A Simple Life

Happy Abbey Viewer

2012-02-17T22:34:00.000-05:00

I can't stop watching this show.

Over the course of the last few weeks, almost everywhere I have gone, people have been talking about "Downton Abbey".

On facebook.

At work.

At knitting.

Friends.

Everywhere.

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So last Sunday, after my nieces went home, I sat in my soft, cozy chair with my warm, red, fuzzy blanket, and a pillow, and a cup of tea and started watching from the beginning.

That was at 2:30 p.m.

At 12:45 a.m. I forced myself to go to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~

I don't know what happened between those hours. I was sucked right into 1912-1916 England and stayed there for a very.long.time.

I don't remember eating.

I don't remember getting up from my chair. At all.

I'm amazed at how much I'm enjoying this show. And how real the characters seem to me. The casting people deserve huge raises for doing such a magnificent job.

Truly.

Go watch this show. But pack a lunch, and a dinner, because you won't be moving anytime soon.

~~~~~~~~~~

Take a moment to watch this short clip of some witty lines.

Great writing.

Joyful Heart(s)

2012-02-17T00:13:00.004-05:00

K shows such patience with me when I want to try something.

For about five minutes.

My creative juices have five minutes to flow, so they better flow fast.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I've been a bit obsessed with blowing glitter. And the logical progression on Valentine's Day?

Blowing hearts.

I love the whimsical way the hearts blow around, fluttering upside down and sideways. Some of them cluster together and others twitter all around by themselves.

They are obviously divas, needing center stage.

These photos make me think about how casually hearts are treated sometimes. Like objects you can blow away without a care for what will happen to them.

Because sometimes we give our hearts to people who don't treat them very nicely, don't we?

Especially when we're young.

I want K to guard her heart and not give it away so freely.

Easier said than done. I think we all know that.

But as I keep reminding her - she is the daughter of a King and the man worthy of her will treat her as such.

My gift to the Man for Valentine's day.

It took me about ten minutes to come up with fifty-two reasons why I love this man. I could have come up with more but there's only so many cards in a deck.

~~~~~~~~~~

He didn't know what to do with it. He thought he was supposed to read one a week for a whole year.

What?

When we were discussing this at dinner that night, I asked him how he could limit himself like that.

If he wrote down fifty-two reasons why he loved me, I would have read those in about two minutes flat.

I want to savor them, he said.

Hmmm...I want to gobble them up.

Just an idea I saw on Pinterest.

I'll use it for something someday.

I have a lot of someday photos.

I love my new mug. And it was perfect for Valentine's day.

Coffee tastes better in a pretty mug, don't you think?

Centerpiece on my dining room table right now.

Red flowers. My favorite.

~~~~~~~~~~

One of my favorite romantic movie quotes is from "Hope Floats" :

"Dancing is just a conversation between two people. Talk to me."

Pretty in Pink, or Sprinkles on my Pancakes

2012-02-13T23:34:00.000-05:00

Party pancakes.

Oh.

Yeah.

I'm not sure sissy is going to like these pictures but....

c'est. la. vie.

At auntie's house, all bets are off and we have whipped cream and sprinkles for breakfast.

After breakfast, we made stuffed owls. Or rather, D and I made stuffed owls. She asked if we could make three owls: one for her, one for her teacher, and one for E.

What a sweet heart she has, that one.

E decided she want to play basketball. She was outside with the Man.

Her and the Man came running in to tell us something.very.important.

Auntie! Auntie! I got a basket! I got a basket! AND IT SWISHED! ALL NET!

Her sissy looked up, "Shhhh! I'm sewing, E!"

Evidently it takes a lot of quiet and concentration when you're dealing with fast moving needles.

Later in the afternoon we had a "Chopped" contest. I teamed up with E for the appetizer round and with D for the dessert round.

My team won both times.

I'm a ringer.

~~~~~~~~~~

J used a wee bit too much hot sauce, or three, in his appetizer. He called them "Azteca Ruins".

Judge D needed lots of water to cool her mouth. That's why me and E won that round.

For dessert, K and E teamed up and D and I teamed up. The Man and J were judges. Our secret ingredient? Cottage cheese. Along with chocolate bits, strawberry jelly and crunchy granola bars. K and E made chocolate bars and did not use the cottage cheese.

Uh-oh, the judges aren't going to like that.

D and I made mini cheesecakes. Granola bottom, cheesecake middle, strawberry jam on top. D insisted we put a candle on it.

Judge J liked that. Said it was fancy. That's why me and D won that round.

"Chopped" is so much fun.

My mantel for St. Valentine's Day.

Pretty in pink, I say.

~~~~~~~~~~

Talking to Sissy today, I discovered something.

D is the older sister. E is the younger sister.

D does the crafting for her younger sissy. E flits around, playing with other things.

Huh.

That's a familiar song in our family.

I have to chat with D.

PB Inspired Stocking Pillow

2012-02-05T21:16:00.002-05:00

My version of PB's stocking pillow. The ladies at knitting weren't sure what I was going to do with all those little socks I had been knitting for a few weeks.

I played with them for a little bit.

Strung them out on the laundry line. Took lots of photos.

Stacked them up.

Then decided I had pittered around long enough and got busy sewing.

Gather all your materials.

Some burlap, about a yard (mine was 48" wide and 26" long),

Twine, about two feet.

Six buttons.

Three knitted socks.

A pillow (mine was 16" wide by 10" tall).

Lay out your burlap and fold it in towards the middle, making sure the edges meet in the center.

Use your pillow to custom fit the burlap. If it's too wide, trim some off the edges. I have about three inches on each side of my pillow.

Now fold the burlap over your pillow. Don't cut the burlap right at the edge of the pillow. Leave about two inches for a generous seam allowance.

Two inches was perfect. I did not want a tight fitting pillow case. My pillow slides in very easily, without lots of pushing and pulling.

Make a small cut at the edge of one side and start pulling ONE thread out. This will ensure that you have a straight edge when you cut the burlap.

Pull the thread, gathering and pulling it out further and further until you reach the other edge.

Now you have a line of open weave to cut. It almost looks like a run in a stocking.

Cut along that line and your piece is ready to sew.

We are making a big tube to put the pillow in, if that helps you envision what you are doing.

First, sew your short edges together. I used a generous one inch seam allowance. Burlap scares me. It falls apart so easily.Threads everywhere. Weave totally out of distortion. Just trust me on this. Use a generous seam allowance. You will thank me later.

Flip the piece inside out.

This next step is key to a happy sewing experience.

PIN BOTH EDGES BEFORE FOLDING IN HALF AND PINNING THEM TOGETHER.

Seriously. This will keep your burlap from moving around a lot. And burlap likes to move.

See that horrible gash in the fabric? My burlap moved. As I was cutting.

Luckily it did not ruin my pillow and I could hide it on the inside. But things might not turn out so well if you do not pin this horrible-i-love-to-move-around-and-mess-with-the-person-trying-to-sew-me burlap.

Fold the material in half and pin all the raw edges together, using the pins from the edges you just pinned.

I know all this pinning seems redundant, but it is all worth it when you sew this seam.

After you have it pinned, sew the edge with a one inch seam allowance.

Open up the seam and sew the edges down, along the folded outside edge.

Flip inside out and your tube is finished. Insert your pillow form.

Time for the finishing touches.

I laid out everything where I wanted it and pinned, pinned, pinned.

I started with the twine and, using the pillow form as a guide, pinned from one edge to the other making the twine meander along and throwing in a loop along the way.

Sew down the twine. This required a little bit of maneuvering with my machine. I ended up sewing halfway across and then going to the opposite edge and doing the same, meeting in the middle.

I tacked down the stockings at four points: the loop at the top of the stocking, the point of the toe, the heel and the front top edge of the stocking.

The last thing to do is sew on your buttons.

Measure the pillow from top to bottom and space them evenly throughout. My tube ended up being 12" tall so I placed my buttons at 3", 6", and 9".

The finished pillow.

Not exactly the same as PB.

But close enough for me.

Yup. That's what I feel when I look at this pillow.

Just Do It

2012-02-01T23:19:00.001-05:00

I love this song.

And this one. It just makes me smile.

And this makes me want to dance.

That's enough for today. Just wanted to share some of my right-now favorites.

~~~~~~~~~~

One more thing.

Do it for yourself. Do it because it will make you feel silly. Do it because it will bring a smile to your face.

Dance like no one is watching.

Pinterest Pinings

2012-01-28T18:52:00.002-05:00

I hab a code.

All I'm doing is sniffling and snorting and nose-dripping and sneezing and blowing tissues all over the place.

