Happy Valentine's Day

Okay, this is for Ashley, because she really knows how to talk me into stuff. What kind of world are we coming to? A double blog day! David will think I wasted my whole day. Oh, except I cleaned the bathroom and weeded in the garden and did some laundry too.

He walked me to the front gate of my house and gave me a very sweet peck on the mouth to follow the few minutes we had spent in the car. I fairly floated inside the house and fell into bed, hoping for dreams as sweet as my current reality.

We talked on the phone the next day, and the next, and every day that week. By Wednesday, he had asked me out again for Saturday night. I was in heaven and thought that I couldn’t have written myself a better love story. The timing was perfect. We would have been dating for two whole weeks by the time Valentine’s Day rolled around, just long enough to make things not awkward. Or so I thought.

Valentine’s day was on a Thursday and come Monday, I still hadn’t been asked out. There was a big dance, of course, but I was hoping for something a little more private. Tuesday, still no phone call. This was weird, because before this week, I think we had talked on the phone every day since our first date. I called Mary and wondered aloud what was going on. She was sure that he had just forgotten and would call soon. By Wednesday, I was so confused and upset that I decided I needed to call David and find out where I stood. He wasn’t home. I left a message, but I didn’t get a return call until the next day. When he called, I was relieved, but nervous. I couldn’t imagine what was wrong. David chatted casually like I was his best friend in the world, but no mention of Valentine’s Day. Finally, I broke down and asked him what he was doing that night. He informed me that he was playing basketball that night, but that a girl he met last week would be meeting him there. He asked if I had any suggestions on what he should wear to take her out after the game. WHAT? I was dumbfounded! I couldn’t speak! I quickly made some excuse to get off the phone before the tears started to flow.

After a good cry, I called Mary to tell her all about it. She commiserated, but had to go get ready for her Valentine date, of course. I called Steve and told him all about it too. It seems that several of my male friends had ended up dateless on this Valentine’s Day and were all headed to the dance together. They offered to pick me up and suddenly I was going out with four good-looking guys instead of none. We were all miserable and the boys all offered to beat David up for me. My very tall friend, Greg, suggested that we head over to the basketball game and beat him up right away. Although that sounded tempting, it seemed a little too desperate. I didn’t want to let David know how much I cared.

The five of us, Steve, Greg, Chris, and Eric (who looked like a blond Superman) headed for the dance. Eric was mourning the loss of a girl and was completely content to let me snuggle with him on the couch as we moped. We actually ended up having a great time wallowing in our misery together. At the end of the evening, I returned home and the reality of my lack of relationship with David returned. I cried myself to sleep. 

Gardening?

Should I start this by stating how much I LOVE having fresh salad every day or how much I HATE having dirt under my fingernails. Maybe the actual beginning is to discuss how motivated my mom is. Dang it! Back in January, we started talking about a garden. I probably would have bought a couple of tomato plants to watch die and been done with it, but not my mom. First she talked about how wonderful fresh vegetables are. Then, I'm pretty sure she arranged to have grocery prices go up so that they sounded even better. Next, she got a little frustrated that no one seemed as excited about a garden as her. Then the guilt kicked in and we all said we would help.

Mom and Tom did most of the preparing of the soil, since they know how to use the tiller. We had a big Family Home Evening to plant the seeds. We bought rubber boots to waddle through the mud.

We labeled everything so we wouldn't forget what was where.

We loved that little garden so much that we even put blankets on it when we had that freeze in February.
 

And now we get to eat salad with fresh red  and green lettuce, purple and orange carrots, green onions, peas, radishes, and spinach. Oh, so yummy! And I haven't bought a green vegetable for weeks.

I hope everyone else isn't tired of salad.

btw, next week for dinner co-op I'm doing fish tacos one day and something chicken and rice the other. And salad.

At last!

I love these posts! I've already written most of the story, so all I have to do is copy and paste, and I'm done! Sometimes it also helps if I don't read it so I don't remember just how much personal information I'm posting about myself on the internet.

The next day, Sunday, I thought about this phone call all day. I went to church, but I’m sure I never heard a word. I debated calling that day, or waiting till the next. When it came down to it, there was never a question. I couldn’t wait. I called David that evening. He was busy. Devastation! He took my phone number and I waited. I actually hoped it was just a ploy to have a reason to ask for my number again. About an hour later, he did call back and I was in heaven. He asked me out on a date for that weekend and, of course, I agreed. I could have died happy at that moment. Thursday, David gave Mary and me a ride home from the dance. I had left my car at Mary’s house. I think Steve had picked us up. Sadly, David’s sister had been in a car accident that totaled his cute little blazer, and we rode home in the Hyundai hatchback. At Mary’s, we sat outside on the car. No one wanted the evening to end yet. My dear friend walked by me and whispered in my ear, “You’re right. He is pretty cute.” I thought that it was all over. There was no way I could compete. I drove the rest of the way home, depressed and upset.

