody sounds like a memory."

Chicken in a Puff. . .aka, dinner before kids

Before the kids came along we used to fix thise (minus the pimento).  I"m sure my husband and our oldest child would both be delighted if this made it's way back into the menu rotation.  But I'm also pretty sure it's not a very diet-conscious meal and that the two younger children would refuse to eat it.

But one day, it will grace the tables again.

Chicken in a Puff
1 package crescent dinner rolls
2 c cooked, seasoned, diced chicken breast
3 oz cream cheese--softened
2 T. melted margarine
2 T milk
1 T minced onion
2 T chopped pimento
½ t salt
½ t pepper
1 t thyme (optional)

Divide dough into 4 portions and pat into squares. Mix other ingredients and divide evenly in center of squares. Fold corners up to center and brush with melted butter. Sprinkle with parmesan cheese.

Bake at 350 for 20-25 minutes (until golden brown). Do not crowd on baking sheet. These can be frozen~~bake for 30-35 minutes. These could also be made using ham

The Shostakovich

Once upon a time I was a girl with a violin and some talent.  I was good.  I don't talk about it much now because it's part of who I was and not so much who I am now.  Frankly it embarrasses me when one of my co-workers tells other people what a great musician I was back in the day.  Ok.  So I was the number violinist in the city.  There.  I said it. 

But before I reached that point in my musical career I was a shy eighth grader who auditioned for a special high school orchestra that was going to perform at a music festival in Chicago.  I made it (not a shock actually) and was among the rows of first violin players at the conference.  My sister was also in the first violin crowd.

Our crowning piece for our concert was "The Shostakovich."  Just the name was daunting!

We worked all summer on our repertoire.  We had a little of this and a little of that.  But "The Shostakovich" was clearly our big challenge piece.  It was probably the longest piece most of us had played to that point in our lives.  We had sectionals and small group rehearsals.  We had tough directors who were so passionate.  They wanted us to get it.  They knew we could get it.

The trip was scheduled for mid-December.  It was a huge to-do.  We were a huge orchestra and then we had all the music teachers and a host of parents who went along to chaperone.  We stayed at the Chicago Hilton.  Somehow my sister and I lucked out in a big way.  We had a very large room with twin beds on one side and some other bed on the other side (I cannot remember now?) plus we had bathrooms on each side of the room.  There were just three of us in the room; the fourth girl became ill with mono and was not allowed to travel.

While we were in Chicago we went to The Parthenon (delicous baklava, incredible flaming cheese, and home of the never empty glass of water).  We also went to the symphony one night (someone in the row in front of me almost fell asleep, the first chair cellist grunted while he played and the conductor hit the swinging microphone above his right hand on stage--we were tired and those things humored us).  We practiced.  We went sightseeing.  We practiced more.  We listened to other groups perform.  We practiced again.

Finally it was our turn on stage.  I remember very little about the crowd or the rest of our performance.  But I remember the smile on our conductor's face just before "The Shostakovich."  We got a big grin and a "relax--you're almost done" whispered to us.  It helped relieve the pressure before we tackled that monster.

I'm quite certain we weren't quite this flawless in our performance.  But it sure felt like it.  The absolute exuberance of completing that piece, well, I can't say I've ever felt quite like that since.  Sheer joy and pride throughout that orchestra that night.

. 

I must add one final note to this post.  As I wrote it I realized again that I am the only one left from our room on that trip. My sister died almost 6 1/2 years ago from a rare cancer.  The violist who roomed with us died almost 20 years ago from bone cancer.  So hard to believe they are both gone.  We were devastated when Greta died.  Just unreal

Hot Chicken Salad

Some days just call for comfort food.  And when you have one of those days, this recipe hits the spot.  It's one my sister used to make.  We make some substitutions/deletions for our household.  Hey, with kids in the house, sometimes you've got to do what you've got to do.  OK.  I will quit blaming the kids and accept responsibility for my own dislike of celery and mushrooms.