Yuck.

I think I sneezed fifteen times in a row this afternoon.

K blessed me the first time.

By the fourth sneeze she told me to be quiet. Evidently I was disturbing her while she was playing on her phone.

Ah-choo! Ah-choo! Ah-choo!

Excuse me, I have to go clean myself up.

~~~~~~~~~~

Some interesting things on Pinterest:

Source: flickr.com via Amy on Pinterest

I have a wee bit of an obsession with clogs. I find them at thrift stores, and flea markets, and tag sales, and friends.

I was going to spray paint them glossy red and fill them with greenery and little packages and give them away.

But not no more.

Not once I saw these cuties.

Color love.

Source: Uploaded by user via Sarah on Pinterest

I think I may need to learn how to use watercolors.

Love this.

So much.

Source: joeandcheryl.com via Racheal on Pinterest

Maybe I'll start with these.

Source: littlesooti.blogspot.com via asmplelife on Pinterest

Ah, now we're talking....glitter!

Source: Uploaded by user via asmplelife on Pinterest

Truth in Advertising

2012-01-26T00:48:00.001-05:00

It's time to 'fess up. Things are not always so simple in my simple life world.

One of the Knitwits tonight said that my blog doesn't match my person. She said my blog makes my life seem so peaceful and simple and not dramatic. And everything sounds hunky-dory. Because from where she sits, my life isn't like that.

The Knitwits get to hear most of the {not} simple stuff that happens. My blog readers get sheltered from that. Who wants to read about someone else's drama? That's what soap operas are for. I try to find things that make me happy every day. I think if you look for happy things, you'll find them. And I tend to blog about those things that make me happy.

~~~~~~~~~~

I want my life to be peaceful, and calm, and full of gentleness and thoughtfulness. I want to focus on more important things, like helping other people and serving my God. I'm trying to find ways to give back some of what we've been blessed with.

Key word? Trying. That's why my blog description says, "Trying to live a simple life in a not-so-simple world."

But sometimes life isn't so calm, is it? And things don't always run smoothly and effortlessly.

Like eating. Rapid change of subject but it will all make sense.

Eating involves food planning, and shopping, and preparation, and cooking. That is a whole lot of time for something that lasts about fifteen minutes each night. And I'm tired of spending so much time on eating.

I honestly don't care what I eat for dinner. I'm happy with a bowl of cereal. Or an egg with toast.

But the Man?

Not so much. He likes a complete meal most nights. And that's where we're running into a difference of opinion.

Which is NOT making me calm. Or happy.

Now that our children are older, they are not home for dinner a lot. So our traditional family meal time seems to have gone by the wayside. They are busy working and going to school, or out with friends, but wherever they are, most nights they are not home for dinner. Our table of five has decreased.

Two down.

Mom doesn't really care what we eat for dinner. She's told me she's happy with a peanut butter sandwich.

Three down.

I don't care what we eat for dinner anymore. I'm happy with a peanut butter sandwich.

Four down.

Uh-oh. Things aren't looking good for the Man.

~~~~~~~~~~

So J and I are out shopping last week and we are way on the other side of the big city right around dinner time. I called the Man to let him know that we probably wouldn't make it home for dinner since we still had to get through the big city to get home and it was rush hour. And since it was a Knitwits knitting night, I wouldn't eat dinner anyway since we have such yummy snacks at class.

"Well, what's for supper?" the Man asked.

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it," I replied. Remembering we had leftover pasta and salad in the refrigerator, I mentioned it to the Man. My mind was focused on the upcoming traffic jam I was sure we would be sitting in shortly.

"Oh." He didn't seem too enthusiastic about that choice.

"Well, what else is there?" he asked.

"I don't know. Look in the freezer and see what's there." I hurry across the street and get in the car. I'm starting to get a tad bit testy because I gave him a viable option for dinner and he opted out. Now I'm supposed to come up with another option?

"Just have the pasta," I said.

"Forget it. I'll figure something out," he said. And then hung up on me a bit abruptly.

J and I started for home. After about ten minutes on the highway, I told him to call his dad and ask if he wanted me to pick up the makings for tacos. I was pretty sure I would have enough time to brown some ground beef before knitting.

Let's just say that conversation didn't go so well. This is what I heard from my end of the car.

"Dad, Mom wants to know if you want us to stop and pick up taco fixings for supper?"

He listens to the Man.

"Are you going there now?"

More listening.

"Well, if you're already going to the grocery store, why don't YOU pick up taco fixings?"

Uh-oh. I know this is not going to go over well so I make the hand across the throat sign to try and stop him from this train of thinking. Too late. His mouth is already moving.

"There's no point in Mom and I stopping if you're already going there."

He looks at the phone and says, "He hung up on me."

Gee, who could see that one coming?

~~~~~~~~~~

When I get home the Man and I have a few words for each other. He tells me that his mom used to cook dinner every night when he was younger. I tell him that his mom didn't work during that time. He tells me that since I had the day off, he expected me to cook a meal. I tell him that even though I wasn't at work, I had other things to do and wasn't home all day.

Sometimes we work and don't get paid for it.

It wasn't a very pretty scene. I could feel myself getting more and more upset and knew I was going to lash out if we didn't back off immediately.

It's a good thing Sissy showed up to take me to knitting.

Fast forward a few days. And we have almost the same scenario unfolding.

This time it's K and I out shopping. She needed something for school and had to have it NOW.

So we went off to the mall right around dinner time.

After striking out at the first store, we had to go to a second store to get what she needed. Now I decide I better call the Man and let him know to go ahead and eat without us.

"Well, what's for supper?" he asked.

"Cook the scallops, throw a couple potatoes in the microwave and fix a salad," I told him.

"There's not enough scallops," he told me. "What else can we have?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" I may have said, rather heatedly.

And we hung up. On each other.

~~~~~~~~~~

I got home about one minute before he did. And I realized there weren't enough scallops. Drat.

Just as I'm trying to figure out what to have instead, the Man walks in.

"You're right, there's not enough scallops," I said to him.

"I know. What are you going to do?" I looked at him, trying to figure out if he was being serious or not.

What am I going to do? Why do I have to do anything? Why can't he do something?

"I'm going to the store to BUY MORE SCALLOPS." And I stomped out of the house.

When I got home, I flung the three bags of meat I had bought on the counter. Scallops, a pork roast, meatloaf mix, and two chickens. By golly, if he wanted dinner choices, he was going to have them.

And then it went south.

~~~~~~~~~~

What came out of our discussion? I'm not cooking any more. Unless I feel like it.

And I'm not planning meals anymore.

Most likely, I'll still do the grocery shopping.

But eating is now the Man's responsibility. Because I don't care what I eat for dinner. And he does.

To be honest, I'm not happy with myself.

I should have been more gentle, more kind. I really thought he understood where I was coming from after the first discussion.

But he didn't. And the second discussion was loud and dramatic and everything that I'm starting to dislike about this {not} simple matter.

We're going to have to figure this out. It's not fair for him to do it all. But it's not fair for me to do it all, either.

As far as my attitude, let's just say I'm not perfect.

Just forgiven.

~~~~~~~~~~

So there it is. A little bit of the {not} simple things that happen in my world.

What can I say? I'm a work in progress. And I'm working toward finding more peace and calm and stillness in my life.

Now I'm going to find something that makes me happy.

Making a Commmmmmmitment

2012-01-23T23:14:00.000-05:00

January is here, with eyes that keenly glow.

A frost mailed warrior

Striding a shadowy steed of snow.

~Edgar Fawcett

We got a wee little bit of snow this past weekend. Just enough to make it look like January.

I love the first flakes that fall down and land and stay for a little while.

Each one unique.

Each one a tiny work of art, released by God to grace our world.

Even if it is only for a moment or three.

New bedding.

Took me a long time to find. I have commitment issues when it comes to bedding.

It's too dark, or too light, or too long, or too short.

It's too girly, or too manly, or too pink, or too black.

I could not find anything that was just right. Call me Goldilocks.

Then I found this bedding.

It is a perfect blend of girly and manly, for me and the Man.

It looks very old-fashioned.

Like it was pieced together from lots of discarded materials, or old clothing, or well-used bedding.

And the pillows that went with it look like vintage French grain sacks.

I heart my new bedding.

While I was snapping a photo of my new bedding I realized the light was just right.

It's a just right kind of day.

So I made K come in and model for me.

She makes the bedding look so much prettier.

Full of smiles lately.

Her father is suspicious. He thinks she wants something.

I think she is changing back into the lovable girl she was before P-U-B-E-R-T-Y.

Looking out the window.

The light was gorgeous.

That is something I want to get better at this year. Finding the light, as Miz Booshay would say.

Mmmmm, I love my scarves.

Cleaning out a closet this weekend and I came up with an armful of scarves.

Each one has a memory attached to it so I can't part with any of them.

Some I got as gifts, some from our travels, some I made.

How can I part with any of them?

How am I supposed to de-clutter when I can't throw anything out?

It's a good thing this is the year of organization and glitter and not the year of de-cluttering.

Hanging things on the laundry line is much nicer than piling them in a heap at the bottom of the bed.

Even with my new bedding.

Say it again, Sam

2012-01-17T00:10:00.002-05:00

No pictures today.

I was too busy pinning on Pinterest. And pinning. And pinning.

I did take a break to shop with K for a little while. And make something from a pin I pinned.

*Photos will be forthcoming. (Forthcoming? Don't I sound formal?)