However, I was the one with the date for Saturday night. Friday, David called and asked what I was doing that night. Strangely, I hadn’t made plans yet, and although I knew you should never accept a day of date offer, I couldn’t resist. He asked if he could come over to visit at my house. He could have asked just about anything. So, Friday night David came over and met my parents. Did I mention that my dad is 6’3”, not shy, and quite intimidating? After spending some time chatting with my angel mother and gun-toting father, we went for a walk outside. We ended up at the swing set where we sat down to talk. The attraction was definitely headed up a notch. David casually mentioned that we should really count this evening as a date so that there wouldn’t be any issues with not kissing on the first date the next night. After having waited three months for him to ask me out, it probably said nothing for my moral restraint that I was sure there wouldn’t be a problem.

Saturday, David arrived in his black, mock turtleneck tucked into nicely fitting khakis. He looked fabulous and I think I may have had on a similar outfit. We laughed and I grabbed a sweater to throw on over my mock. We were about as silly as anyone could possibly be as we ate our dinner of burgers and fries at Red Robin. (What happened to my no eating restaurant cooked meat, I wonder?) We went to see a movie, Hunt for Red October. (Never go see a romantic comedy on the first date. An action movie is much better. Intense.) We held hands in the theater and of course it was awkward as I left my hand resting on the arm rest and he tried to figure out which way to take hold of it. The drive home was nerve-wracking! How would this end? We had actually talked about kissing the night before! Once we arrived at my house, David started to talk, so we stayed in the car. I fidgeted in my seat, until leaning in and placing his hand on my cheek, he said, “I’m going to kiss you now.” I stopped fidgeting.

Not what I expected.

This post is not going to turn out how I expected.

I walked outside to go take a picture of the garden. I've always hated gardening. From the times when I was little and my dad would tell us to "Go outside and hoe 2 rows before dinner.", to planting my own flowers on the front porch. Anyway, this is where the blog was going to go... but it will have to wait. When I walked outside, Tbone was standing by the fence looking friendly, so I went over to have a chat.

He's such a friendly little bull. He loves it when I pick grass from the field by the garden and bring it too him. He also loves getting his picture taken, obviously. I was headed to the garden anyway, so I figured I'd snap a couple photos and bring him some grass.

I didn't take a picture of the grass (although you can see a nice patch right in front), but next to the onions off to the right, there's a gorgeous patch of grass about a foot long. I figure pulling it and feeding it to the cows serves many purposes. First, it removes the grass from right beside the garden, discouraging it from reseeding right into the garden. Next, it fattens up those future yummy steaks. Also, it helps reseed the cow pasture when they eat the seed heads and then fertilize the field. I proceeded to pick a great big handful to take to Tbone. As I walked back to the cow pasture, I saw that he had gone to join the other cows on the other side of the pasture. I walked up to the fence to dump the grass and...

Here comes Chuck. I wasn't ready for him with my camera, but he came trotting up from clear on the other side of the pasture. This was shocking to me. Chuck had never come over to me at the fence before. Even when I did bring food. I wasn't quite sure if he was charging me or coming for grass, because he was running. He slowed up as he approached and quickly began to enjoy his (Tbone's) special treat.

Then Tbone noticed...

and he came running!

Usually Tbone is the only one that will come over to the fence when I bring grass, so this sudden, unexpected event made me think that I should go get some more grass, especially when I saw that ... Porky was headed over too! This was beyond shocking. Porky actually runs away when anyone comes near. (maybe not Tom, who feeds them everyday. I don't know.) 

Tbone and Chuck were graciously enjoying their snack, but Porky was just hovering in the background. I figured he would come eat a little while I was picking some more grass in the garden. Coming back with another armful, Porky saw me and started to shy, but he really wanted that grass too.

He started to back away when I got too close. I started to walk away, still taking pictures.

Maybe we should have named him Chicken, the original white meat.

Even when I walked back to the other side of the road, he was still watching me over the top of the water tub.

 That steer has no appreciation!

Success!

My plan was to always post something different in between these memory posts, but Lauren has been nagging me. I'm not sure that Lauren was my intended audience. Hmm, how many more installments before this becomes uncomfortable? Ours was not always a smooth relationship.

The next time I saw David was all wrong. He came to a Saturday night dance with his cousin. Todd was in town on Winter break from University. Mary, my usual companion, had a date that night and so my friend Steve and I had met at the dance. Steve was a sweet guy. All the guys that Mary and I hung out with (and we only hung out with guys, our other girlfriend, Teresa, had already married) were at the very least, cute. It was fun to flirt innocently with our friends, knowing that we were all looking in other directions for actual relationships. So, I’m there with Steve, and David has a built in companion. Meanwhile, I have been wallowing in jealousy for the boy I’ve never even dated, watching him and his reactions to the other girls that he has met. I was rather pathetic. The evening was disappointing. I was ready to leave. David asked if we were going out to eat as we often did. Steve, who probably fed off my dejectedness, had no desire to go. Dennis the DJ was in the process of getting married and no fun anymore (just kidding Dennis and Alisa). However, I had technically come alone. It might be a little awkward, but how could I give up the opportunity to spend more time with David? Todd was up for food, so we headed off (in separate cars) for JB’s.

Suddenly, the night was looking up! I ordered my usual Pepsi and probably some fries, so that I wouldn’t get too much crap about not eating the traditional 1am dessert. Todd and I got along well and discussed some classes that we’d had in common. David was flirty, but somewhat reserved with his cousin maintaining most of the conversation. After some conversation and with my heart in my throat, I decided I better head out. It was getting late and I had about a 20 minute drive home by myself.

