share recipes!

girlcook.jpg
Visit  breakfast lunch & dinner to see what's cookin' and share your favorite recipes.

absentee bloggers
Contact Me
This form does not yet contain any fields.


    Monday
    Jan222007

    a weekend away

    100_3778.JPG
    the dunes

    the toys.jpg

    the toys
    (which I did ride!)

    100_3769.JPG
    the boys 

    Aidan: "I want to stay at the dunes forevah."

    Davyn as we drove off to a store on Saturday, lip quivering, eyes tearing: "I wa dune.  I wa toyhaula."  Try as we did, we couldn't convince him we were simply venturing out for moments in search of hamburger buns.

     100_3775.JPG
    40 feet of "roughing it"

    100_3784.JPG100_3785.JPG 

    a peace of Quiet on the drive home

     

     **I'll work on action shots next trip**

    Thursday
    Jan182007

    monkeys in my heart

    monkey_cage.jpgMy mind is spinning in Random tonight.  I have food to make, laundry to fold, toyhauler to pack, grocery store to visit, but I don’t think I can focus until I vent, sort, rant, whatever this is…

     

    “There are monkeys in my heart, rattling their cages.”  Lyrics on Grey’s tonight.  And that’s how I feel.  Sounds funny, but it isn’t particularly…more jumbled, really.  So, here’s what on my mind, and I’ll number for the pretense of Order:

    1.   I stumbled upon a great concept reading Annalisa’s blog…who stumbled upon Michelle’s…who stumbled upon Ali Edwards’.  Not bad at only four degrees of separation, I suppose.  Anyhow, I picked myself up & wandered to explore this Ali Edwards.  There’s got to be something contagious about a post that gets 414 comments.  I jumped in at 415...and will pass along the bug.  Quoting her:

    “A single word can be a powerful thing. It can be the ripple in the pond that changes everything. It can be sharp and biting or rich and soft and slow.

    “Last year I began a tradition of chosing one word for myself each January - a word that I can focus on, mediate on, and reflect upon as I go about my daily life. Last year my word was something I wanted to bring into my life in a more tangible way. My word was Play…

    “Can you identify a single word that sums up what you want for yourself in 2007?”

    I perused her fan responses & was Awed by the “one word” choices.  Her word this year is Peace.  My word chose me instantly, but I’ll post about it next week…more monkeys rattling still.

    2.   My blogless sister Mandi wrote a list of 100 & Megs posted it on her site.  I know I’m her sister, but it was seriously one of the best lists I’ve read (and oh I made the rounds).  A teaser from her list:

    "I received my mission call on my 21st birthday, at 3 AM in a Catholic confession booth turned phone booth in a youth hostile in Dublin, Ireland after a night of dancing at Bono’s (from U2) dance club, The Kitchen, located behind and under his hotel, The Clarence."

    Who could possibly have that in common?

    the clarence.jpg 

    3.   I finally delivered my Sunbeam book gifts.  Driving around to 27 different houses takes longer than I imagined.  Aidan desperately wanted to help, but got shy every time he reached the door solo.  He’d ring and run.  A prankster in the making.  Poor Davyn was placated for the two hour trip with hundreds of SpongeBob crackers. 

    I came home to a thank you call from one of the mothers.  Emily would not put down her book, ate with it even.  She (the mother) was teary.  That made me teary.  I really wanted to do something they (the little people) would like. 

    4.   I feel lame blogging about Grey’s Anatomy, but the episode really shook me tonight.  First off, the music was fantastic.  Second, the music was fantastic.  But…why did they stop doing the start & finish narration (or was I too wrapped up to notice it?!)? 

    George said, “I don’t know how to exist in a world where my dad doesn’t.”  It undid me.  I honestly don’t think about my dad too often – a dark, locked closet in that monkey-ridden cage, I suppose.  Odd moments rattle that closet.  Grey's Anatomy??!

    5.   Came in to visit my blessedly restored computer (thank you, thank you Jim) & read the RS lesson for this week (I never do that, but am grateful for this exception). Crying again.  I love President Kimball, but did not know this about him. 

    KimballSpencerW.jpgEarly in his childhood, Spencer W. Kimball suffered the pain that comes with the death of loved ones. When he was eight years old, his sister Mary died shortly after her birth. A month later, Spencer’s parents sensed that five-year-old Fannie, who had been suffering for several weeks, would soon pass away. Spencer later told of the day Fannie died: “On my ninth birthday Fannie died in Mother’s arms. All of us children were awakened in the early night to be present. I seem to remember the scene in our living room … , my beloved mother weeping with her little dying five-year-old child in her arms and all of us crowding around.”1

    Even more difficult for young Spencer was the news he received two years later, when he and his brothers and sisters were called home from school one morning. They ran home and were met by their bishop, who gathered them around him and told them that their mother had died the day before. President Kimball later recalled: “It came as a thunderbolt. I ran from the house out in the backyard to be alone in my deluge of tears. Out of sight and sound, away from everybody, I sobbed and sobbed. Each time I said the word ‘Ma’ fresh floods of tears gushed forth until I was drained dry. Ma—dead! But she couldn’t be! Life couldn’t go on for us. … My eleven-year-old heart seemed to burst.”

          The lesson is titled "Tragedy or Destiny".  Amazing thoughts.

    Enough of my jumbled has escaped to allow tackling of the tasks . . . better yet, the Pillow.  If the damn Monkeys will behave.