~~~~~~~~~~

While I was on Pinterest, I decided to peruse my boards. (Peruse? There's another five dollar word.)

Because most of the time I just pin and pin and forget to go back and look at what I've pinned.

I pin a lot of craft ideas. And recipes. And decorating inspiration.

But I also have a board called Say It Again. Things worth repeating.

~~~~~~~~~~

Quick thoughts:

Happiness is a way of travel. Not a destination.

Be so happy that when others look at you, they become happy too.

Go the extra mile. It's never crowded.

Always be kinder than you feel.

You don't have to attend every argument you're invited to.

A smart person knows what to say. A wise person knows whether or not to say it.

Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same.

If you're always racing to the next moment, what happens to the one you're in?

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Strike-me-funny things:

Am I getting older or is the supermarket playing great music?

That moment when you walk into a spider web and suddenly turn into a kung-fu master.

I was good at math until they mixed the alphabet into it.

I have CDO. It's like OCD but all the letters are in alphabetical order. As they should be.

Don' be afraid to try. Remember, amateurs built the ark. Professionals built the Titanic.

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And things that just plain make you think:

Don't look down on anyone unless you are helping them up.

You have never really lived until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.

A strong woman stands up for herself. A stronger woman stands up for everyone else.

Never confuse education with intelligence.

~~~~~~~~~~

One of my favorite quotes is from Frank Sinatra:

"I may sound old-fashioned, but I want to think all women should be treated like I want my wife, daughters, and granddaughters to be treated. I notice today that good manners—like standing up when a woman enters the room, helping a woman with her coat, letting her enter an elevator first, taking her arm to cross the street—are sometimes considered unnecessary or a throwback. These are habits I could never break, nor would I want to. I realize today a lot more women are taking care of themselves than in the past, but no woman is offended by politeness."

~~~~~~~~~~

Lots of words in this post. But worth repeating.

Be happy,

Me

Snuggling in for a long winter's night....

2012-01-11T22:45:00.001-05:00

I love coming home. From anywhere. My back porch greets me every day when I finally get home for the night. It never looks the same. I change things around.

A lot.

Depending on the season.

Right now, it's all silver and white and glittery. Like ice.

I pick things up here and there, mixing and matching through the years until I find a combination I like.

And I like this one.

It's got glitter.

I think this is the year of glitter. As well as the year of organization.

~~~~~~~~~~

I should probably organize my glitter.

Ha.

I got this star a few years ago and it was bright and shiny and sparkly.

Now? Not so bright. But still shiny and sparkly. I can't bear to throw it out. So it sits on my back porch.

No longer an inside item.

Poor little sparkly star who lost its brightness.

You still make me happy. Outside on the porch.

Newest member to the glitter and sparkle club. Miss Shiny Star hangs on the porch wall, catching glints of sunlight from the morning sun. I always turn around to look at her when I leave for the day.

So pretty.

After Christmas sale. Dirt cheap. Best kind of bargain there is.

What's going on inside the house?

Just the best bargain I have ever found at a thrift store.

Sissy and I were out today, poking around in a few stores, and as soon as I saw this blanket, I knew it had to come home with me.

I love granny square afghans.

I will probably never make a granny square afghan. Too much work.

Nana made a granny square afghan.

Once.

Too much work. She said she'd never make one again.

I guess I'm not getting one out of her. Not that I run a granny sweat shop or anything.

So when I saw this blanket, I said, "Oh my, yes, you have a new home. Come with me, granny square afghan."

The price?

$4.99

Unbelievable.

~~~~~~~~~~

When I think about all the hours the person who crocheted this afghan put into it, I feel sad that it wound up in a thrift store, selling for $4.99.

So a message to the person-who-crocheted-my-new-afghan: You can rest easy. Your lovely afghan has found a new home, one that's filled with love for it.

It will be used.

Thank you for making my blanket.

The Year of Organization

2012-01-09T23:21:00.001-05:00

My new recipe box. I love it.

A friend has a long, narrow wooden box that she uses for holding her recipes and she leaves it on the counter. Right where you need it.

It looks wonderfully old and broken in and used.

But it took her a looooong time to find the perfect size box. I've been looking for about a year and finally found one. It's not a perfect fit, but it's close enough to what I wanted. Now all I need to do is make some pretty dividers.

And clean it out. Too many recipes. Not enough cooking.

~~~~~~~~~~

This is the year of organization.

Of course, I say that every year.

But this year I mean it.

Organizing is what you do before you do something, so that when you do it, it is not all mixed up.

~A.A. Milne

Glitter My World

2012-01-03T22:53:00.003-05:00

I'm obsessing over glitter right now.

It started with a photo I saw somewhere on the Internet. And fell in love with all the color exploding from the model's hand.

So when my nieces slept over this weekend, and we had party stuff all over the place, I decided to get out the glitter.

Don't you just love all that color?

I do!

The girl behind that purple mask.

My niece, D, the Russian princess.

Doesn't she look like she belongs in Dr. Zhivago with that furry sweater?

And I like her Mona Lisa smile. Very mysterious.

When my sissies and I were younger, much younger, we used to spend every New Year's eve at Nan's house. We would spend all day getting that house ready for the party. Blowing up balloons, making treats and snacks to eat, putting together the punch - we did the kids punch. Uncle T always made the adult punch.

You can imagine why.

Then Nan would bring out her party box. Full of party stuff like horns, and noisemakers, and hats, and masks. All kinds of stuff that seems so fun when you're a kid.

It didn't take much for me to convince my nieces that we had to go shopping at the dollar store for New Year's eve stuff.

It was time to have my own party box.

Thirty five dollars later and I'm the proud owner of a dozen hats, tiaras, and clown caps; feather masks, sequin masks, and metallic masks; Mardi Gras beads; a couple dozen horns and noisemakers; and some leftover pieces of confetti. Or graffiti, as the Man calls it.

I can't wait to pull it out next year.

The other girl behind the mask, my other niece, E.

I love this photo.

I love her eyes. Very distracted eyes. She's thinking about something other than blowing glitter.

Finally Mom came home.

She went waaaaay over the river and through the woods to my sissy-in-law's house for the holidays.

And had a marvelous time.

But I was very happy to meet halfway in the woods to collect her and bring her home. Actually, the Man did the driving. I did the knitting.

All is right in my world.

ForEvergreens

2011-12-30T01:02:00.007-05:00

Pulled out the blue wintry table runner. I'm starting to hibernate...

Cause

baby

it's

cold

outside.

Time for the warm, wooly blankets to come out. And my yarn stash.

I'm back to knitting.

I finally finished (well, P, my knitting teacher finished it for me...she knit the handles together with a kitchener stitch...a horribly confusing set of stitches that connects pieces and you need a video to help you get through it and a glass of wine) a market tote bag I started about a year or so ago. She had it felted for me a few days later and now it's my new project bag.

The next project is a pillow I saw at a famous-but-will-remain-nameless retail shop.

I refuse to pay gobs of hard earned cash for a pillow.

But I love this pillow. So I have to make it.

You can see one of the little stockings above, next to my newly felted bag. I'll post photos of the finished project.

When it's finished.

In the meantime, the photo below (courtesy of pb) shows the pillow I love.

Had dinner tonight with a good friend, G. We were both bachelorettes for the dinner hour and decided to get a burger at the local burger joint.

Oh me, oh my. Best burger ever. Pepperjack cheese, crispy onion straws and homemade guacamole.

Wow. I love this combination. I really love this combination.

Try it. You'll like it. What commercial was that from?

After dinner, we stopped at a gift store and found their holiday florals, and wreaths, and garlands marked down by 70%. Unbelievable. We were like kids in a candy shop. Each item looked prettier than the next. We had armloads before we even blinked.