Hot Chicken Salad
Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit
 2 cups cooked chicken
1 can Cream of Chicken Soup, undiluted (you can also use cream of potato, cream of onion or cream of mushroom)
1 cup cooked rice
3/4 cup Hellman’s Mayonnaise
1 cup chopped celery
1/4 cup chopped onion
½ cup sliced almonds
1 can (large) mushrooms
1 cup buttered cornflakes (melt a little butter and sprinkle of the cornflakes)

Bake until bubbly–30 minutes in a 9" x 13" glass baking dish
Can also be baked in small aluminum bread pans and freeze. It reheats well in the microwave.

It's more of a winter meal but sometimes you just need some goodness to end your day.

Ice Cream!

Mmmmmmmm, dreamsicles! 

I'm just old enough to remember the days when the ice cream truck used to roll down the streets and you'd run out to get some ice cream.

I remember one evening we were at home but we had company (Travie, an extra grandmother to me).  We heard the gentle tinkle of the ice cream truck's music playing and she said "Oh girls--go get my purse!"   We looked at my mom and she said "sure."

I can't even remember the choices we were given.  But I do remember the cold refreshing dreamsicle that I had.  It was the biggest dreamsicle I had ever seen and, even more impressive, the orange coating was actually distributed evenly over the creamy vanilla ice cream (something that never seems to happen when I buy a box of them at the grocery store--plus they are smaller than I remember). 

It seems those days are gone around here.  Travie has been gone for more than twenty years.  And the ice cream trucks don't head out our way all that often.  When they do, I'm more leery of buying from them now.

I was so blessed to have such a good childhood in a safe environment, able to enjoy the frivolity of ice cream on a summer evening with my family.  Good stuff.

Warm snuggles for Mother's Day

Snuggles.  Quite possibly my favorite part of being a mother.

But warm snuggles?  While I'm happy to oblige with snuggles pretty much on demand, warm snuggles mean someone is fighting a fever.

When we left for Mass yesterday morning I had to awaken one lil girl who had dozed off in the La-Z-Boy chair.  Uh-oh.  Clearly a sign things were not quite right.  But we needed to get out the door since one was set to serve.  Sleepy girl said her stomach hurt and then the younger sister echoed that sentiment (probaby just for the snuggles--I know that little one too well).  But the first one to complain was also a little too warm to the touch.  My poor girly.  When she asks to snuggle it's a sign she's not well.

But as I sat in Mass, watching my oldest serve and the younger two burrowing into me (politely--no pushing or shoving during Mass!) I couldn't help but think that it's fitting.  Mothers are the ones to make the sacrifices for their babies like no one else does.  The babes hurt and so do we.  We just want them well (although every mother has been known to enjoy the relative peace you have in the house when someone is too sick to instigate trouble).  And so it fit that on Mother's Day my girls would need to snuggle in for extra love just to get through Mass. It's not a burden.  It's just being a mother.

The red rose tells you of his passion, the white rose his love so true

I recently pulled out some of the old tapes that have been lurking around in my car for the last ten years or so.  At one point I made a tape of the 60s music my parents had on records when I was a kid.  And this one was on the tape in my car:   Patti Page "Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte"

I remember many nights hearing this song playing.  Somehow in my memory, this song came up a lot on Saturday nights when I would get done taking a bath and putting on my little red corduroy robe that my mom made for me.

I always thought it was such a sweet song.  And as I got older I found myself saying that I didn't want a dozen red roses.  No, I would settle for two roses--a red one and a white one.  That's the power those words had for me even as a little girl.

Fast forward a few years and I realized that the song was also connected to a movie starring Bette Davis.  the shortest synopsis I can give you is that Ms. Davis' character is an old woman living alone in a huge old house, the same one she lived in when her (married) lover was killed in a very brutal attack nearly 40 years ealier.  When family comes to live with her, they work to make her believe she is insane.  They are terrible.  They play this song on a music box for her just to taunt her.  At one point she is awakened by the strains of this song being played in the music room on the main floor of the house.  She goes to the music room and sees a severed hand--and believes it is his.  And she is terribly scared when his head rolls down the curved stairwell and lands at her feet.

