Multi-talented kids..

Love Rockford!! Making lemonade out of lemons.

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Yellow.. is my favorite color of the day.

Almost everyday, Emily and I decide what our favorite color is for that day.  I love it because we don't need to choose a favorite color for the rest of our lives.. just a color for.. today.

 And that isn't too hard when it is February.  It HAS to be a happy, warm color.  In honor of my "new" sweater, yellow has been the color du jour.  So, both Emily and I put on our yellow duds on my last stay-at-home day, which was Thursday.

 And we did a little school together and had some fun.  She was telling me that her favorite word to read was "map" just then.  I told her my favorite word to read was "GPS" instead.  (not really)

On a stay-at-home day, I usually have someone begging me to leave the house for some reason or another.  But, I have to catch up on laundry, naps and..

candles!!  Yes, there some crafts going on around here. 

 Every time I make candles, I say, "that's it.  This is totally the last time I do this"  until I do it again. the Reason?  My candles never turn out that great.  I don't follow instructions very well, and it's more about playing with the wax than anything.  But I have a lot of reasons to keep making candles.  First of all, it is fun.  Second of all, it is frugal.  And last of all, it needs to be done.

 So, what prompted all of this?  My mother told me she was getting rid of a bunch of candles.  Easy enough.  I melted them down and added red color.  All of the red candles are from my mother's melted down candles.

 Oh, and these shells!  I was cleaning my mother-in-law's garage, and she had a bunch of shells that she wanted to get rid of.  She said that she was going to make candles with them, so I think she'll be getting some.

 I have no idea how these are going to turn out or if they'll last beyond two minutes after they're lit, but they are kind of cool looking.

 The blue and yellow candles were from "extra" wax I had laying around here.  All the jars were here also.  Generally, when I buy store-bought candles, I just heat up the jar and remove the wax and use them to make homemade candles. I had some wicking from my previous candle-making adventures.  So, No, I did not have to leave the house to make these.  (That is a scary thought all by itself.. but another story)

 As you can see, there was quite a collection. I counted 28 of them!  That should last me for a few months, I think!

 And I'll give some back to my mother who gave me the wax in the first place.

This is how the organizing mommy keeps the world entertained for one more day.  Make my home sing/ moms the word link up.

Family times..winter carnival part 1

So, our entire family traveled up north to Michigan Tech University's Winter Carnival. As soon as Jamie decided to go to this school, we put it on our calendars to visit for the famous event.  The population of the local towns double during this weekend every year.  

 Part of the big attraction of the event is the amazing ice sculptures.  The theme was "stories".  The Campus Crusade group put together this beautiful Bible story sculpture.  I think they got first place for the campus organization category.

 Genesis..

 the Cross..

 the Revelation..

 For God so loved...    Yes, this is a secular school!  Christ is alive and well on the campus.  I was so encouraged by the evidences of God's love in this little area of the world.  During the tour, we noticed a sign that pointed toward "free coffee, hot chocolate and bathrooms".  When we followed the sign, it was the "Evangel Baptist Church" located right off campus.  So, we got to meet some more believers associated with the campus.    Jamie's friend, Wes, goes to that church.


The next sculpture was hilarious in my mind.  All of the other ones were an obvious allusion to some famous story (the Bible, the Hobbit, the Three Little Pigs or Alice in Wonderland  for example).

But not this one.

It was just a great big 42 and "don't panic" at the bottom.

 So, we made up our own story.

On my facebook page, I have this as my profile pic with the caption, "I'm trying not to panic, but how did they know I was 42 this year?!!"  I wonder if all of the other people born in 1969 did the same thing??  What?  Are you saying that they didn't??

 And a trip up to Tech would not be complete without a visit to my college roomie's home and church.  Here we are-- Amy and I.

 We aren't 42, we're 22.  It feels hilarious to be in contact with my college buddy through my own son's college experience.  Life has gone full circle.

 And we both agree that it is hard to be middle-aged beauty queens, but somebody's gotta do it.  I volunteer her.

And her family (below).  Don't you love them?

Don't they look normal?  except when they don't?

 Joanna bonded with the girls just fine.

Saying goodbye to my warrior-college student, son.

This is the sculpture his ROTC group worked on--3 little pigs.  Our oldest AND youngest together--two bookends..  What a fun time! 

Update on Gramps..

Emily and I are snuggled right up with Grandpa Al and Grandma Mary on the couch. This was right before he slept all night long.