To my utter amazement and making it almost impossible to swallow, David said that he would walk me out to my car. Todd busied himself at the table. We walked out to the little, old Ford farm truck that I was driving. We talked and laughed and joked together. I didn’t want to leave, but wasn’t sure what to expect. David asked if he could call me and the heart that was already stuck in my throat swelled. Unfortunately, neither one of us had a pencil, paper, or the brains to walk back inside JB’s. There was a nail lying in the back of my truck and that crazy boy picked it up and told me that he would carve his number in the bed of the truck and if I would call him the next day, he could write down my number. I think that was the 2 o’clock in the morning talking. I thought my dad would kill me if he noticed something carved into that rusty, scratched up little truck, but I really didn’t care. I got into the truck and drove around the corner. I think I was holding my breath! Once I was down the street where I knew I couldn’t be seen, I literally screamed out loud. I was on cloud nine. I couldn’t imagine life being any better, except that I would soon be talking to David on the phone.

I realize that the picture pretty much gives away the ending, but I think that part was gonna be obvious anyway.

November and December dragged by. Normally, my favorite time of the year, I waited for something, anything to happen. David didn’t ask me out, but at least he didn’t ask out my dear friend either. We talked, laughed, flirted, and danced on Thursdays and Fridays. He bowled on Saturdays.

Then a devastating development. One night in December, David mentioned that he’d gone out with the daughter of a family friend. She was nice, but not really his type. So now I knew that he did date, just not me. A tiny little crack started in my heart; it felt like it was starting to freeze. At least he wasn’t interested in this other girl, but we were turning into the dreaded “friends”. Then, the bomb dropped. He told me, his friend, that his ex-girlfriend had called. She had been dating someone else, a law student, good story so far. However, this law student had started talking about marriage. She felt that it wouldn’t be fair to marry him without resolving her feelings for David. Resolving my foot! He went on to tell me that They would be spending some time together and he might not be around for a while. I had pinned my hopes on the New Year’s Eve party that we would be attending, or at least I thought we would. He wasn’t sure if he would come or not.

It turned out not. All of our friends went to the party. 1990 was destined to be a banner year! Surrounded by friends, I was devastated. I wanted to go home. What was the point of celebrating when my reason for living was not even there? He was probably out with the girl he had dated for years before we met, before his time in Alaska, a girl that he had history with and who wanted to “resolve her feelings”. I moped, I pouted, I’m sure I was a major downer. Midnight came and I reluctantly cheered along with the crowd. New Year’s kisses surrounded me and loneliness filled me. I left as quickly as possible.

On my own, I contemplated the possibilities. I was falling for this friend of mine and I didn’t want to be the shoulder he chose to cry on if his ex dumped him. I didn’t want to watch him get over her and move on to someone else. I definitely still wanted him for myself, and I had not quite given up hope, despite Saturday bowling, set-ups, and ex-girlfriends, I felt an attraction between us that I didn’t think I had imagined.

today

bear_river cmcflyfish.org

Today is definitely one of those "real life" days that no one ever blogs about because no one really wants to read about someone else's crummy day. Woke up to Lauren telling me she just threw up so she can't go to school, again. (She's missed so much school this year because she's been sick, that it's really affected her grades.) This was after listening to David hack all night (coughing) and I'm sure I woke up every time he got up to go throw up. I know, how can I complain, when I wasn't even the sick one. Came out to get Emma up for school to find out that Mom's sick too! Made Emma scrambled eggs for breakfast, but Dad wanted french toast. Came home, called the school, called the chiro to cancel, called the dr. to take Lauren in and get her on antibiotic in case it's the strep that went around last week.
Took Lauren to the dr. He says it's not strep but puts her on meds anyway for a secondary infection. (Making over $450 spent on medical bills in the month of March. And yes, we have insurance!) Then, he says he wants to see her again tomorrow, so she can't go to school AGAIN! On the way to fill her prescription, she tells me that today was the day she was going to take her French make up test. AAaaghhh! Take her home, go get lunch for Dad, work on Mom's scrapbook. Ignore the piles of both dirty and clean laundry, rethink buying clothes so often. Then, go get Emma for school, more scrapbooking, eat dinner, get ready for mutual. Take Emma to 1st aid night. Be sad that Lauren had to miss it.
Upside, come home to watch idol. Vote online for Casey and Scotty. I like James too, but I had to narrow it down. Really need to go to bed now!

Love part 2

I’m almost certain I started counting the days to the next dance where I thought I might run into this boy? Young man? Love of my life?  I’d learned that he set aside Saturday night for bowling with a friend. Ridiculous! Who bowls on Saturday night? In my opinion, Saturday was for dancing. Of course, so were Thursday, Friday, and Wednesday if possible. College classes were a necessary evil. So, a week until I would see David again. I’m sure I planned my outfit with more care the next week, but a GAP girl with modish tendencies and a passion for Converse really finds herself limited when trying to attract the opposite sex.

I was not disappointed. He was as adorable as I remembered! Those eyes, under those eyebrows! Smitten was an understatement. Also, a very attractive mouth; kissable would be a good description. We discussed a Halloween party coming up that we all intended to attend. My heart fluttered at the idea of seeing him again, knowing the time and place. A friendship began to develop, chatting with our common friends. He was hiding behind the DJ tables, and I wasn’t afraid to join him there to drag him out onto the dance floor. (Those two years in Alaska had been as a missionary and girls were a no-no.) He was nervous after this hiatus. I was safe. However, a safe friend was not who I wanted to be, but if it meant I was the one dancing with him, it was a means to an end.