Sounds horrid doesn't it?  But this movie and this song make me smile.  You see, when I was a teenager my sister and I stayed up late one night watching this movie on cable tv.  My dad snuck out into the kitchen and got a grapefruit which he slowly rolled down the basement steps to my sister and I.  My sister screamed bloody murder. 

The family history on this one goes back even further.  When my parents were young newlyweds my mom decided to play a trick on my dad and hide from him when he got home from work.  He came in and knew she had to be home but she wasn't answering him.  So he went to the basement steps (it was a scary scary old basement) and gently called down to her with his hands cupped around his mouth--"Chaaaaaaarrrrrrrrlotte.  Chaaaaaaarrrrrrrlotte."  Mom came running up the steps and told him "Don't you ever do that again!"

So many memories and thoughts packed into a three minute song. 

Lloyd's Ice Cream

A long time ago my grandparents lived in town in a bungalow with a wide front porch.  They had a big backyard for a city house.  Their driveway was really long too and they could get to their garage from the road or from an alley behind the house.

I remember going over to their house and getting all of us in the car to go get ice cream at Lloyd's.  Dad drove, my mom and sister rode in the front seat.  Nana, Papa and I rode in the back.  When we got to Lloyd's Dad did a quick survey around the car for what kind of cones we wanted.  I always got all-natural strawberry.  Papa was chocolate almond.  Nana was butter pecan.  Mom and Dad went with either chocolate almond or butter pecan.  My sister always got fresh peach. 

The people at Lloyd's would dip the ice cream into cones then pass the cone server out to the car and we'd all pick up our cones.  Then we'd head back to my grandparents' house.

Funny thing is, I remember us doing this several times, right?

Not so.  According to my mom we only did this once or twice with my grandparents.   But I remember it like it was a frequent occurance.  Must have been because it was good ice cream with good people.

Lloyd's is long gone, replaced by another name, but the last time I was there, I saw they still had fresh peach ice cream on the menu.  That's going to have to make it on the list of things to do with the kids this summer--go eat some fresh peach ice cream!  There's nothing quite like it.

Crossing off another milestone. . .

We had a busy night last night.  It was "play night."  After much drama (haha) about what the play would be and who would have what roles, it was finally the night for us to see the drama on the stage.  Our oldest had a good little speaking role and everyone told us after the show that she had done a very nice job.  She had :-)

It never fails to amaze me.  Kids are so dang good.  Because it is a very small school with a very small eighth grade class we knew it would have to be a smaller play, not even one we had ever heard of before this year.  It was supposed to be a 35 minute play with two acts.  There were two acts but it didn't break 25 minutes.  When it was over, my youngest said "I want them to do it again!" and I felt the same way.  It was just a sweet little play about a couple of mannequins in a store when the store is robbed.   The kids did a great job with it.  They took their roles seriously and they all pitched in to make the whole play work.  They contributed items from their own homes and closets to make the set and props.  And when the play was over they all stuck around to pack it all away.

Good job kids!

I get by with a little help from my friends

I had a really rotten start to this work week.  Or so it seemed.

It was picture day for the kids.  Two of the three had some sort of issue at 6:30 in the morning regarding their outfits.  (This, after I had to run a special load of laundry the night before because they suddenly realized they didn't have jeans.)

We left a little late for school.

As we crossed one set of railroad tracks, we saw the train sitting still.  We said a quick prayer it wouldn't have us blocked at the next street (the tracks curve and our normal route to school means crossing that set twice).  But it was blocked.

Oooookay then.

New route.

But then the same set of railroad tracks (which I cross in yet another spot each day after dropping them off to school) was shut down entirely.  There was asphalt piled up at that crossing.  What happened here????  No time to worry about that.  The goal was to get to school on time.

I debated who to drop off first.  Then I had to call in quickly to say that I would likely be late.  My secretary was very good this morning and said she'd take care of me.

We proceeded to school.  The shuttle bus hadn't left yet (thank you for small miracles!) so the older two were able to make it on time.  The youngest didn't have any worrries since her school starts a bit later.