I found four new {for}evergreen trees to display for the grand total of $25.

Now that's a bargain. I can't wait to tell the Man how much money I saved him.

Birthday Celebration, aka Christmas Day

2011-12-28T23:30:00.002-05:00

I don't when I started doing this but I always take a picture of the tree on Christmas eve with all the presents underneath.

Lights out in the house.

Just the lit tree.

And then I leave it on all night. The Man told me this is what his mom used to do on Christmas eve.

I like that. Makes the house look very cozy and warm and welcoming all night long.

Christmas morning.

Gifts had been opened. And put away.

The dog lying on his new-ish dog bed. The bed was four days old. I'm giving it two weeks.

Two weeks before it's turned into a small ball of fluff.

He eats his dog beds. This is about the twenty-seventh dog bed we've had in twelve years. He and his sister, Sissy's last dog, also jointly chewed a few of her beds. We were dog-sitting one weekend and when we came home, the library was filled with floating fluff and no sign of fabric anywhere. Bed was gone and both dogs were slinking around. We still don't know what took place while we were out.

But he hasn't had a bed in a long time. And he's getting old. The floor is hard. So I took pity on him and bought him {another} dog bed.

I should just take a twenty dollar bill and throw it out the window.

Remember this? K's new knit stocking that I made for her after last Christmas. J and the Man got new stockings too.

Oh boy, do they stretch out. I kept stuffing and stuffing and stuffing and still didn't fill the stockings. There was so much room left I could have put their presents in there as well.

J saw the Man's stocking stretched waaaaaay out, held it up and said, "This isn't a Christmas stocking. It's a Christmas leg." The thing stretched from the floor to above his hip.

Uh-oh. I'll never be able to completely fill these things.

*Note to self - make next set of stockings out of non-stretching yarn. Using non-stretching stitches.

My new favorite finger dessert.

Oreo Fudge Bars

1 16 oz. package of Oreo cookies
1 stick butter, melted
1/4 tsp salt
1 (14 oz) can sweetened condensed milk
1 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup milk chocolate chips
Couple handfuls of chopped walnuts, maybe 1/2 cup

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Line 9x13 pan with foil and lightly spray with PAM. In food processor, crush the cookies. If you don't have a food processor, roll out cookies in a zip baggie with a rolling pin until the cookies are fine crumbs. Add the salt to the crumbs and stir to combine. Melt butter and gently stir together with the cookie crumb mixture. Press firmly into the bottom of the prepared pan.

Over a double boiler or in the microwave, melt 1/2 cup semi-sweet and 3/4 cup milk chocolate chips together with the condensed milk and vanilla. I microwaved this mixture on very low power for about 2 minutes. Stir frequently until smooth. Spread evenly over the prepared cookie crust.

Sprinkle 1/4 semi-sweet chocolate chips, 1/4 cup milk chocolate chips, and the chopped walnuts over the top of the filling. Press down gently into the chocolate topping. Bake for 20-22 minutes. Allow to cool on counter for one hour. Chill in fridge until completely cold and set before cutting into bars.

Don't make this if you are alone in the house. You will eat them all. Danger, Will Robinson.

M gave me the greatest table runner. It's filled with tomtes.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

Happy birthday, dear Jesus.

Christmas Vignettes

2011-12-27T23:12:00.001-05:00

White chocolate covered cherries. Can you say "yum"?

When I saw this idea on Pinterest (and yes, I get a LOT of ideas from Pinterest), I knew I was going to make them for Christmas.

Why?

Because they are a fairly healthy treat. Being mostly cherry.

And they are red and white. My two favorite colors at Christmas.

That's a win-win in my book.

K dresses like an elf when she wraps Christmas presents.

And she sings.

Although she probably would not admit this to anyone.

Her mother thinks she sings pretty nicely.

I told my niece that she looked like an Old Navy model on Christmas eve.

I love that hat.

She looks very European in that hat. Come to think of it, she lives closer to Europe than any of the rest of us.

I finally got the NOEL sign made.

Actually, the Man made the sign for me. He was home a few days before Christmas and was at odds with himself. As Nana would say, "He had an egg and didn't know where to lay it."

Kind of looking for trouble, if you know what I mean.

So I decided to give him a project. I didn't let him know he would be c-r-a-f-t-i-n-g.

I told him how I wanted it to look and let him have free rein with the glue, my hot glue gun, and some spray paint.

Love it. He did a great job, didn't he?

J gave P a cute gift on Christmas eve. Another Pinterest idea.

J and I took a bunch of pictures, with his arms posed in all kinds of positions, and pieced them together to form a heart.

I think she liked it.

~~~~~~~~~~

Some things I want to remember about this Christmas:

Going to see The Nutcracker for the first time, just K and I. It was magical and wondrous and I felt like a kid again.

Finding joy in the smallest pleasures of the season...listening to K sing a Christmas carol......seeing J wrap his gifts in a horrendous fashion.....enjoying a glass of mulled wine with the Man while watching "It's a Wonderful Life".......hand stitching some ornaments for friends. As my kids would say, It's all good.

Deciding that my favorite night of the season is December 23rd. The anticipation is still building, but the holiday is close enough to feel.

Cutting out a lot of the baking I used to do. We don't need it. And I get mad when I end up throwing it out after Christmas.

Changing my attitude about gift-giving and decorating. I'm going to go with "less is more" next year.

Favorite discovery of the season? Doing photo cards for the first time. And loving them.

Take This Show on the Road

2011-12-20T22:42:00.000-05:00

Our Knitwits Christmas party was last night.

These women are insane. Funny. Sweet. Full of love and support and hugs.

We laughed, we sang, we ate, and ate some more. We opened presents. Passed on recipes. A fantastically fun night was had by all.

At least by me.

Except three of us weren't there. Two of those haven't been coming lately. And we're fortunate to see them once every other month.

But the third missing one is a regular. And she was missed. A lot.

I started bringing small packages for each Knitwit the very first year I went to a Christmas party.

Party favors.

Who doesn't like to get a party favor at a party?

This year's package was a linen Christmas dishtowel. And a handmade ornament by yours truly.

I love them. I found the idea on Pinterest and knew I had to make them from some wool sweaters I repurposed after felting.

See? I actually do some of the stuff I pin.

This was what my Secret Santa gave me!

Matryoshka dolls!

Can you tell how excited I am by all the exclamation points?

Truly, I love these dolls. I started collecting them about twenty years ago, when J was just a little guy. And I don't have any like this at all. And my Secret Santa must have known that. Guess who my Secret Santa was?

My very own dear friend, M!

More exclamation points.

I suspected her from the beginning. Each gift was absolutely perfect for me. She's such a doll.

Ha. Doll.

Get it? She gave me dolls.

I make myself laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Queen brought sheet music to the party so we could have a carol sing. We sat around the dining room table, singing our little hearts out. We sound great. Especially after a glass of wine. Or a cup of eggnog.

We sang half a dozen songs or so, each note getting a bit more wonky as we sang and finally closed with "Silent Night". Only some of us misbehaved.

After singing the first verse, those ill-behaved Knitwits didn't want to sing any more verses. So the Queen said, "Second verse!"

You know what they said?

"Second verse, same as the first!" And broke into "Henry the Eighth" in perfect harmony.

Unbelievable.

Where else have you heard "Silent Night" and "Henry the Eighth" sung as a round?

Yesterday's Movies/Today's Technology

2011-12-17T23:52:00.000-05:00

Not much going on today. Feeling a touch under the weather. Enough to keep us home from a Christmas party.

Snuggled in a cozy chair with my soft, cuddly, red furry blanket and a cup of tea.

Watched Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant. Twice.

Bringing Up Baby.

The Philadelphia Story.

Kate and Cary are very funny together. I wish there were more actors like them today.

And writers. We need better writers. Writers that don't resort to potty, wash-your-mouth-out-with-soap humor. I do not like sitting down to watch a movie and finding I have to turn it off within the first fifteen minutes because of awkward situations or bad language.

I wish that bar had never gotten lowered.

On the funny side of the street, my dad got an iPhone a few days ago.

He's been crank calling all of us, trying to figure it out. He called me twice one night and couldn't hear me either time. I called him back to find out what was going on.

"Did you just call me?" I asked him.

"Well, I called you twice. But I couldn't hear it ring. So I don't know if I actually called you," he answered.

"It only rang once. And there was no one on the other end so I hung up," I told him.

"Huh. Are the kids home? I was hoping they could answer some questions for me."

But they weren't home. So I had to send him to Sissy and P. Sorry Sissy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Fast forward a couple days and he now knows how to text. Sort of. He's been texting the kids all day.

He hasn't quite figured out auto-correct so K's getting some pretty funny messages from him. I told her she should start her own blog, "Texts My Grampa Sends Me".

She's been smiling all night. Thanks, Dad.

Gingerbread Plans, or how we made Hansel and Gretel's house

2011-12-14T23:17:00.002-05:00

We changed it up a bit this year. Sissy and I have been making the same style gingerbread house for years.

Lots of years.

But this year I got it in my head to make a different style house. A Swiss chalet, to be exact.

Kind of reminds me of a cross between Hansel and Gretel's house and a house we used to rent at the beach when we were very young.

Let's just say it wasn't my most thought out idea.

Oh, these pictures make it look so easy putting these houses together.

It wasn't.

The angles were hard to work with. They didn't want to hold each other up at all.

As a matter of fact, they were very uncooperative.

They kept wanting to fall. Away from each other.

And the roofs. Ack.

They started caving in under the weight of the candy. Some of us put more weight on our roofs than others. Those caved in more. But they didn't break. And they stopped sagging at some point and are now holding their own.

Sissy wasn't too happy with me for changing things around. She kept muttering things like, "What were you thinking?" and "We're not doing this again EVER. We're going back to the regular houses next year," and "I'm not listening to you again."

Poor Other Sissy and my niece, M, came to do gingerbreads with us.

They didn't know what they had gotten themselves into.

Somehow, it all came together.

Just like I knew it would.