Thanks to my dad, I had a job at Radio Shack. He required me to get a job. He got me the job. It paid for my entertainment expenses and filled my days. I probably spent more time at Radio Shack daydreaming to the music than selling personal computers, which were still somewhat of a novelty. Between school and the Shack, I thought I was pretty busy, but I was definitely glad that I had money for gas, movies, dancing, and eating out with my friends.

I was going through an interesting stage. I would only eat meat at home (my parents’ house). I decided restaurant meat was gross, and I wouldn’t eat it. Desserts were also off limits. I tended toward the plump, and desserts made that worse. Not eating dessert meant I could sometimes share clothes with my 5’2” best friend. This came up one night after a dance when a bunch of us piled into Paul’s dad’s big old whale of a car and headed over to Denny’s, one of the few places open at one in the morning. I ordered a Pepsi (What in the world made me think that soda was better for me than meat or desserts? But, such is the mind of a 19 yr old.) and Mary ordered a brownie sundae. So did David. I sipped at the pepsi as Mary tried to tempt me with the gooey chocolateyness of her sundae. I really wasn’t tempted at all. One, I don’t really care for chocolate ice cream (which her stirred up concoction had become) and two, I had honestly talked myself into thinking desserts didn’t really taste all that good. David joined in the fray. He couldn’t believe that I wouldn’t want a bite of chocolatey goodness. While I hated to disappoint him, it did at least draw his attention my way. Silly, teenage antics.

The night of the Halloween party arrived and Mary and I dressed up as who knows what. I had one thing on my mind, seeing David. The party was at a house out in the country with a haunted house in the barn. Trying to be subtle, I scanned the crowd. No sign of my mind-altering crush. I tried to look cheerful and enjoy myself, but I really was consumed by the idea of seeing this boy-man. (What is a 22 year old?) I wandered the yard, scanning the mummies, cowboys, and silliness that a bunch of college-age kids engage in o(n the 31^st of October. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to look into the deep-set (blue/green?) eyes of the best looking zombie I had ever seen! My heart leapt! He had been asked (because of the great makeup/costume job his sister had done) to join the haunted house crew and had been inside. We talked and laughed and I’m sure he had no idea that my heart was pounding in my throat. He asked Mary and I if we wanted to come see the Blazer that his parents had bought for him to start his new job as a runner (errand boy) for the law firm that his uncle worked for. Of course we headed out to the dirt road where he had parked and I managed, as I had for the past couple of weeks, to sit beside him in the car. We admired and fussed over his new to him vehicle; he was obviously excited by the purchase. The flirting had begun, but I wondered if this sweet, adorable boy was directing this attention toward me, or my ever adorable friend Mary. I went home, elated but nervous with a stomach full of butterflies and a surely a wistful look in my eye.

Love

Although I really wanted to vent about my ridiculous experience with "cell phone insurance", I don't really want that negative post to be what's up on my blog. So, I think I'll post the 1st page of a story I wrote. This may not be the best photo, but the story was inspired by the 2nd guy from the left. 

When I first saw him, I’m sure I thought he was pretty cute, because by the time we were introduced I definitely thought he was hot. I’m sure it sounds trite in this day and age, but we first met at a church dance. I might have made a better impression if my best friend, Mary, hadn’t been sitting on my lap. I knew a lot of his friends, but David had been in Alaska for two years. I vaguely remembered that Dennis the DJ had mentioned this guy that wrecked his little, old Porsche. So, our friend Paul walked up with the new guy that I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of. I knew right away that he was the one. I mean he was The One! Of course, I had no idea how to let him know that.

My dating history wasn’t all that fantastic. I wouldn’t count any of the “dates” I went on in high school as real, only one other boy that would even come close to being called a “boyfriend” and a few innocent kisses with unrealistic young men. This was my foundation. I would discover much later that his story was as far from mine as possible. I think he dated every girl he ever met. Of course, he was gorgeous; at least in my opinion. He was WAY out of my league. But I didn’t care. I wanted him. I tried to steel myself for the inevitable heartbreak.

So, back to that concrete slab outside Arizona State University and my 19 year-old self. It was a Friday night in October and the evenings were finally cool enough to wear something other than shorts and a t-shirt, but I probably was anyway. I would definitely describe myself as casual, leaning toward what we used to call “mod”. I probably wanted to be a punk, but was too much of a rule follower and smart kid to go all the way. I would definitely shred my black tights, but no spiked dog collar for me! I’d like to say, “I’ll always remember what I wore the night we met.” But I don’t. It was probably a GAP t-shirt and cut-off jeans. Pretty sexy, eh? I don’t even remember what he was wearing. I probably never took my eyes off his face, the deep-set eyes (Were they blue or green?), cheek bones, and yes, of course a dimple! Brown hair brushed the tops of his strong eyebrows. I was definitely smitten.