And then I made it in as well.  Huge thanks to my secretary for taking care of me. 

And of course the ultimate thanks to the one who got me in to get my work week started on a positive after so much stress just getting to work!

Cross one thing off the summer honey-do list. My table is done!!

Well, we did it.

Who would have thought we would manage it.  Even my daughter was impressed because she thought this was a "down the road (but wouldn't really happen) project."  She was wrong.  It took us a couple of weeks to finish it but here's how it broke down:

Sunday night. . ."So hon, do you think we want to work on the table tomorrow while the kids are at school?"

"Sure why not?"

"Ooh very cool.  We could have a really pretty table for First Communion"  (Hmm, when did I think the benches would be made?  I guess I was planning all along on them being a faster and easier project than a table, right?)

Around 9 am Monday morning I told him I was almost ready to go.  Then we had to stop to print out the plans and figure out the changes we were going to make.  Because after all, plans are just guidelines, right?

At 10 am we walked into Home Depot.  I went straight to paint while he went looking for woodfiller.  He refused to ask where it was.  When we couldn't find it, we moved on to other things on the list.  Then I asked where we could find the woodfiller. . .not while standing by my hubby of course.

We got all the little things then went down to the lumber area.  We got started on our list, confirmed they could do the cuts for us and we were off.  Time spent at Home Depot?  About an hour.

I picked up just 2 splinters in this process.  We also amended the "plan" again as we were selecting wood.  We had decided earlier that we didn't want an 8 foot long table but that a 6 foot would be plenty long.  And then we changed our mind and decided that a 6 1/2 foot table would be perfection.  While we were selecting the wood we decided that the side aprons would be right at 6 feet long and we'd have just a touch more overhang. 

When we got home we emptied the garage and unloaded the wood.  We laid the pieces out and marked things then we were ready to assemble.  Except the instructions just said "glue and screw the frame together."   Oh dear.  The little problems began.  We don't have a countersinking bit.  Pre-drilling holes and countersinking and then screwing it together sounded ghastly.  So he went back to return the first set of screws and pay just a teeny bit more to get countersinking screws.  That was at noon.

After that little errand we decided to have a quick lunch and head back out to start putting it together.  The first ones were really tough.  But we fell into a pattern with it and it got easier.  Had to pick the kids up at 2:30 so I had a little break.  When I got back we finished the last 4 screws for the frame then decided to add a couple of pieces before we put the top on.  By 4:00 we were done putting the top together and had an appointment for a consultation with a woodworking mastermind to sort out the legs.  The plan called for 2x4's for legs and we settled on 4x4s.  Just a tiny issue.  We got a friend's help with notches in the legs and then it was time to set the project off to the side for a bit.

The next week we did woodfiller and lots of sanding.  We got the legs attached.  And then we sanded a little more.  We stained the top of the table using the leftover custom color from our build so it matches the pantry door, trim and baseboards and coordinates with our hardwood floors.  The apron and legs had to primed then painted "Cracked Pepper" from Lowe's (Valspar semi-gloss paint).  End result?  We love it!

Passing our faith along. . . .

Yesterday our youngest made her First Communion~~a milestone in her Christian life.  I hope she always remembers how excited she was about being able to receive Jesus after waiting so long for Communion.  She was just adorable.  She couldn't wait to get dressed.  She couldn't wait to get to church.  When it was all said and done, she said "I wish we could do that again; it was so exciting today!"  She was so ready to be able to welcome Jesus through communion. 

(As a side note, I"m happy that she won't have to cross her arms for a blessing rather than being able to take communion when we are visiting at another church.  This little 8 year old is past my chin these days--she certainly looks old enough to have communion.  More than once I have had to remind her so that the Eucharistic minister did not give her communion!)

It was fitting that our deacon's homily today spoke about passing faith on to our children.  Just the other day I was thinking that as I look back on my life and then look at those around me, I cannot help but feel like shouting a giant "Thank You!" to my parents for giving me the gift of faith. 