     **can you tell I learned to insert links in my blogging text today?!**

    Wednesday
    Jan172007

    a great day to clean my desk

    My computer died last night.  I was in the office one minute typing (writing a post about the pledge of allegiance, for crying out loud!), left, came back to Blank a half hour later.  I honestly felt naked or limbless sitting there without it...crazy how it has become as essential as my hands or feet (or so it seems...).   Jim sat at his desk on his computer and I was an envious green.  First reaction was hot red anger, but sullen blue remains.  Building a second computer changed our lives a few years ago.  We both are people who need computer time. 

    I plan there - weekly dinner lists, daily to-do lists, home improvement lists, self-improvement lists, herb garden lists, FHE lists... 

    I escape there.  I know that you can rent a villa in Spain for $800/week.  It has a lovely pool.  I know where to find ratings for potential purchases. Hence, my well-loved Dyson.  I know where to look for book reviews.  I know where to find plans for house dreaming. 

    Yes, the "escape" can still be done on "the other" computer, but it's just not the same.  Jim's computer is for sports stats & Everquest.  A different world entirely.  And what will we do if we can't sit desk-to-desk in the same room playing Settlers of Catan online? So what if that only happens every six months...at least it's an option.  And sitting side-by-side in separate worlds...not an option anymore.

    So this morning I've bookmarked 7 different wedding cake plateaus on "the other" computer...the poor things are out of place amid "the other" chosen favorites:  NFL Draft Countdown, ASU Sun Devils, Radio-Controlled Flight, Everquest 2 Realm, Steak: Grilling Perfection...

    Going back to *shared* doesn't sound possible, so I'm hoping it's an easy fix.  Sigh.  And all my recipe, FHE, & writing files aren't reachable.  Jim assured me they will be easily salvaged, but being without for even a day seems hard.  What if I want to make Kay's donuts or Becca's mac  & cheese?  I don't, but I'd really like to know that it's an option.

    Sunday
    Jan142007

    tough enough?

    Aidan’s in an age of a million questions. And he stumps me continually. At three he already knows that Mom doesn’t have all the answers. Doesn’t that enlightenment usually come much later? Another question that leaves my mind blank.

    On Friday he managed to truly stump beyond stump me. “Mom, are you tough?” It wasn’t that I didn’t know the answer to this one, but how could I tell my all-boy-oldest-adventure-seeking-dad-worshipping son that his mom is a likely candidate for the Wimpiest Mom on the Planet. And - for those who don’t know me - this is not an exaggeration. In fact, I’m sure family & friends will quickly post their amen’s to the statement.

    I think about this often. I’ve been given two life-loving boys. They are drawn to dirt, transpose any stick to instant sword, imagine their play set into pirate ship or castle daily, beam at the sight of a tractor, want skateboards (not yet, please!), live for dune trips & quads, watch football with dad…just the beginning, really. And I pretty much don’t do any of the above. I’m adventurous in many ways, but in None that involve the possibility of lost limbs or weeping wounds. Water skiing, snow skiing, snow boarding, sports playing, rock climbing, hiking, quad riding, sword fighting…all Frighten me (note the capital F).

    So, here is where I find the dilemma. Jim loves all such…has sacrificed much of this since linking lives with a Wimp, in fact. I selfishly accepted his resignation of much-loved-activities, but then came the boys. Their personalities have emerged and it’s painfully obvious that they’re mini-Jim’s. Now I cringe at the thought that my littles will grow up & remember doing everything they love with Dad, but where was Mom? Of course I’ll be there – on the sidelines – but will they remember that background inaction?  My adventure-seeking needs to go beyond relegation to books and travel. This need was highlighted when I saw Price Cream Parlor’s Christmas card post. I know her only through her blog, but that card spoke volumes about the type of Boy Mom she is with her 4 little men. It just appears that they adventure Together.

    Yes, I know. You can’t be someone you aren’t. And I know I will introduce my boys to many other adventures – books, travel, imagination, art, food, fingerpaint. Already Aidan is my laminating partner, the official mixer master at cookie-making time (with the small glitch in that role that occurred when the mixer went mad & ate his shirt & chest – ouch! but oh so funny), my story-telling critic, and my nature show watching companion…but I feel the need to stretch.

    So…I’m going to accept more Scott backyard football invites, do more family Frisbee throwing, and – oh this is a big one – I’m going to ride at the Dunes on our next trip (next weekend!).  I’ll never be found jumping out of airplanes, but I can manage these few non-me moves.  Baby steps to my own version of Tough.

    Cyndee's ChristmasRenaissanceMadee's Baptism 066.jpg 

    Aidan & London swordfighting at last year's Renaissance Festival.

    Friday
    Jan122007

    happy birthday Wesley!

    100_0063.jpg

    Wesley is my oldest nephew.  He is a very grown-up 5 now (although I think his cute little voice will forever be the highest sound I’ve heard), but one of my favorite Wesley stories is from years ago.  Wesley was an exceptionally energetic toddler, pretty much non-stop on the go.  If his feet weren’t moving, his mind certainly was.  He was saying prayers with the family one night, mentioned all of the regular items, then added, “And please help us so we don’t fight like this”, at which point he popped up from prayer stance, wildly kicking and punching into the air.  He then knelt back to continue, “or like this”, followed by another pop-up fighting demo.  Kneeling back down a third time, he folded his arms, and ended the prayer in perfect reverence.  What a boy!  We love & miss you, Wesley!

    100_0295_1.jpg
    Happy 5! 

    On a sidenote, my oldest niece, Andersyn, just started a blog (see sidebar for link...I'm still new at all this).  Her list of 100 is fabulous.  I was most astounded that she read all of the Lord of the Rings books when she was 7.  Some can't get through those at 17!