I’m sure we danced. I was one of the few people there that he knew. I was friends with all of his friends, automatically part of the same group. I don’t know the songs, something 80’s, not country. We seemed to have similar taste in music, Depeche Mode, the Cure. I was always trying to get Dennis (remember, the DJ, one of our common friends) to play more alternative music. Surely people would dance to the Dead Milkmen and the Pixies. Dennis seemed to think otherwise. He never would play Panic, by the Smiths, I just didn’t get it. Maybe it was Howard Jones. I do remember we both loved to dance to Howard Jones.

What I remember most is the dreamy feeling leaving the dance. I recall my nervousness mentioning my sudden crush to Mary on our way home that night. She was much cuter than me, a boy magnet. I won’t even go into other crushes I had who ended up dating Mary, with her fiery red hair, and calling me to discuss the relationship with a “friend”. Pain in the butt! So, I wanted to know if my best friend thought he was as cute as I did, but I definitely didn’t want to draw her attention to my imagined future spouse. She conceded that he was “alright”, but hadn’t really paid much attention to him. Her focus must have been elsewhere that night. I was satisfied.

my terrible experience with cell phone insurance

Last week Lauren dropped her phone in the bucket of soapy water while she was washing the car. Crazy, right? So nothing happens until about Friday when suddenly her phone won't turn on. "No big deal", I think, "We paid for the insurance on this phone." So we grab the receipt and box and toddle off to T-mobile to find out about getting a new phone. I explain what happened to the kid at the T-mobile and he smiles knowingly and pulls up our information on the computer.
"Wait", he says, "you don't have insurance on this phone." Well, I saw something on my account that seemed a little strange the day before so I explained that I had bought the phone for my husband, but he didn't like it, but when Lauren trashed her old one, he just switched the sim cards and took his old standard flip phone back. Of course, I had the original receipt showing that I had purchased the insurance on this phone and had been making the payments all along, about 10 months or $60.
Well, the kid informs me that insurance stays with the phone line, not the phone, which is ridiculous, because how many times do you drop your phone # into the toilet? Never, right? And so, even though I have a receipt for the phone and it says "handset protection and warranty" right on it apparently, I have insurance on David's stupid little flip phone.
I try to make some headway with this kid and he suggests that I talk directly to Assurant, the insurance company. I explain my predicament to them and they tell me the exact same thing. They say they're really sorry, but so many people try to scam them by trading phones when they don't have insurance that they can't do anything about it. (of course this is the exact opposite of what we did)
I explain again that I have the original receipt with the purchase of the phone and the "handset protection warranty" and both phone numbers are on the same account. We are the original owners. The phone hasn't switched owners, just users. However, this makes no difference. I ask to talk to the supervisor to whom I must explain the whole thing again. She comes on the line after the first person says that he's explained the situation to her. I ask if she know what's going on and she says, "Well I understand that you want to replace a phone that you don't have insurance on." I was fuming! I re-explain the whole thing and she basically says, sorry, Is there any thing else we can do for you. No! You can do what I've been paying you for 10 months to do. Oh, and during this conversation, they inform me that there would be a $40 replacement fee for the phone if they did cover it, so maybe I could just find a $40 phone for my kid.
Let's just forget that I bought this touch screen, web-enabled browser phone for my husband.
So I get off the phone with the &@#^ insurance company and the T-mobile kid suggests that I talk to the people at "customer loyalty" since I have been a loyal customer for so long and I'm now threatening to cancel my 3 phones. So I call and have to explain the situation to the first rep and then again to the loyalty department and they offer to take $40 off the price of a replacement phone. So after spending $60 on insurance, I can spend another $105 and get a replacement phone, or I can get a crappy phone for $40.
This begins to seriously tick me off.

Who in the world needs insurance on their phone #? I bought insurance on a phone!

Why does Mardi Gras sound so much more attractive than Fat Tuesday?

Since it was my day for dinner co-op, I decided I needed to do something for this holiday that I don't actually celebrate. I actually kind of think the idea of Lent is cool. Sometimes I've done it, mostly not. but I've been craving seafood lately and this seemed like a good excuse.
So, we started with the idea of Shrimp gumbo... but apparently I can't move the photos from my facebook to here so...
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150204541607222&set=a.388570467221.212357.775997221&ref=nf

Anyway, we have a few people who don't like seafood (Mom), so I started out with some sausage that Meg had left over and cut up some chicken too, so that those people would have some food. My "research" showed that anything that runs, walks, swims, or flies can go into gumbo as long as you use a roux to set it. The recipe then suggested sauteeing okra "until the slimy strings stop forming". I thought, "hmm, let's just add spinach instead." The recipe called for oysters, shrimp, and crab, but I am cheap and crab is expensive right now, plus I didn't want to shell it and I didn't want the fake stuff. I figured with the chicken and sausage, oysters and shrimp would just about push us over the top on meat, which would be perfect considering the day. Next, I threw in some onions, garlic, celery, and carrots all diced up to sautee with the meat.
Once that cooked down, I put some in the other dish before adding the oysters (canned) and shrimp (tails on) and letting that cook. Next came canned tomatoes, the spinach, a couple bay leaves off the tree, vegeta (special eastern European seasoning that Elise introduced us to) some seasoned salt, salt, pepper, some water and pour the roux in once the other stuff has a chance to heat up. It was kind of a lot of work, but worth it.
I repurposed the leftover spanish rice from the night before into my version of dirty rice to serve it over.
I must admit, by the time I ate it, I could almost imagine I was sitting in the dim gaslight of Papadeaux (which is the closest I've been to New Orleans).
We had some toasted asiago bread and brie to go with.
Okay, I have to admit there was a flaw to my menu. I had already bought the cabbage to make cabbage crunch salad, and of course, that has a bit of an asian flair, but whose to say they don't have asian chefs in N.O. who wouldn't do the same thing. Thanks to Lauren and Mom for stepping in to put the salad together while I kept adding continuous ingredients to the gumbo. (It wouldn't be dinner at our house if someone didn't burn the almonds or the toast.)