After we left, he started to decline mentally and physically. So, the decision was made to have him go to the nursing home. I know it was a hard decision for everyone, but this is the only way he will be cared for safely.

So, my mom took Grandma up to visit Grandpa today. He is having a hard time remembering who everyone is. Of my grandma, he said, "You're the other one".. which I think he meant--the other half of me. You are my other half.

Of my dad, he wasn't sure who he was. "Dad! Who am I?" "thinking.. I'm thinking.. I know this.." but he couldn't come up with the answer.

So, then my mother was sitting with Grandma, visiting with Grandpa and she had a water bottle with her. And just then, Grandpa bursts out, "I want a water bottle like Judy has!"

Granted, my mother IS special and the BEST daughter-in-law anyone could hope for, but everyone burst out laughing when he could remember her and not his wife or son!

The mind is a curious thing, isn't it?

And the worst part about this (for me, personally) is that he has never had an interest in making things right with his creator, and there seems little hope that this will all come together for him in his final days. I know God is able to communicate with people in ways that don't seem traditional, and I am hoping this will be what happens this time.

God is able.

Seriously? Facebook envy..?

Among the other things that I had to do yesterday, I managed to listen to Moody radio for several hours. There's so many wonderful things on there all day long.

For example, I was listening to this show called "Mid-day Connection" which highlighted a book written about how to deal with your mother being a narcissist. I was half surprised that my kids weren't frantically copying down the web address and ordering the book.

But then, they have excellent coping strategies, developed after years of experience.

The next program was "Chris Fabry Live" which discussed another book written about facebook envy.

Now, don't get me wrong, but either all my facebook friends and I are all loosers OR we all seem to have pretty healthy self esteem. or both.

I should start a FB group "the well-contented loosers" and have everyone put "like" at the end of it. Instead of "loosers"; I think we'll opt for "unimpressive people" or "slightly below average" (got that one from Garrison Keilor) !

The typical FB entry of my "friends" is something like this:

"All the kids are sick again"

or

"Can you believe the gas prices are $3.14.."

or (my personal fav) when my own children FB with each other,

"You left towels all over the bathroom floor, and we need more Old Spice body wash"

Really? For the world to see, eh? Lay it all out there, boys. It's not like there's any girls reading this junk. Maybe they will pity you and send you a life-time supply of Old Spice.

Despite the random nonsense of knowing the gas prices, and that kids are sick and the need for male fru-frus, there are a few types of posts that put people over the edge.

"Hubby is taking me out to dinner for our 23rd anniversary"..

I suppose if you just lost your husband, or never had one in the first place, or your man is such a dud that he can't remember when the anniversary is or that is supposed to take you out for it, reading this type of information could be a source of contention for you.

All of these situations are sad, but situations of discontent need to be dealt with a head-on approach.

Is someone else's gain or happiness that is making you feel discontent? It's just highlighting things that are deep in your heart. Envy. Anger. Greed. Lust. the basics, you know?

And don't get me wrong. I am not immune to an occasional real life envy. Generally, if I take the bull by the horns and really examine what is going on, it usually reveals some form of idolatry in my heart. Wasn't there something somewhere that condemned idolatry?

So whether it is on facebook, twitter, blogs, or IRL interactions, we need to examine why we feel the way we do and deal with it. My engineer-husband would probably call this "root-cause analysis". I think you'll be able to deal with all forms of envy, even if you do not have contented (unimpressive people) for (faceboook) friends.

No Ma'am..

This past weekend our entire family traveled north to visit "the Yoop"; that is, my home frontier-land, the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Most of my family still lives up there, including my brother, who is about to turn 40, and my grandparents who are 90 and 92, and (of course) my Mom and Dad, and aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.

So, we arrived in Gwinn on Thursday and went to directly to my grandparents' new home. Grandpa was laid out on the couch, and Grandma was nearby in a rocking chair. They both looked so sweet, but Grandpa has really aged.

One of his issues is not sleeping well at night. Poor Grandma is exhausted and discouraged. Not only is Grandpa having "bathroom issues", but he is getting up at night a lot AND making her get up with him.

Now, there isn't a whole lot anyone can do about this. Grandpa might have to go to the nursing home, but until then, poor Grandma is going to be wandering around in a zombie state.

So, I decided to give Grandpa a little "encouragement".

"Hey Grandpa.. When you go to bed tonight, you are going to sleep ALL NIGHT LONG, you know that, don't you? Say YES MA'AM.."

