Thrifty Thursday

Ah, the almighty coupon.

Nope, I don't buy hundreds of newspapers a week. Yes, we get the Sunday paper and the coupons that come with that. Nope, I don't dumpster dive, I do purchase a few coupons from e-bay. Usually, I pay 10 cents for a $2.00 off coupon for coffee that we buy. I never buy anything on line without first checking two or three sites for a coupon for free shipping or a percentage off.

Many coupons out there are good on boxed cereal (we don't usually buy those), laundry soap (nope, make my own), toothpaste (we buy non fluoride, organic, no coupons), and since we do not buy boxed products, we loose out on using those. We make our own dog food and treats so we don't.....wait we do use those. We buy the products and donate them to the animal shelter. Any time we want to buy junk food like potato chips, we make sure we use a coupon. I use coupons for personal products and we fill our college and military care packages with those.

I keep a zippered plastic pencil holder pouch in the glove box of our car. It holds coupons for stores that I drive to. Joann Fabrics, Bed, Bath & Beyond, Jiffy Lube, local grocery stores, coffee shop, you get the idea. By keeping them in the car, we never forget them at home, once at a place of business.

I spend about 15 minutes a week on "couponing". Yes, I have watched the Ultimate Supreme Couponers on television. No, I do not spend 8 hours a day clipping coupons. Sure I send an e-mail now and then to a company with a product that we love or use often. Sometimes, they send out a coupon or two.

2011 I only couponed 11 months out of the year. I took the month of August off for surgery. We continue to refine our diet and eat healthier and make better choices so our couponing is not quite as easy. I jot down the coupons each shopping trip on the calendar. End of the month, I just add up, circle and then move on. I add them at the end of the year. Keeps me motivated to continue another year.

I keep my coupons in a three ring binder. Otherwise, I think it would make me crazy to dig around in a paper bag and just pull out a coupon here or there. I go through
the baseball card sleeve pages about once a month and check expiraton dates. Easy and quick.

So here are some totals for my 15 minutes a week "work".

2009 saved a total of $1,394.94
2010 saved a total of $1,794.67
2011 saved a total of $1, 442.82

A grand total for three years equals $4,632.43. The very next time someone tells you that you can't really save any money using coupons, refer them to this blog post. I bed to differ.

I have a friend who says don't say "thrifty" say THRIVING. So here you go,
Thriving on Thursday.

choose happy

I love the comment on another blog today.......she said, "isn't it funny what makes us happy on the inside?"

She drives by a farm in rural South Carolina on the way to work each day.

The farm is called "Hissy Fit Farm".

Made me smile.

ps. I love the book called Hissy Fit, too.

manners come in a uniform too

Yesterday, on my way to do a couple errands a huge SUV was tail gating me. I could not even see the license plate they were that close.

I am too wise (read that as too old) to play that game. I just put on my blinker and pulled over on the side of the road to let them pass.

RED AND BLUE FLASHING LIGHTS.............right behind me!

Officer comes to the window and asks if there is a problem.

I said, first I had no idea you were a Sheriff. Second, I do not appreciate being tailgated so closely that I could not even see your license plate. Obviously, you were in a bigger hurry than I was. I am not interested in having someone follow so closely on my fanny. It is dangerous and rude.

He said I am sorry. He took a deep breath and said, "Maam, I apoligize for my rude driving."

I said thank you.

He said have a nice day. I said you, too.

Having and using good manners do fix some problems.

The hottest Spaghetti Sauce I have ever eaten

Yesterday, my mother in law passed away. I will share her recipe for sauce.
Seems like the right thing to do.

My first home cooked dinner date (1981) with Mr. Right he made his mother's Spaghetti Sauce. I was so impressed that he cooked and it all looked so nice with the table set and ready.

I took one bite and my eyes watered. Yep, I kept on eating. It was so spicy hot I thought my head would explode. I was never so happy to see a sweet chocolate pie brought out for dessert in my life. Ah, cool, sweetness for my tongue.

It is not my favorite. Everyone in the family has the recipe. It is suppose to be secret. I really detest when people say recipes should be kept secret and not shared. I love the idea of being remembered by a special recipe or treat. I love the idea of taking some one's recipe and tweaking it just a bit to make it work for your family. I love the idea of sharing recipes.

Here is her recipe. May she rest in Peace.



Elaine Percival Hunter Wilson's Spaghetti Sauce

(Stanstead, Quebec, Canada)



4 Tablespoon (in which you fry 2 small chopped onions)
1 pound ground pork
1 pound ground beef
Add to onions and salt & pepper to taste. Cook for 15 minutes until color
changes.

In another pan combine:
4 Tablespoons oil
2 small chopped onions
1 10 ounce can tomato paste
1 10 ounce can tomato juice

Heat just to boiling and add:
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 Tablespoon white sugar
4 cloves chopped garlic
8 cloves
5 dried red peppers
3 bay leaves
1 cup water

When this is hot add the meat and onion mixture and cook slowly for 3.5 hours.