My conclusion:
Dinner tasted good, but I'm not sure I have the patience to do that on a regular basis. I seem to have been choosing labor intensive dinners lately (frying tortilla bowls for the taco salad on Monday). It's probably the bounce back from pneumonia February.

I will try to get the pictures on here. I should know better than to use my phone, but I couldn't find my camera.
Then Mom had a watermelon that she balled to share, yum!

I HEART PACKAGES!!!

I know, all caps is really obnoxious, but I really, really love getting packages in the mail. It's amazing to me that I don't shop online more. I remember the first time that I "mail ordered" something. It was my first year of college and I ordered clothes from Au Coton. (If you know what that is, it dates us both, so I'm ok with it.) I was so excited then and I was still just as exited yesterday when this arrived in the mail.

Yay! the package that I ordered from www.PrairieBirdBoutique.etsy.com arrived! 

First, obviously, I ordered this so I know what's in it. (see previous post) Second, I'm addicted to ribbon, so I'm super excited. Finally, another blogger (sorry I forgot who, someone I followed a link from Tip Junkie to) posted about how cute her package was when it arrived. So I see the package on the counter and am amazed that David didn't open it since it's addressed to him (because the paypal account is in his name). When I open the package, I see this...

So cute! Notice the tiny little flower in the middle of the bow. Who wouldn't want to open this package? So, of course, I do...

and I pull out this. All that ribbon on top... I didn't order that. She just put it in to pretty it up, and entice me back. Good job, probably successful. I actually ordered the crinkled dyed seam binding ribbon underneath.

Look at all these gorgeous colors. There are lots more, these are just the ones I couldn't resist. The price ends up being about .35 a yard, fabulous! The variegated was a little more, but so worth it, so pretty. Also inside was this precious post card...

with this nice little note...

Very sweet. Would be great marketing, if I knew what her other etsy shop was?! I'll probably hunt for it.

So, showing all this fun stuff to my Mom and talking about what to do with it, I suddenly remeber that I have some wool balls from Anthro that have been sitting all the shelf since Christmas waiting for me to decide what to do with them. Yarn balls, meet Wrinkled seam binding...

and form a sweet little family for me to wear to church.

So, yay for packages in the mail, yay for pretty ribbon, yay for great presentation plus free stuff, because , of course, looks are everything. Great day!

Etsy

It's hard for me to go on Etsy, because I want to buy everything. The other day I followed a thread from the Tip Junkie, who is great. I ended up here...

And I bought this... 

along with this...

and a couple others as well. I'm sure that I could make these myself, and maybe I will in the future, but these are so pretty and a great idea. I love them and am waiting expectantly for the package to arrive.

An aside, we had breakfast for dinner last night in honor of Nat'l Pancake Day (which I'm pretty sure IHOP just made up). Well, we showed them! We ate pancakes at home. I'm not in love with this plan. I sat at the stove cooking pancakes for what felt like hours. This was even with a griddle, so I could cook 8 at a time. They were yummy though, with whipped cream, strawberries, and blueberries, and a little syrup for the bacon to touch. The kids loved it.

Also, going to the livestock auction with my Bro today to get a couple calves to raise for some home-grown beef. (if you want in on this, let me know. About $50 buys you a share with about 14 lbs of prime beef. You can't beat $3.50 a lb for knowing where your meat comes from.)

Burnt Limpa bread

So, I kind of wish this is what my bread looked like. Mine was a little, um, darker on top. I forgot to take a picture. After a month of not wanting to do anything (see previous post), I decided that I needed to be more productive. My nephew Brecken really wanted Potato and Pea soup for dinner co-op tonight, so I thought homemade bread would go well with it. David's mom is Swedish and she introduced me to a delicious bread called Limpa bread. She gets it at a little bakery near Sugarhouse in SLC. She usually goes once a year and buys about 20 loaves and freezes them. They maybe last the summer. David loves it as a pb&j. I just like it with a thin layer of butter. It is a beautiful dark bread with rye, caraway, and anise.
I've tried to make Limpa bread before with disastrous results. No one would eat it, not even me. So I looked on the web for a recipe with some good reviews. I found a tip that suggested boiling the caraway and anise in liquid for a milder flavor. That sounded good, since the last time the bread tasted like black licorice. I found a recipe for a no-knead artisan loaf that sounded pretty easy and went to the store for yeast, spices, and rye flour. (This is when Lauren called to come home from school sick.)
Well, I started the dough a little bit later than I had planned. It tasted good though, so I was encouraged. Down a kitchen helper, and left with the little one (she's 12) who's afraid of knives and potato peelers, I was still a little slow in the kitchen. I really love potato soup when the onions, celery, and potatoes are sauteed in olive oil first and cooking for 15 takes a few potatoes. So, the bread went in the oven about 5:10, probably not to be ready by the usual 5:30. At 5:45, the top of the bread was still not brown. The oven has been heating a little low lately and the button won't go above 350*. (probably time to fix it, but then we'd have fewer adventures) I decided that a minute or 2 on broil would do the trick. I decide this a lot. I also burn bread a lot. Anyway, the top was just a wee bit darker than it should have been, but it was still yummy with the soup. It wasn't really anything like the bread from that SLC bakery, but still tasty. btw, how do they get dark brown bread? I don't get it.