Grandpa says, "No ma'am"

Everyone bursts into laughter. There's no pushing this guy around, I guess.

So, I waited a little while. I noticed his eyes were getting droopy and he was nodding off.

"Hey Gramps. This is NOT bedtime. Get awake. And you are going to sleep ALL NIGHT TONIGHT. Say YES MA'AM.."

Grandpa says, "No ma'am"

A little more time passes. In the meantime, both of my parents (ages 65 and 67) have decided that this would be a good time to inform my brother that I will not be taking care of them when they get older. Tony just shakes his head. Everyone is stunned. Everyone except Grandpa. He's milking this up for all its worth. He likes the attention AND he gets laughs when he is the BAD boy.

So, I tried one more time.

"Now really Gramp, you really DO want to sleep all night, right?"

And I got him to say "Yes, ma'am.."

finally. Uffda. It's hard being in charge of stuff, you know?!!

So, the next day rolls around. Grandma could not believe it. Guess what happened?!!

That's right. Grandpa slept through the night. (And it wasn't because of my bossing. I actually prayed for him) But that's another story, since no one in my family is used to talking about things like prayer--except my mother. She loves it. The rest of them? not so much.

So, the next day the word got out.

"So, she cast a spell on him, eh?" "You should keep her around.."

Prayer/ spell.. sort of the same thing in a very round-about way. Except it isn't, but I'm not telling them that.

And that was just the first few hours of the trip. There are many other things to talk about. I want to show you pictures of the winter carnival. I want to tell you about my new best friend that I met in the Goodwill. And President Obama's visit to Marquette, which happened to be the same day we were there.

Unfortunately, I was too busy to get over and see him, and I didn't have an invite, so I guess it was just as well. But it was a historic visit on many accounts. LOL.

A statue of Carl?

Have I mentioned Carl? Carl is our 70 year old neighbor who is a 30 year old in body and spirit.

He is also our handyman. Actually, he was chosen to be our handyman by divine appointment. Here's how I know this.

Every time Will goes out of town (let's say to Europe, for example), something in our house explodes, or runs out, or dries up or just happens to keel over. And whatever "it" is-- be it the plumbing, the well, the hose, a flood or whatever--it calls for Carl's name.

Last time it was the explosive sewer pipe at 3:00 a.m. Lufthansa Flight 569 was just landing in Moscow when the incident happened.

Well, sure enough, the water completely stops (without warning) at 3:00 p.m. on Monday, just as our world-traveler landed in Toulouse.

Now, last time we had a little difficulty getting Carl out of bed to come over and help us. It was primarily because I mentioned that Will was in Moscow, and he heard "Roscow" which translated into Roscoe. Roscoe is a small village 10 miles north of here. Other than wondering what would precipitate such strange circumstances as to not allow my husband to travel the 30 minutes to get home from whatever he was doing at 3:00 a.m. (I can only imagine the thoughts that were going through his head, at this point), he managed to come over and help us fix the problem...

The next morning when I told him that Will was in Russia, he acted kind of stunned. "Oh, Shirley said he was in Roscow".. and the nervous laugh that followed. Meanwhile, I am melting into my kitchen floor with embarrassment and perplexation. (I just made that word up)

Now, this incident happened two months ago, I think.. O.K. three at the most.

And here we are again. But instead of the sewer pipe barfing its guts into my basement, it decided to get constipated and produce no water at all. No water at all. No warning. no water. nada. nothing. zip.

No pipes producing water at 3:00 p.m. Snowstorm scheduled to hit Rockford any minute. Guests arriving at 5:30? Husband in France. So, like.. what's the big deal about that?

CARL!!!!

I mean , Jesus!! Pray first. Then call Carl.

Remembering the confusion from the last catastrophe. I said very clearly, "Will is in France" when I made my case for him coming over. Thankfully, he hip-hopped over in no time. He's been here so many times, he doesn't even need an escort to find our stuff--the softener, the compression thingy, the fuse box, the water main. He knows it all. Despite his vast knowledge of the bowels of our home and it's previous catastrophes, Carl was not able to fix it (with duct tape)..

We had to call a plumber and use his duct tape. No, really. It wasn't a plumber; it was a well-guy.

What do you call a well-guy? What is the proper terminology for the little dude, dressed in Carharts, carrying a wrench, head in a stocking cap, driving a beatup old chevy, with a million dollar bank account?