Sometimes this sauce is very hot and other times it is just right. You can freeze the sauce, however, you may want to remove some or all of the peppers.

Being nice matters

Politeness is the art of choosing
among one's real thoughts.

~abel stevens

December 26th

All is calm.

With the exception of not being able to sleep.
I guess too keyed up? Visions of planning a cookie/
dessert party for next December is dancing in my head.
Crazy, I know.

All is good.


ps. Santa brought me a whole spool of red and white kitchen string.
Hip, hip, hooray! Oh yes, and oodles and oodles of other sweet things.

Apparently, the "being nice" thing paid off. :)

Merry Christmas

Peace on Earth, Goodwill towards men.

God Bless us everyone.

a first for me

Currently, I am reading "A Homemade Life" by Molly Wizenberg. It is a wonderful book to fall into. Filled with lovely writings and heavenly sounding recipes. It inspires me want to cook and bake and renew my spirit in the kitchen.

Lately, I have been reading hundreds of blogs on cooking and baking. I get three magazines monthly, in the mail about cooking. I pour over my own cook books and stacks of em from the library.

With the exception of yesterday, I have had the oven going every single day this month.

I have lists of things I am going to be baking and cooking next.

Is it any wonder, for the first time in my entire life, I could not sleep, got up and stole three cookies to eat at one in the morning? I have never had a bit of food of any kind in the middle of the night, not ever. So do I re-brush my teeth?
Do I jump foolishly back into our warm bed and fall asleep with a bit of sugar and a smile on my lips? This is new territory for me. It is delightful.

Some girls have visions of sugar plums dancing in the heads, I had my favorite Christmas cookie. My sinful twist on the Jewish Ruglach, is to dip them in a thin sugar glaze right after they are done baking and let them cool & harden.

When you take a bite into the soft dough, your teeth break through the ever so slight film of sugar glaze. Once you pass by the sweet tender dough, the cinnamon and ground walnuts play a little jig for you on your tongue.

Oh my, who knew it would be the simple cookie that would have me tumble from grace?

What a delicious and lovely way to go.

I found it.

Today, while walking through our neighborhood, I found it. Right smack dab across the street from our home. Our neighbor guy is friendly, has a great laugh, wears a hat and has a beard. There he was, sitting down & working with a huge smile on his face. I think perhaps the dog and I stumbled upon Santa's workshop! No reindeer, however, they do have two, friendly black labs. His hat is usually a baseball hat, not a red velvet one with white trim and his beard is more pepper than salt. Yet there he was smiling and building and full of good cheer. He was putting together one of those little cars children can drive themselves, this one was HOT PINK, yikes.
This particular "Santa" had boys. Now, he has a little grand girlie. Apparently, a little grand girlie who will be driving in our neighborhood in a couple days! As we passed by, his voice sort of echoed in the garage when he shouted out with a wave, Merry Christmas!

After our walk, we came home. One of us took a nap, the other fired up the sewing machine and got to work. I had a little, tiny doll dress to make for an eleven inch doll. Once her new dress and headband were finished, I put her down in her new doll bed. I covered her up ever so gently with her brand new hand made doll quilt. It had some of the same colors as the freshly painted lime green bed with pink and orange stripes and swirls.

Eureka, maybe there is a secret sewing room, garage, "workshop" in every house we pass? That makes me smile. Santa has quite a few helpers.

Helpers don't have to wear pointy shoes and green outfits and goofy hats. Some helpers wear jeans and a warm black sweater topped off with a jaunty foam green scarf.

Oh, and that doll dress? Yep, it has a jingle bell sewn in the seam. Might help keep Christmas in someones heart all year long.

love

No huge reason for posting this.
Just home from a walk in the brisk December air with my
Golden Retriever, Sweet Liberty.
She makes my life happy.
period.
the end.

notes of grace

The cards, notes and pictures are coming in fast and furious. We have run out of space in our usual display area. We have started taping them up to a door. I really, really love receiving and giving Christmas cards.

I am ashamed of all of my grumbling while I was trying to get all of ours done and mailed out this year. I take it all back. It is wonderful, just simply happy and joyful to receive so many lovely and heartfelt cards. We love learning about every one's events over the last year.

When the boys were young we started a tradition that each day after Christmas, we would choose four cards at random. We would include those families in our prayers and we would read the cards out loud and talk about & reminisce about each family.
The tradition continues. We always choose our favorite card of the year. We enjoy looking at the pictures. We re-read the Christmas letters. It gently reminds us how lucky we are to have so many nice folks in our lives.

This year so far we have learned about:

four anticipated grand babies on the way
picture of a two month old grand baby
graduation from 6th grade
graduation from college
one young person bought their first home
continued prison ministry
graduation from WSP in March
sports accomplishments
piano lessons
karate lessons
dance lessons
two brand new engaged couples
two with wedding pictures
travels to:
China
Belgium
the Grand Canyon
Hawaii
Cozumel
Hearst Castle
beach, more beach and yet more beach

This year the cards we have received more than ever before have pictures of doves. Lots of glitter and blue, silver & white this year. Oh sure there is the purple and gold of the local team as well as an amazing glitter covered Joshua Tree. Many have the manger, simple and meaningful. Stars, stars and more stars grace the cover of several cards.