~~~~~~~~~~

You gotta have faith, Sissy.

I didn't do anything to our house this year, except bake the pieces a few days before with Sissy.

K did all the piping, and designing, and decorating.

And all the sass.

Yes, she does all the sass around here.

The front of P's house.

I love the "Merry Christmas" over the front door.

Don't be surprised if this photo shows up on a Christmas card next year.

I love it so.

~~~~~~~~~~

What we learned:

Don't mess with success.....next year we're going back to the standard house design.

Don't be afraid to try something new.....it was hard work at first, but it all turned out in the end.

It takes a lot to make something go from bending to breaking.....things are stronger than they look.

Don't shop for candy on an empty stomach.....well, you can guess why that's been included.

The Perfect Christmas Gift

2011-12-12T23:21:00.003-05:00

Just sitting in front of the Christmas tree, listening to Handel's Messiah, and giving thanks for such a perfect holiday moment.

Quiet amidst the chaos.

Peace among the busy-ness.

Driving home a few nights ago, I headed toward the center of town. It was just dark, the stars were out and the moon was high in the sky. I could see some white twinkling lights up ahead and found the fire department all decked out with lights outlining the building and covering the shrubs in front.

Oh, how pretty. Boy, they sure did a nice job decorating this year.

Then I rounded a curve, coming up to the town green.

And saw so. many. lights.

The gazebo, where our high schoolers all gather before the prom, was home to a small Christmas tree, lit with white lights. Evergreens all around it were strung with more white lights. I could just make out the tomtes in front of the Scandinavian shop behind the gazebo. Shining brightly, the whole scene was a beacon to travelers passing through our small town. All we needed was a little bit of snow to make it into a perfect Christmas card.

At the other end of the town green, a tall pine tree stood, lit with thousands of colored lights. Lights strung along its long, sloping branches and winding up the trunk at the base of the tree. With the backdrop of an inky black sky scattered with hundreds of stars across the heavens, the lone pine tree stood sentinel, announcing Christmas is coming! Christmas is coming! to all driving by.

Oh my. I wanted to stop the car and just stare at our lovely town green. On the radio, a familiar instrumental Christmas song came on, filling the car with its soft melody, lifting my spirit and bringing with it such complete feelings of contentment.

Content that I could find the spirit of Christmas in a moment.

Not in a thing.

I think I've discovered the perfect Christmas gift.

Moments. Burned into memory, to be pulled out years from now and enjoyed again and again.

We sponsor a Christmas tree at the library to benefit a local shelter for abused women and their children.

They have nothing.

And need everything.

Every year I am amazed at the generosity of our patrons.

Guess what we did a couple weeks ago?

Gingerbreads!

Just a quick look at the construction of the Swiss chalet style homes. Can you see Santa hiding in the house that K is putting the final wall on?

More photos to come...

Finally put together the order for K's senior pics.

Getting ready to ship them out with the Christmas photo cards. As soon as they get here.

Ack! Hope it's soon. Christmas is in less than two weeks....

All I Want for Christmas...

2011-12-08T23:41:00.011-05:00

Nan carries this picture around with her in her wallet.

We didn't even know it existed.

I love it. A perfect family photo. Everyone's smiling and looking at the camera.

My dad is on the far left, the guy in the groovy Indian chief sweater. Next to him is Gramps, holding Aunt N. Nan is sitting next to Gramps, holding Uncle J, and Uncle T is the fashionable little guy in the snowflake sweater. Uncle T is the guy who owns the beach house we get to visit each summer.

Me and Uncle T.

I can see that cute little guy in him.

I wonder if he still has that snowflake sweater?

----------

I ordered photo cards this year for Christmas. That's a huge deal for me.

I always include a photo of J and K in our Christmas cards, so it's not the photo that's huge.

It's the format.

I've been pooh-poohing photo cards for the past few years, thinking it was the easy way out of sending Christmas greetings.

Because some people only send the photo card. No note, no handwritten greeting, not even a signature. Just a typed "Merry Christmas from the Can't-Be-Bothered-to-Write-Cards Family"

But I saw this great idea on Pinterest and immediately Changed. My. Ways.

All I want for Christmas are photo cards.

----------

I still think they are the easy way out but I'm going to write a little note on the back of my photo cards. So if you send me a photo card, please sign it.

I like the handwritten touch.

But finding this photo of my dad and his family from a Christmas long ago made me realize just how important those photo cards will be years from now.

Thanks, Nan.

Secret Santa, or how to be a kid again

2011-12-08T00:02:00.004-05:00

I found some red ceramic berry baskets last winter and fell in love with their bright and cheer-y red color. You can find white baskets at Sur La Table, where I found the red ones.

I filled this basket with soda cracker candy and brought it to a friend.

Soda cracker candy. Oh me, oh my. Finger lickin' candy perfection.

I call it soda cracker candy and not saltine toffee candy. The friend who gave me the recipe was from Australia and that's what she always called it. And her recipe doesn't call for you to spread the chocolate bits after letting them sit for five minutes.

She just sprinkled them over the toffee layer, along with the nuts, and let them cool. Much easier than spreading chocolate.

I found this idea on Pinterest.

I have everything I need.

Except time.

Maybe this weekend.

Pretty little girl angel.

My {very} adorable Secret Santa gift from knitting last week.

She has six sisters waiting in their package to come out and perch in my tree.

Her sweet little face makes me smile every time I walk by and see her sitting there, getting ready to burst into song.

Thank you, Secret Santa.

I love them so.

The Queen had a new elf hat waiting for her when she got to knitting tonight.

How do you think she really felt about this hat? She's not expressive at all, is she?

She was such a good sport and wore it the entire time she handed out presents to everyone.

Secret Santa is so. much. fun.

Makes you feel like a kid again, waiting while everyone takes a turn opening their gift. Wondering what your gift will be. Turning it around and around. Shaking it.

But not too hard.

Something could break.

PKB and MG having fun with their....their.....their.....mitts?

PKB is knitting those red mittens for her daughter. They have pointy heads and look a little bit like the coneheads from Saturday Night Live, oh-so-very many years ago. But, shhhhh! I'm not telling her that.

MG got a wonderful silicon pot holder mitt from her Secret Santa.

Big Blue and Red seem to get along very well. They were having quite a conversation together for a while.

Until the next person wanted to open their gift.

I can't wait for next week.

Chasing Cranberries

2011-12-02T23:58:00.004-05:00

Nan was around for Thanksgiving this year.

We haven't celebrated Thanksgiving with her for many years, since she started flying south for the winter. But with my aunt's passing a couple months ago, she was grounded here for a little while.

So we got to spend some time with her. And coerced her into helping us make the stuffing for the bird.

It is her stuffing, after all.

She and Sissy toasted their little hearts out, while I cooked the salt pork and onions. Sissy had to leave when the toasting was finished so she didn't get to participate in the taste testing.

Which is the best part.

I added all the seasonings, mixed and stirred until my arms hurt. K mixed a while for me. And then we got to taste it.

I gave Nan a spoonful. She smiled.

And said, "That's good."

I loved hearing her say that.

Sissy makes fun of me for taking pictures like this. She thinks I'm a faker. She says, "Oh, I bet you're going to put that in your blog, and say something like, 'The next generation is learning how to make the stuffing.'"

Yup. I am.

Because she is.

Corralling cranberries and trying to get them into that teeny tiny opening at the top of the food processor was not easy.

They kept spilling out of my hands. Hitting the counter.

Bouncing all over the place.

Who knew cranberries bounced so much?

I chased cranberries for quite a while, trying to make the cranberry orange relish. Which is oh-so-tasty and worth the time I spent chasing cranberries.

It made me think of my mom and I wondered if she ever chased cranberries around the kitchen.

I was home alone.

The kids had gone out with friends. The Man was visiting a friend. Mom was with friends. I was home cooking. And feeling a little bit sorry for myself. Doing all the work. Alone. Thinking about mom. Feeling a wee bit weepy. Wishing I had spent more time helping her prepare some of these important meals. Sentimental and nostalgic for the past.

But then I got over it.

And gave thanks for all that I had been blessed with. Plentiful food. Memories of a wonderful childhood. Warm house. Loving family.

Nope. No more feeling sorry for myself.

Thanksgiving morning. Walking with the Man.

Beautiful sunny, crisp morning. Frosty touches everywhere. Sun shining, illuminating fallen maple leaves.

And a discarded rose on the side of the road.

Lots of spectators when the turkey comes out of the oven.

Lots of sneaky hands, stealing pieces of meat, when the turkey comes out of the oven.

Good thing I was documenting all this thievery.

Tablecloth is an old quilt I've had for close to twenty years. It's ancient. And deteriorating.

But I don't want it stuck in a box, hidden away, feeling unneeded.

What's the point to that?

It looks much better on my table than in a scruffy brown cardboard box.

Blowing glitter.

Doesn't everyone do this during the Thanksgiving weekend?

A Little Corner of the World

2011-11-15T23:54:00.002-05:00

Walking around the yard, surveying all the damage from the snowstorm a couple weeks ago, I found some ornamental grass that had gone to seed.

It looked like jellyfish, floating amidst seaweed. I blew on it to see what would happen.

Nothing.

That's some hearty seed on those things.

I couldn't stop looking at it. Or blowing on it, watching it wave gently in the air.

The neighbors probably think I'm odd.

Don't you think it looks like jellyfish?

I always forget about this bush, right in the front of the house.

Just when I think all the color in the yard is gone, its leaves pop out - bright, cheery red - greeting visitors coming to the front door.

I love the barn. Er, garage. Sorry, Dad, I know you hated it when we would call it a barn.

I love the way the lights line up in the windows.

I love how cheerful it looks on a gray, gloomy November day.