The well and pump man.

The well excavation-"er".

The well pumped dude.

I'm here to pump you up.. dude.

Hans and Franz. (for you oldies who remember SNL.. circa 1986)

The little millionaire who has barely finished high school.

He's got to be. It took him 3 hours to make $900.00, on HIS schedule, even.

Nevertheless, he did replace the "pump", I think. I don't know what he did. But the water was working three hours after he got here, thanks to Carl. Carl recommended him.

"I have this great guy who works on my well. "

"Oh, good. I was hoping you could recommend someone."

"His name is Jack. Of course, he's dead now."

"Oh.. so, like.. how does a dead guy work on your well?"

"It's his son now."

"Fine enough."

So, what do you think? I'd like to have a nice, tasteful statue of Carl made and place it somewhere near the plumbing area of the home. I think it should be wearing hip waiters, a miner's cap with attached flashlight, coveralls, a wrench in one hand and a Bible in the other.

Yup. that's what I'm going to do.

Chicken-Gnocci soup

Yes, it is winter. And it is time to find some hearty soups. So, anyone who has been to the Olive Garden recently should know about this soup. I must confess. I think mine is a tad better. heartier. bigger. fuller. double-chin bigger. yeah.

So, if you just want the facts, scroll down to the bottom for the recipe. But if you like all of the drama in which I normally do these things, hang with me.

O.K. Start with a stick of butter.

Seriously, do all of my recipes start with a stick of butter?

No, they do not.

Some start with two sticks of butter. See?

So, put this one stick of butter in a stockpot. Start melting it on high heat. (because I do everything on high, OK?) If you want, you can put it on medium or medium-high. whatever.

Now crush 3 or 4 cloves of garlic into the butter. Yes, you need to use fresh. Don't be a weeny. Get some fresh garlic already.

Now simmer this for a while--preferably to the cooked garlic stage, whatever that is.

Now you are going to make a roux. Yes, everything I cook involves some sort of roux-"ing". sounds like "doing" a made-up word called "rouxing".

So, you measure 1/2 cup of white flour and stir it into the butter-garlic mixture. It should look like a thick paste. If it doesn't look thick enough, add a little more flour. It may be advantageous at this juncture to turn down the heat, especially if you are slow at this process.

I tend to leave the burner on high and just move quickly. I have heard from various sources that most people move slower than I do in the kitchen. Then again, they don't quite make the mess that I do.

So, let's review. So far, we have 1 stick of butter and 4 cloves of minced garlic in a pan. They are cooked and we have just added 1/2 cup of flour.
Now, in a separate pot, you want to boil some water to cook the gnocci in. (Technically, you should have started this when you started the whole melting of the butter step) So, like, what is gnocci (NO-Key) ?? It's a potato-based pasta. It has a unique flavor because of the nutmeg and the potatoes. I am just going to suggest that you buy pre-made gnocci from the freezer section of the grocery store. You can make homemade gnocci, but that is a different animal. So, cook 3 small bags of gnocci according to the directions on the package.

Have you ever noticed that gnocci packages often say "potato gnocci"? Isn't that an oxymoron? Of course, there is "pizza pie" or "panera bread" and I could go on and on about food oxymorons. But is there going to be some other type of gnocci other than potato gnocci? Of course, they could take the gnocci dough and shape it differently and fill it with ricotta cheese and spinach and make it look like a ravioli. But then, they might call it ravioli, except it is make with this potato-based dough, and then we need to indicate that it is a "gnocci".. see?

I almost forgot about the roux. Getting back to our roux, we probably should go ahead and (not let it burn) and add the 4 cups of milk, 1 T. of chicken base, and 2 t. salt and stir it on medium heat until you have a thick sauce. You may want to add 3 cups of water to this also, since you are going to be adding a ton of other stuff in here really soon.
Add 6 cups of cooked chicken, cut up into chunks, and an entire pound of fresh baby spinach, and all of the cooked pasta . Cook until heated through. Serve with freshly grated parmesan cheese.

Recipe without the drama:

Prepare this first:

6 cups cooked chicken, in medium chunks (light or dark is fine)

1 pounds of fresh baby spinach (coarsely chopped if not baby spinach)

3 small packages of gnocci or gnocci-inspired pasta (about 6 cups cooked) cooked, drained, set aside

Make a sauce with these ingredients:

1 stick of butter

4 cloves of garlic

chicken base (Better than Bouillion )

salt/ pepper to taste

4 cups of milk (whole, organic, my preference)

3-4 cups of water, depending how thick you want the broth

1/2 cup of white flour.