So many people doubt God.  They "give up" on God.  Or maybe they never even believed in all that "God" business.

I find it all so hard to imagine.  How do they get through their days?  How do they find strength?  Who do they talk to?  Why do they think that believers are "weak" for the fact they believe?

No, to me, those of us who can believe without seeing, who can feel God lifting them up and helping them through the rough patches in life, we are not the ones who are weak.  We are strong in our faith.  We believe without "proof."

Yesterday I watched my sweet little girl with a smile so bright, so eager to take the next step in her Christian journey.  I pray that she will always remember she is a child of God. . .that God loves his children. . .that he loves to hear from them.  I pray that she always knows that God wants what is best for her and that she has the freedom to make those choices He will love.

Saturday Music

When I was a kid growing up we would clean house on Saturday morning.  We'd get the records on and get busy--dust, vacuum, and take care of laundry.  All the while listening to the "Sounds of the 60s" from the record player.  I have vivid memories of pretending I was on stage singing this one when I was supposed to be dusting in the living room (did I think they couldn't hear me???)  Oy.

And how did I not think I'd get caught picking up the stereo needle to play this song over and over again?

We were expressly forbidden from picking up the arm on the stereo to replay a song because doing so might mean that the record would be scratched.  But I had to hear my song over and over and over.  And I couldn't wait through all the songs on that side of the record!!!

PS--if anyone finds The Sensational 60s or Greatest Love Songs of the Sensational 60s on a CD (I want the Columbia Records version from oh so long ago) please send me a message!  So far I have not had any luck finding them.

Elementary school talent shows, aka, proof that parents love their children

My kids have some talent.  Some is even worthy of showing off.

Last night we went to watch our oldest perform (Ballad of Don Quixote) for the talent show at her school.  Now I have one friend who claims he would rather stick himself in the eye with a dinner fork than have to go watch an elementary school talent show.  Personally I think he's crazy.  Sure they can be trying.  Painful in fact.  But they are definitely proof of how much we love our kids.

When my daughter got ready to play, they hit some technical difficulty with the wiring.  But after they got it all straightened out, she did a beautiful job on her piece.  The mom sitting behind us even whispered to her family "Wow--she is good."  No one could have known how stressed she was while they were fixing the crossed up wires and such.  So proud of her for her composure.

Some of other acts were incredible.  There is a young Adele at this school.  Such a fantastic performer.  But other acts were, as you might expect, really difficult to sit through. 

Before long I found myself wiping away tears.  Not out of sadness.  Not out of embarrassement for the kids.  But out of sheer pride in a great group of kids who got up on that stage to perform and had the guts to stay up there even when their acts were crashing in on them. 

A few acts were singing to their favorite songs.  But there was a problem on the sound system so all at once their background would disappear and their naked little faltering voices were out there all alone.  But no one ran from the stage.  They stayed and made it through to the end.  Then they smiled brightly, took their bows and ran off stage.

Kudos to the kids with guts and determination.  I'm so proud of those little entertainers.  Even though some of the singing was well below Adele, they were great performers who kept going through the rough patches.  Their bright spirits managed to shine right through the less than perfect performances. 

Bless the children, one and all.

Three Corn Casserole

It's not a family gathering without certain dishes.  Three Corn Casserole is one of those that graces the table for all kinds of occasions.  We have First Communion coming up this week and I'm just guessing this will be on the menu.

Three Corn Casserole
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup dairy sour cream
1 egg
1 can (16 oz) whole kernel corn, drained
1 can (16 oz) cream style corn, undrained
1 package (9 oz) corn muffin mix
1 cup grated Cheddar cheese

In large bowl, mix together butter, sour cream and egg. Stir in cans of corn and corn muffin mix.

Spoon mixture into buttered 2-quart casserole dish. Bake in preheated 375-degree oven, 45 minutes.

Add cheese; stir well. Cook additional 15 minutes, or until dish is slightly puffed.

This dog is driving me crazy. What do you mean she's my dog?