Peeuwwmonia

Wow, apparently having pneumonia takes away all kinds of energy for anything, even typing on a blog. I'm coming back though.

This I believe... religiously

Recently I have bumped up against several mentions in national arenas of my faith. I belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, LDS, or commonly referred to as the "Mormons". Anybody who wants to know what all Mormons believe can easily gain access to "The Articles of Faith" on www.lds.org. What follows are my personal beliefs with the context of that framework.
     I believe that Jesus Christ is my personal Lord and Savior; that he literally came to earth, born to a virgin as the Son of God. He lived in, what we now call, Israel. Although the man who raised him was a carpenter, he was the rightful heir to the house of David. The young Jesus trained to become a rabbi, but he knew who he truly was and is. He selected several men from his followers to help him share the New Law. Some of these men demonstrated their own human frailties in their lives. The existing hierarchy of the church was not fond of Jesus. Together, with the Romans, they put him to death by cricifixion. He was placed in a borrowed tomb. On the 3rd day, he rose again. He first appeared to Mary Magdalene. He ascended to his Father, but returned to bear witness to his disciples. He allowed his life to be taken to atone for the sins of mankind and take our sorrows from us. From the life, death, and resurrection of this man came many churches based on one religion; the religion of Christ.
     I believe that I am a daughter of a Heavenly Father who loves me and I love him. This is also the father of Jesus Christ. I believe that I show my love for my Father-in-Heaven by following his commandments including the 10 Commandments given to the prophet Moses, as well as others given by the Savior and the prophets. I believe that in order to live with God again, I must do the best I can with what I know and look to my Savior for forgiveness of my sins. As hard as I try, and I will continue to try, I would always fall short without the atonement of Christ.
     I believe that the Holy Ghost, the 3rd member of the Godhead exists and is there to be a comforter and protector of mankind. I have felt his presence in my life and have come to understand the love that a Heavenly Father has for his children through his influence.
     I believe that the Lord has placed prophets on the earth to lead people to the gospel. He did this in both ancient and modern times. Moses did not ask to lead the children of Israel. He was called by God. Likewise, John the Baptist was ordained by God to preach of the coming of the Savior. Prophets were also sent to the Americas to lead the people there. During the time known as the Dark Ages, prophets were not on the earth. However, God would not leave the world he created without spiritual leadership. A boy who had been chosen, just like Moses and John, read in the Bible that if he lacked wisdom, he could ask God. With pure faith, he went into a grove of trees and asked. He certainly did not expect to see God, but he did. Despite persecution and death, he never would deny what he saw. He was given an ancient record by an angel. Eventually he showed the gold plates to 8 other men. Some of these men would go on to leave the church that was organised by Joseph Smith, but none would deny the existence of the plates.
     I do not claim to understand all of the works or intents of God. I do not know why Blacks were denied the priesthood in the early days of the church. I do know that Joseph Smith was opposed to slavery and a supporter of people of color in general. I certainly don't claim to understand polygamy, but I know it existed in the primitive church as well as in the early days of LDS history. Moses and Brigham Young were both polygamists. They both had some problems because of it. My 3rd great-grandfather, A.O. Smoot, was a polygamist. I have studied his life and find no evidence that he was a lecherous man. Indeed he was a philanthropist. My 3rd great-grandmother, Anne Mauritzdotter, was alone in the world when A.O.'s first wife suggested that she wed her husband (wife #4). I don't know what she thought, but she accepted and gave birth to a future senator as well as my grandmother's grandmother. Despite my lack of understanding, experience and logic show me that this church teaches truth, as instructed by God. (btw, polygamy is no longer practiced in the LDS church.)
     I believe that the family is an eternal structure given to us by our Heavenly Father to help us through our earthly trials, even if sometimes they are our earthly trials. I believe that the bonds of family are strong, eternal, and good. I have felt the guiding hands of my ancestors in my life. There is nothing more important to me than my role in this plan of our Father-in-Heaven, to raise my children in a way that is pleasing to him.
     This I believe.