~~~~~~~~~~

Just a few scenes from around our little place in the world.

I've missed shooting for fun.

I'm so happy, I could do a handspring.

Well, maybe not.

Slowing Down

2011-11-12T23:33:00.000-05:00

Weekend with the nieces. It's been a long time since they've had a sleepover at Auntie's house. Sissy and I can't seem to coordinate our calendars to find open weekends with nothing to do.

Ha.

Nothing to do.

Is there ever such a time?

Even when I find moments of nothing to do, I feel the need to fill it with something. A drawer to clean out, laundry to throw in the washer, papers to sort. Surely, there's something to do every moment. Isn't that what our society tells us? Hurry up and finish one thing to get to the next, to get to the next, to get to the next. Until our time is gone.

That doesn't sound good.

I'm trying to find my way to a different sort of thinking.

Slowing down. Living in the moment. Enjoying small moments. Stretching time out a bit.

I'm reading a book by Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts. Good stuff. Here's a tiny bit:

“Being in a hurry. Getting to the next thing without fully entering the thing in front of me. I cannot think of a single advantage I've ever gained from being in a hurry. But a thousand broken and missed things, tens of thousands, lie in the wake of all the rushing.... Through all that haste I thought I was making up time. It turns out I was throwing it away.”

So this weekend was a chance to stop being in a hurry. To sit down and sew with my nieces. And be patient when they rushed ahead of my direction.

To show them how to fix a mistake. And that it's okay to make mistakes.

We all do.

Wouldn't it be great if life came with a seam ripper and you could rip out the mistakes you made that jumbled things up?

And get a chance to redo them, the way you should have done them the first time around?

Owl bags.

Sweet little ladies, full of color and personality.

Just like the sweet little ladies that created them.

These girls are so.much.fun.

They make me laugh. And think. And remember my own when they were that young.

They make me thankful for small things, like making fritters on a Saturday morning.

Enjoying a good meal surrounded by people you love, and people who love you, too.

And electricity. I'm still so thankful for electricity.

It's a Simple Life

2011-11-08T00:57:00.003-05:00

One of these things just doesn't belong.

We still had fall colors to enjoy, for Pete's sake. Look at those gorgeous golds and yellows on the leaves.

Not no more, sistah.

Once the snow started falling, the leaves got covered and then they fell down, down, down.

The Man had just finished parking the tractor when these tiny flurries came blowing in. He was able to finish mowing the lawn and picking up leaves and mulching the garden for winter before the snows fell.

Only it's not winter. It's fall. And it's barely begun. Halloween was still three days away when this stuff blew in.

When all was said and done, we got about eight inches of snow. Doesn't sound too bad, does it? We had a whole lot more snow than that dumped on us last winter. Eight inches should be cake.

Except it wasn't. This was heavy, wet snow that weighed down tree branches and whole trees. Some of them aren't coming back.

Remember that birch in our front yard? The one we give the stink eye to during any windy, blowy type of storm?

Not a peep out of that tree. Still standing, tall and straight. I don't think it even lost a branch, maybe just a few twigs.

But the other trees? Not so good.

Japanese maple? Bent almost in half. Several large limbs torn off, huge gaping holes in it now.

Hemlock tree next to driveway? Let's just say I'm really glad that our cars were parked in the garage or they'd have been buried under the rather large limb that ripped off. Probably would have crushed a roof or two had our cars been there.

Several oak trees in the backyard? Large branches and limbs now lying in the yard. The Man had to buy a chainsaw to clean it all up.

We still had the summer furniture out. Flowers were still blooming.

This was crazy.

When I snapped this photo, I had no idea that the cozy light emanating from my neighbor's house was going to be THE LAST LIGHT WE WOULD SEE FOR EIGHT DAYS.

I discovered several things during this power outage, number one being that I really do hate camping.

I am not Pioneer Barbie.

I am Electric Barbie. And Shower Barbie. And Flush the Toilet Barbie. And Technology Barbie.

The night it snowed, the Man made lasagna for dinner. He made a delicious sauce to use in the lasagna, with a secret ingredient.

Red wine. Yum.

The lights flickered while it was baking. We weren't sure it was going to finish before we lost power.

Yes, we figured we would lose power. But we also figured it would be back relatively quickly. Ha.

It finished baking and we got to enjoy it, and even clean up the kitchen and the dishes, before the lights went out.

While the snows fell, and the wind blew, and the trees started creaking, we were snug and warm in the house, enjoying a glass of wine.

Snap.

Lights out.

Uh-oh. Find the flashlights. Where'd we put the candles? Where's the lantern?

Brrrrr. It's chilly. Better get some wood and start a fire, just until the lights come back. Surely they'll be back by morning.

Not. As my kids would say.

For the next eight days, we waited for the power to come back.

It was horrible. The first few days were very difficult. We couldn't get gas because the gas stations had no power. The grocery stores weren't open right away. Entire towns had no power. We didn't open the library for four days. No power meant no heat and no internet.

It was like playing Survivor. Only people were much nicer.

There was a great sense of community during the week, with many conversations in gas lines, and when the grocery stores opened, in those lines as well.

We commiserated with one another and offered to share whatever resources we had that others didn't. When the library finally opened, people came in to charge cell phones and laptops. They sat for hours, playing games, keeping warm. Strangers chatted with each other over cups of hot coffee, laughing and sharing tips and ideas for getting through this difficult time. Older women gave younger girls impromptu knitting lessons. Business people used the meeting rooms as makeshift offices, finding refuge from their cold offices in our warm library.

So much goodwill.

It was some kind of wonderful.

Life became much simpler, but also much harder.

Water was oh. so. important.

Keeping our buckets filled was a part time job. We had one of them under a downspout, collecting water from the melting snow on the roof. We used water from the creek in the backyard for the toilets. A neighbor let us use his outside faucet to get clean water for bathing and cooking - it's chlorinated water from the water company.