Making the sauce instructions:

Place one stick of butter, 4 minced gloves of garlic in large stockpot and saute' them until all the butter is melted and garlic is sizzling but not brown (3-4 minutes)

Add 1/2 cup of flour and keep stirring until a paste forms.

Add: 2 t. salt, 1 T. chicken base, and 4 cups of milk to form a thick sauce.

Add 3 or more cups of water (or other liquid such as chicken broth) Stir until it becomes a medium-thick sauce/ broth. The broth should not be "thin", but it shouldn't be "heavy like a cheese sauce". It will thicken up when you add the cooked pasta, etc.

Taste it. Season accordingly.

Add the cooked pasta, cooked chicken and raw spinach. Heat throughly. Serve with grated fresh parmesan.

Happy Eating.

Enjoy your double chin.

I know I am.

Feelin coordinated.. oh yeah.

On Sunday nights, we have this new Bible study going on. And my daughter, who seems to always have a camera in her hands, has taken some pics of the gang.

Of course, this isn't even half the gang. But I thought they were decent pics.

Except for these. These aren't cute. They are just weird. Well, they are only weird because like.. I'm in them.

And Jody, the gal in the cute brown suit above, decided to let me pick out a pair of one of her 8 million pairs of reading glasses that she has stored up over the years. Bright red?
squarish-brown. I think I ended up with these. And I was in no real mood for the paparazzi at this juncture.
But she's taking photos anyways, so I'd better smile..
or I'm going to end up looking like this.
Yeah. All biz. Organizing Mommy rules and bosses people around. You know it.

Which reminds me of a low-brow post--otherwise known as "weird stories".. and yes, I think this all really did happen yesterday.

So, I have all of my Sundstrand pilates clients lined up neatly on their mats doing the "hundreds"--you know what I'm talking about if you are a pilates nut. And there's these two guys working out on some equipment right near us. That is not entirely too unusual since we share a space in the "multi-purpose room". Normally, it is only their stink that puts me over the top, but not today. Today they were talking in full, loud voices--so much so that I could hardly concentrate on my "cueing".

So one of my students yells out, "Hey! Pipe down over there!"

No response.

Now the expression "Hey" could mean anything or anyone, and it most definitely is not me, especially if I am doing the crime. After all, they weren't blaring music or having a fist fight. What could "Pipe down" mean anyway?

I told my clients, "Don't worry. I've got this."

So, I physically walked over to them and said, "Gentlemen.."

Now, if I start a sentence with "Gentlemen", I mean business. There is no doubt in anyone's mind to whom I am speaking or the manner in which I mean to get things done.

And really, I don't mean to riding a broom, but everything after "gentlemen.." is pretty much hit that status of broom-riding.

I think I said something like this:

"Gentlemen, this is a paid-for class, and you are both being unruly. Feel free to finish up what you are doing quickly and quietly and use your indoor voices."

And they did. End of discussion.

And I carried on like I manage this kind of nonsense on a regular basis. Three boys anyone? I often wonder if those of us who have managed to raise children into responsible adults would be a good shakeup for corporate America? just thinkin..

And with that sort of flair, I managed to wrap up the class and head to the treadmill. Except, somewhere in the middle of trying to operate the IPOD and walk at the same time, my arms went flailing over my head and I found myself falling off the back of the treadmill. I let out quite a whoop of it and managed to get everyone in the area to stop and look at me. At which point, Larry, the director of the center and my boss, came running over to see what the commotion was about. He was most astonished to find that I had landed on my feet!

So, I'm standing behind the treadmill with it going 4.2 MPH and I have my IPOD all wrapped around my head and arms, music blaring and I'm not sure if I should laugh or cry or just shake it off.

So, Larry says, "I got it all on video. It was great!"

And then I'm like, "You better not put it on Youtube!"

But really. I would have liked to have seen how dumb I looked, even if just to laugh at myself.

Larry was just joking. thankfully. For once, I'm not the one making other people nervous. Taste of my own medicine, eh?

And nobody died. And I got back on, even.

And this is like.. one day in my life. And I'm not even getting into the part where I go home, take a shower and then the water stops, guests are coming, no water until the next morning, blizzard going on, husband in France, etc. etc. drama drama drama.

No, I think we'll just deal with the funny parts, OK?