A thank you note

When I'm done writing this, I should probably send it to Glenn Beck.
Dear Glenn Beck,
I felt compelled to write you this note to thank you for the contributions you are making to our society in the U.S. I am a regular watcher of your television show. I honestly can't remember when I first started watching, but I do remember why. My family has always been interested in politics and preserving the God-given freedoms that we enjoy in this country. My younger brother has been a huge fan of yours and showed me the video of your conversion to the LDS faith. I felt a connection with this and your fact-based, Constitution-based ideology. I watched my brother add the books that you would recommend to his perpetual Christmas list. We would have Saturday discussions after watching taped episodes of your show. I started taping your show at home and would watch it late at night. My youngest sister and her family attended the Rally to Restore Honor. We enviously watched from home. I appreciate the research that you do and share with your audience.
I also recently finished reading your book with Dr. Keith Ablow, The 7 Wonders That Will Change Your Life. It was really the perfect time in my life to read this book.  I am a conservative woman living in Arizona. In light of the recent events in Tucson, this is a somewhat difficult position. I was extremely upset by the senseless disregard for human life taken by the shooter. As I listened to and read the news about the events, I was disturbed by the rush to judgement that the shooter must have been driven by the conservative talkers. I began to get angry and spend more time reading and watching people placing blame for this man's actions on others. Thankfully, at this time I was also reading the section of your book on compassion. I realized that, while one can and should still work to correct misconceptions, my being angry at rash commentary was not improving the situation. I was able to let go of my anger and focus on reasonable discourse on the great chasm of truth in our society.
Additonally, I have never been an alcoholic or addicted to drugs, but I appreciated the honesty and depth of feeling in your stories of overcoming these trials. Of course, I do have trials of my own. I recently left my teaching job after 5 years of feeling that I was spending more of my time on other people's children than my own. My husband and I have struggled with financial issues. My father had a stroke that left him paralyzed on one side of his body and my mother was coming into a situation where she would be caring for him on her own 24/7. (She is lucky/blessed enough to have several therapists who come to their home.) We prayerfully decided (with my mom) that we should move into her large home to help her care for my dad. I have worried about not making a financial contribution to our family situation. I am now looking for breadcrumbs, some of which I may have overlooked, that will help me follow the path that will be helpful to me and my family.
Finally, I just want to restate my thanks to you for your contribution. I've read several of your other books and enjoyed them as well. This one really resonated with me. I took notes. When I finished, I started making lists of things that I love to do. (I really love history!) I've started thinking back to the inspiration that has been given to me and looking for future inspiration. Thank you for sharing this book and your experiences with me.

Sincerely,

Monique Fullmer

Things I'd like to do this year.

not in any order
1. read my scriptures more often
2. spend quality time with my girls

3. celebrate our 20th anniversary with David by taking a trip together. (It would be the 1st trip together, without the kids since they were born. Some ideas pictured here.)
4. Get more exercise.
5. be more financially responsible.
6. be aware of the world around me and active in it.
7. read some good books.
8. work on family history.
9. be a good, kind, positive person
10. learn something new.
to be continued...

Shutterfly Christmas

Merry Christmas! Time flies, whether you’re having fun or not. So let’s get crackin’. Shutterfly is doing a really cool Christmas promotion! They’re offering fifty free Christmas cards if you blog about it on your blog site. I looked at their Christmas cards and they have tons of really cute options. Their photo cards with the candy stripes are some of my favorites. Look here, and you can see for yourself.
http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/christmas-photo-cards
So, my plan this year is to use a photo of my kids that I took with big wax lips in their mouths. They are so hilarious! Lauren looks rather amazingly like Lucille Ball. Emma is, of course, a little more reserved, but she participated willingly. I think this will be so adorable with a red candy stripe card. This will be my first time using Shutterfly and I’m really looking forward to it.
Of course, they also have really cute invitations if you have an event coming up, ya know, like your big New Year’s Eve party. Check these out… http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/party-cards-stationery
While you’re checking out this stuff, hop on over and take a peek at their equally cute Christmas address labels. Your Christmas cards will definitely be the most stylish ones on the post office conveyer belt.
http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/christmas-address-labels

So, do you like any of these pictures? Which one would you choose?

Open letter to VP Biden (still under construction

September 27, 2010

Dear Vice-President Biden,

I respect the sacrifice that you have made of your time to serve your country in a rather thankless job. I understand that being the vice president of the United States must be extremely stressful and difficult.

I would like to share one idea with you. I believe that, as a role model for our nation’s children, it is important not to curse. I recall Charles Barkley’s famous quote when a similar complaint was directed at him, “I am not a role model.” I even appreciated the message that he followed with, that parents and others closer to the children should be the true role models, not a sports star. I’m sure that in the situations that you are in, there are rarely children around and they probably don’t come to mind during your conversations. However, in the position that you hold, children should look to you as a model and a successful guide.

I am a school teacher. (So I can relate to the thankless job.) I realize that I am presenting anecdotal evidence; however, it seems pretty consistent. Having taught sixth grade for a few years, I began to notice a pattern. Children who swear at school seem to demonstrate less regard for their parents, teachers, and education in general. I don’t know what the statistical correlation actually is, but it is there. Students who consistently swear generally perform less well in their studies and have more discipline problems. Interestingly, some of my most difficult students were the ones whose parents didn’t care if they cursed.

Of course, I know you are an adult and have many freedoms that children should not be allowed. We restrict children from drinking alcohol and place the age for voting at an age when they have had a chance to mature and improve in reasoning skills. Adults are capable of deciding what is appropriate in their own lives. However, when children hear respected adults use foul language, they believe that using similar language makes them more adult as well.

I have heard throughout my life that swear-words are vocabulary for the uneducated. Obviously times have changed and such language is heard in every walk of life. It is simply my opinion that the dignity of the office you hold is denigrated by the use of foul language, and that hurts us all.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Monique Fullmer