Just getting gas and food and other supplies gave me a sense of accomplishment - I had taken care of my family, at least for the time being. I'm sure the Man felt the same way after he and J cut wood for the fireplace, or lugged five gallon buckets of water for the toilets and our baths back to the house.

Bath night was big. We did that every other night. In between, we would search around and find friends who had generators and could offer a warm shower.

We got a bit dehydrated since we didn't want to have to use the toilet as much. One day, K took a swig out of her bottle of water and said, "That's another flush now. Great."

Basic needs. That's what it came down to during those first few days.

But you know what?

Life goes on. And we had to figure out a new normal, until the power returned.

We went back to work, and J went to school. K was off for the week. There were so many trees down, blocking lanes, and lying across power lines that the buses couldn't get through. It was dangerous driving during those first days. Cracked telephone poles had people hurrying past, just in case they decided to come down NOW. Power lines lay littered on the side of the road, like pieces of trash thrown out a car window. You couldn't count the number of downed lines - there were so many.

The days were fairly normal, outside of the whole no water, no power thing. But the nights were a bit more stressful.

For one thing, it gets dark early which makes for a long night. I fell asleep in my chair one night while working my knitted afghan. I had just glanced at the clock and saw it was 8:00 p.m. and then I nodded off. I woke up a while later, feeling like I has slept for a good amount of time. Thinking it must be 10:00 p.m. or so, I started to get up to go to bed when I looked at the time. It was 8:05.

Five minutes? That's it? Boy, time was slow in the evening.

After several days of silence in the long, dark evenings, I finally remembered that the library lends cassette player/radios so I went and borrowed one. I was lucky to find a package of batteries to run the thing.

We had some {happy} campers once we got the radio. We were sick of our own voices. For the next several nights we listened to some great jazz on NPR. I also borrowed some old time radio shows from the 1940s to listen to. I don't know what was more fun, listening to the shows or listening to the kids' comments during the shows. I was pleasantly surprised that K recognized Cary Grant's voice.

Cell phones weren't working, phone lines were down. It was hard to reach anyone.

Sissy was able to get a message through on facebook that she and my brother in law had gone to get my dad and bring him to their house. We visited them several times since they had borrowed a generator and had lights and TV and refrigeration.

It was nice to spend so much time with family, talking with Sissy and P (my BIL) and Dad at her house. Having the kids hang out in the living room with us in the evening. Mom coming out of her room and sitting with us, since it was so much warmer by the fire.

We watched traffic go by. Literally.

It was very exciting to see car lights. Any lights. We checked to see if they were bucket trucks going by, from the power company, on their way to fix our power.

So much damage. And destruction.

I don't know what a real war zone looks like, but this is how I imagine it.

Remember the lasagna the Man made?

A funny thing happened to that lasagna.

We had two-thirds of it leftover the day after the storm so I decided to heat it up on the grill for dinner that night. I had the pan on the counter, using a spatula to cut the lasagna in half, getting ready to wrap the pieces in aluminum foil.

As I cut the piece in half, I didn't realize the pan was inching it's way close to the edge of the counter. I made my last cut and watched in horror as the pan tipped off the counter and fell down, down, down into the bucket of creek water sitting on the floor right underneath.

I can only imagine that the look on my face matched the look on the Man's face as we both realized what had just happened.

I grabbed it out of the water as fast as I could, thinking what? That I was going to be able to salvage it?

Nope. Not happening.

The dog got the rest of the lasagna. And was sick all night long.

Oy vey.

Isn't that an appropriate book to read during a power outage?

I've just about finished my afghan. One more color to add to the end and then I can cast off.

Phew.

That's been just about a two year project.

But oh-so-worth-it. I love the colors and it kept me very warm in the evenings. I would spread it out over my lap and knit all evening.

So much smoke from the woodstoves and fireplaces, it caused a haze.

There was an air advisory issued, gosh Pete. That's some smoky air.

There's No Place Like Home

2011-11-05T23:20:00.000-04:00

No pictures in this posting. No nothing.

Because we've had no power for a week.

Yuck.

That means no running water. No showers. No toilet. No dishwasher, or washing machine, or dryer.

No heat.

No TV. No computer or cell phones or even gasoline.

I thought the world might be ending.

~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, that was a little dramatic. But it really did feel like life as we knew it had changed.

I jotted down a bunch of things that happened this week. And I have a few photos to share.

But not tonight.

Tonight, I'm at Sissy's house. A refugee looking for a powered haven. She got hers back this evening so K and I packed up our belongings, and week old laundry, and electronics that needed charging, and sheets and pillows and high-tailed it over the river and through the woods to Sissy.

And you know what?

As soon as we got here, my cell phone rang and we found out we had power at home.

See? I went through all that packing just to make sure that we got power back tonight. The Man better appreciate that.

~~~~~~~~~~

So I'll share a bit of our life this past week when I post tomorrow. When I'm sitting in my chair, in my living room, in my home.

Because there really is no place like home.

A Mother's Dilemma

2011-10-28T23:55:00.002-04:00

Playing with the ISO last night in the snowstorm. That's a whisper, in case you can't tell.

It was pitch dark outside, with just one porch light illuminating behind me. I kicked up the ISO to 6000, opened up the aperture wide and hoped for the best.

Depth of field is very small. But there's plenty of light. And grain. Can't forget the grain when the ISO is that high.

{But it beats not getting the shot at all.}

And some sad looking mums. I think they're in shock at the snow falling around them.

J was target practicing this week. He let me look over his shoulder and take a few photos.

I was trying to get it just right, when he let go of the arrow. Startled me enough that I jumped back.

Evidently you can't hold an arrow back long enough for someone to take their sweet time setting up the perfect shot. As he informed me when I said, "Why'd you shoot?"

Oh. I didn't think of that.

~~~~~~~~~~

A friend of mine has a dilemma.

She has three daughters - the oldest is a senior in college, the middle one is a senior in high school, and the youngest is a freshman in high school.

When her oldest was a senior in high school, my friend did NOT buy an ad in the yearbook, the sole purpose being to wish her daughter the best as she walked off into her future. It was her oldest, for Pete's sake. You don't know anything with the first one.

{As I found out the next year when J was a senior. And I didn't buy an ad in the yearbook for him. And now I don't know what to do with K.}

But my friend wants to buy the middle daughter an ad. She checked with the oldest daughter, who said she doesn't care.

For all you moms out there, you know the kind of dilemma this is causing.

It's the keep-everything-fair-and-even dilemma.

If she buys the ad for the middle daughter, what's she going to do with the youngest?

If she buys an ad for the youngest, the oldest will be the only one without a yearbook ad.

If she doesn't buy an ad for the youngest, then the middle child will be the only one who got an ad. Then the other two will feel that the middle child is Mom's favorite.