A long time ago a slightly crazy girl thought that the time was right to add a puppy to the family.  The puppy was an adorable little thing. . .yellow labrador retriever.  The pup was the only one in her litter.  This should have been a warning sign but no, it didn't deter this crazy girl at all.

So the youngest child in the house was about 10 months old and a 3 month old puppy came to live with the family.  The puppy was an amazing escape artist, finding a way out of a completely fenced in yard not once or twice but several times and even managing to get herself hit on one of those excusions.

She was easy to housebreak and mostly easy to train.  (Thank goodness for small victories, right?)

But she loved to chew.  And that was pretty much the death of the "awwww, look at that sweet puppy" phase for the crazy mama girl that brought her into the home.  Please don't judge.  Imagine how you would feel if you came home one day and discovered that every single one of the lower cabinet doors in your kitchen had been chewed on~~in the middle of the door~~by the puppy?  And she also managed to get on top of the counters (still baffled on that one) and ate things from the counter.  It was a real blow to the relationship.

For a good 5 years we have had a love hate relationship.  She adores me when I give her food and I adore her when she sleeps outside.  I have turned into that person that I never thought I would be (you did realize I was the crazy girl in the story here, right????).  I mean, who hates her dog?  Especially one as pretty and smart as mine?

Last fall she had a medical crisis.  We weren't sure what happened but she went downhill fast.  She couldn't walk.  She wouldn't eat.  We couldn't get her to drink anything.  She stayed in one spot for more than 12 hours.  She was swollen and miserable.  But if you sat with her, she wagged her tail.

We got her in to the vet's office and his advice that Friday night was "put her down."

Um, no.  So we had a bunch of testing done and it turns out that she has a thyroid problem.  She lost close to 25 pounds in the first month of taking thyroid medication.  She regained energy we hadn't seen in years.  It also freaked her out some, all that energy, and she developed hotspots on her paws from obsessive cleaning.

That crisis was about 6 months ago.  During the crisis I boiled chicken for her.  I made rice with chicken broth.  I sat on the living room floor in my jammies feeding her (Eating in the living room?  Me, on the floor in my jammies with her?)

But we have returned to normal.  I consistently give her reminders that she is a "D-O-G for Pete's sake" and insist that she get away from my food.

And by returning to normal, we mean she is back to some of her old tricks.  You see, for a few months leading up to her crisis, she slept through the night.  Like the dead.  But now she is back to waking us up 4-5 times a night wanting to go out, wanting back in, wanting to go out, wanting back in, and so on.

She drives me nuts. 

As she should, right?

Magnalite Giveaway: Some things in life are too good to say no to!

I recently inherited some Magnalite pans from my mom.  She has more than she could possibly use (her original set, her mom's original set and my sister's set).  I knew she had a lot but there's not point in asking for things that you know are eventually going to make their way to you, right? 

So I waited.  My set of pans has served me well over the last 16 years but I've always felt like something was missing.  While there are only 4 burners on my stove, my collection of pans was too small. 

I picked up 2 pans with lids--perfect for cooking my sides.

What is so special about Magnalite pans? 

Look how pretty they are!



Ok, more importantly, they are good enough for my grandmother and my mom which says alot.  They are aluminum/magnesium alloy and start life as shiny pans.  They are thicker than other pans I have used and apparently have a more "convection" like cooking than other pans do when you put the lid on.  They are molded to have a pouring spout.  And they heat evenly which of course helps you get your meal on the table faster.  The shine wears off eventually, no matter how careful you are with them.  But they are durable pans and really easy to clean. 

My collection of pans has grown.  And I am thrilled.  I love having pans that belonged to my mom and my grandmother.  I know the ones I just got weren't my sister's because these were stamped with the Wagnerware name as well which dates them to the 1950s (or older).

I strongly encourage anyone who is looking for pans to look for these.  They are still made but as part of another manufacturer.  But from all reports I have read, they are still worth the investment.  I truly could not cook the things I do without these pans.  Believe me, we all know the importance of the proper fudge pan--nothing but a Magnalite pan will do for my mama's fudge!