Which you know is what every child thinks when they suspect one is being favored over the others.

~~~~~~~~~~

This has been the topic of many discussions lately and she still doesn't know what she's going to do. She thought about putting a "P.S. Hello, oldest daughter. I love you, too," in the middle daughter's ad.

But that seems a wee bit tacky.

We've been telling her she really can't do it for any of them, once she left out the oldest daughter. If she wants to keep it fair and even.

Unless she really does like the middle child best. Then all bets are off.

What do you think?

Snow and Heat....Four Letter Words

2011-10-27T23:39:00.000-04:00

Plain. Simple.

Sweet.

I love wrapping presents in brown paper. I often wrap them with red twine. And at Christmas-time, I add jingle bells.

But not for baby presents, silly.

Instead, I used children's books. I picked out the really pretty pages and cut out the babies' initials. While this may look like a creative thing to do, it was really necessity that brought it about.

Three babies to send presents to, three packages to keep straight, three packages of similar size and shape. Uh-oh. I better label these things or I'm going to send the wrong gift to the wrong kid.

That's when I had my a-ha moment. And decided to cut out their initials.

I love it so much, I'm going to do it on lots of packages from now on.

For those of you who live near me, you know what happened tonight.

Yup. Snow.

S.N.O.W.

A four letter word, if I may say. And let me also add, it's way too early for this stuff and nonsense.

We finally had to turn the heat on. I was holding out until November 1st and we were doing pretty good.

Of course, it helped that it's been unusually warm this fall. Jeepers, I was in shorts a week or so ago because it was in the eighties.

It's all over, now. Once that heat goes on, it stays on until May. Ugh.

Hello, heat. Goodbye, savings account.

I Don't Like Spiders and Snakes...

2011-10-16T21:40:00.002-04:00

Orange marigolds. All that's left in the garden.

The Man worked today at cleaning out the beds, ripping out vines and plants, turning over the dirt. But he left the marigolds. They are the last of the color in the garden.

Thousands and thousands of these helicopter seed cases flutter all around. On a windy day, it looks like snow falling.

Most of the leaves in the yard are dull brown but every now and then one stands out, in full color, brightening the bunch.

Another sign of fall.

Spiders.

Blech.

This greeted me one morning as I was heading off to work. It may not look like much in this photo but that web was big.

B.I.G. Big.

And no, I'm not exaggerating. Despite what the Man may think, I can accurately describe the size of a spider and it's web, unlike some of the fishermen in our family who may take certain liberties with the sizes they report.

When I looked down the clothes line, the spider had built a lot of little webs between the lines. And had web strands flying all over from the roof of the porch to the clothes line.

That spider had to go.

Only I couldn't find it.

Not that I was looking too hard. I wasn't going to kill it. I just wanted to know where it was so I could report to the Man. And let him take care of it.

It hid for several days, and then finally, on Saturday morning, I found it. I stepped out onto the back porch, and there was a gigantic web in, and above, my chrysanthemum pot.

Right outside the back door.

With a pretty.darn.big.spider sitting in the middle of the web. And several large insects next to it.

Double blech.

I skedaddled back into the house, found the Man, and carefully reported my findings. Maybe a little enthusiastically, but truthful, nonetheless. I told him I thought he should take care of the spider before I got home because I think the spider was eyeing the house, like it was thinking of moving in for the winter. Then I went out the door, down a different set of stairs, far from the spider web, and got in the car.

When I came home, the web was gone. The spider was gone.

And I was happy. The Man is my hero.

October sky.

Stormy, dark, threatening. Harbinger of winter to come. And the snow that will follow.

Blech.

Letting Go

2011-10-11T23:11:00.001-04:00

Snap. Oh, there's a good picture of my dad, aunt, and uncle as young children.

Snap. I love that figurine Nana has in her display case.

Snap. Look at the baby shoes. So cute. Better take a picture of those.

I take a lot of pictures. Of all sorts of things. Everyday moments.

During visits to my grandmother's house, I snap pictures of things that I want to remember. Like the picture above, that hangs on a wall in my uncle's old bedroom. Or the Hummel like figurine I used to stare at for hours when I would sleep on the pull out sofa as a kid.

We spent {many} weekends at Nan's house when I was growing up. Both of my parents had lots of family in the city, so we would leave on Friday night after my dad got home from work and stay until Sunday night. Once we got into the city, we would drop my mother off at the church hall where she would meet Nana to play bingo. Dad and us kids would travel on to my grandparent's house and we would get comfortable, waiting for Nan and Mom to come home.

My dad's younger sister, Aunt N, always lived with my grandparents. She never married. And never moved out on her own. So we spent a lot of time with her. Most Friday nights she was busy with a date, or her girlfriends, or in her room, catching up on her soap operas when VCRs came about. We didn't really see much of her on Friday nights.

But on Saturdays....those were the best days of the weekend. Nan and Aunt N would take my sister and I "downtown" after lunch and we would go shopping. We got dragged into every department store there was, waiting while Aunt N tried on shoes, and pants, and suits, and tops, and everything else that caught her eye.

We always went home with BAGS of new clothing for her. And a little something for us. Nana would take us into the five and dime and let us pick out some toy or book, a small item that made us smile.

After shopping we would go to the 5:00 Mass at the Catholic church near downtown and then go home for dinner.

Some of my best childhood memories are of me and my sister, snuggled up in our winter coats, sitting in church with Nan and Aunt N, kind of sleepy because we were so toasty warm after walking around the city all afternoon, knowing we were going "home" to a warm meal after church.

No worries, no cares. Just two kids. Surrounded by a whole lot of love and affection.

I didn't know how much I would miss those days until today.

We've been saying goodbye to Aunt N for the past week or so. She got rushed to the hospital because something wasn't right.

She was incoherent. And sick, with a very bad chest cold. But not anything too bad. Surely the doctors could fix her. But then we found out she had sepsis.

And things got worse. She had a heart attack.

And never woke up.

For the past week, we've been holding vigil with her. Sitting by her side, massaging her arms and legs. Caressing her cheek, kissing her, telling her we love her.

I don't know if she knew any of this. But if there was a chance she could hear us, or feel anything, I wanted her to know she was loved.

She.was.loved. We were her witnesses. She mattered. She was important.

God called her home this morning. I know she's in a much better place.

But we will miss her.

As I said, I take lots of pictures of everyday moments.

Last summer I wanted pictures of hands. Nana's hands. Aunt N's hands. And them holding holds.

I love these pictures. I think she would too.

She was 66 years old.

Dance Partners

2011-10-07T22:44:00.003-04:00

There is nothing I like better than to sit down under a cozy, furry blanket with a cup of coffee and watch a romantic movie. I've watched A LOT of them. And I watch them over and over. Bridget Jones Diary, Leap Year, Sabrina - just a few of the many that I love.

One of my favorite romances?

Shall We Dance?

This isn't a movie for newlyweds, or people dating, or even younger married couples.

Nope, this is a movie for us older, married folk. Couples who have dodged some bullets together. And gone through some fire together.

Mature love. Comfortable love. Love that takes work. And choices. And time.

When asked why people marry, the wife in Shall We Dance? says it's not for love, but because,

We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'.

Yeah, that sounds right. And reassuring. But not totally true.

I married for love.

~~~~~~~~~~

Watch the clip from the movie. It's the most romantic scene I've watched in a movie. EVER.

He's right.

We know how to dance with our spouses. We've all been doing it for so many years. We know each other's moves, and strengths, and weaknesses. We know when we have to lean and when we have to be the strong partner. When to speed up and when to slow down.

It's a dance I only want to do with one man. The Man.

One husband, one wife.

Twenty-two years ago we promised to stay that way forever. And we will.

God willing, we will.

~~~~~~~~~~

Happy anniversary, sweets.

Ninety-something

2011-10-04T23:52:00.000-04:00

I love working with the public. Well, usually.

I've met some really nice people over the years. And some horrid ones. Most of the time I think the horrid ones are just having a bad day. I try never to hold a grudge.

I may roll my eyes, but I don't hold a grudge.

It's not good for you.

~~~~~~~~~~

What I really love are the stories. You know how I love a good story. Especially in photographs. But that's not where this story comes from.

This story comes from a 90-something-year-old woman who happens to come in and visit the library several times a month.

~~~~~~~~~~

Josephina, not really her name, has been coming in to the library for many years. She always takes out lots of books, because she reads all.the.time.

We didn't see her for a long while. And whenever we don't see an older patron for a while we get a wee bit nervous, thinking all kinds of things. But we started seeing her daughter pick up books for her so we knew Josephina was okay.

Her daughter would keep us up to date on how her mom was doing and we found out she had undergone cataract surgery.

I didn't expect to see Josephina again.

~~~~~~~~~~

And then one day, I looked up as the front doors opened, and in strolled Josephina. Cute as a button, she smiled when I said "hello" and came over to the counter.

"Josephina! How are you? Is your daughter with you?" I peppered her with questions as she was putting her books into the book drop.

"No, she's back home," was the answer.

Huh. Ninety-something, recent cataract surgery. Who's driving?

"Who drove you here?" I asked.

"I drove myself," she replied.

Oh. Hmm. Ummm, is that really a good idea?

"Does your daughter know you're driving?" I asked, skeptically.

"Well, no, not really."

I really need to ask my next question. "Are you okay to drive? Can you see okay?"

"I can see out of the eye I had surgery on. And I'm recovered from the concussion."

Concussion? Concussion?

"Well," she starts, "I tripped over an ottoman in my living room and fell down." She continues to put books in the book drop. "When I woke up, I got into bed and woke myself up every half hour."

What?

"I've had concussions before, you know." She must have seen the look on my face with her good eye. "I knew what to do. And I called my eye doctor the next day and told him I better have that cataract surgery before I kill myself, falling over something and hitting my head again." And with that, she folded up her empty book bag and toddled off, over to the fiction stacks to get more books.

I didn't know what to say. So I kept my mouth shut.

~~~~~~~~~~

Several days later, I saw her daughter. I asked how Josephina was doing.

"She's rip#$%&," said the daughter.

"Why? What happened?" I wanted to know.

"Well, since she had that cataract surgery, she can see better than she has in years. And she's rip#$%& because she thinks she looks like she's eighty. And she wants more makeup."

Geesh, I hope I'm like that when I'm ninety-something.