We joke and grumble about including a letter in our cards, however, we sure enjoy receiving them. We love getting caught up on all the news that is the news. It makes me happy and grateful that friends and neighbors want to share the good news in their lives.

Sure there are some that shared sad or disappointing news. Stories of not tip top
health, sad losses and frustration job changes & uncertainty. To counter that, almost every single written letter said they were praying for our troops and military. Almost every single letter said they were thinking of us and praying for our family. Every single card and letter wished us a happy and healthy New Year.

With this many people sharing positive thoughts and uplifting prayers, how can we not have a wonderful New Year?

With each card we open a little bit of goodness falls out and graces us each with the true spirit of the season.

We are shaped and fashioned by what we love. ~goethe

loss of words

One of the soldiers we (and some of you) have been supporting through cards and packages came home yesterday. sigh, big sigh of relief. He looked a little rough and tired. He got off the plane at Sea-Tac, his dad picked him up and went directly to Mr. Rights's office. To shake hands. period. Nothing needed to be said. Oh sure, you know who said "Welcome Home Soldier." They were both mighty glad to look at the whites of each others' eyes and be able to shake hands. I am sure a million and one things crossed both their minds. I am glad he is home, safe and will be able to stay for the rest of the Christmas holiday. Time to breathe, regroup and then be on his way to his new base in Texas.

It was Fort Sill, Oklahoma and Mr. Right was not able to come home for Christmas. Son number one was 9 and son number two was 6 years old. I was worried about the day. So needless to say, over planned.

The three of us attended candle light services the night before. We did not get home until after midnight. (I shouldn't even go into two particular boys who were alter boys that night and began sword fighting with the brass candle lighters in front of the congregation.) It was a very long walk up that isle for me. In front of all the people. I said nothing. I just walked to the front and sat in the first row. People made room for me, not a word was said. Everyone just held their breath and watched me take a seat. Nothing needed to be said.

Christmas morning came around and yes, Santa had left presents and stockings were filled. Once the gift opening was finished we had a hearty breakfast and took showers, we had a date to keep. You see, I knew better than to sit home and feel sorry for ourselves. So, we had signed up to serve Christmas dinner at a homeless shelter. They served dinner from noon to 3 pm. We dressed. We arrived early and were instantly put to work. I got to cut pies and bread and cakes and more pies. I saw son number one helping with chairs and talking, talking and greeting everyone. He was helping to bring more food and he was pouring water. That was his job, keep those water glasses filled and keep the food coming. He was doing an amazing job for a 9 year old. I didn't see son number two at first. I was getting worried. I was ready to go find him. I kept looking around. The gal in charge asked if everything was okay? I said no, I could not find my son. She said relax, he is working.............see there he is. Yep, that was his him alright. I guess I didn't recognize my blond, toe headed short 6 year old boy with an apron on, serving COFFEE! HOT coffee. Yep, walking around keeping every one's cup full. WHAT? HOT COFFEE, he is not old enough to serve hot beverages! The gal in charge said, I beg to differ. He seems to be holding his own, not spilling a drop and keeping everyone happy. I went back to my assigned job.

Those hours flew by. When we were done and climbed back into the van, no words were needed. We were all tired. We had all done a great job.

Home to change and go to the college (only place around with any sort of hills). Those new skateboards were calling their names. So we drove over and they played and played and played like 9 & 6 year old boys are suppose to. I sat and looked over a new cookbook someone had given me.

We headed home for some dinner and we put a video in the VCR. Everyone fell asleep watching it.

The day had been filled to overflowing. I was trying to keep us all busy. When it was time for bed, I heard no pleadings for just "five more minutes". Nothing. No words were needed. We had made it through the day.

We made it through the day. God shed his Grace on thee. During 22 years serving in the Army, luckily I can say that was our only Christmas that Mr. Right had to miss. It was difficult, yet he was not in harms way.

Today, I will pray for grace for the families that will be spent with one person still serving in harms way. Nothing needs to be said, just prayers lifted for them all.

God, please shed your Grace on thee.

Tuesday's Treats

I like to have an appetizer ready a few days a week when Mr. Right walks through the door.

This is one we both love and enjoy often.

Hummus

To the food processor, combine 2 cloves garlic and one can of garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed, 1/3 cup tahini (roasted, not raw) 1/8 cup fresh lemon juice, 1/4 cup water and a sprig of parsley. Process until smooth. Add in 1/4 to 1/3 cup olive oil and 1/2 teaspoon of salt. Process. Spoon into a serving dish and sprinkle with toasted pine nuts and chopped parsley.

I am serving it tonight with Greek Pita Bread, toasted and brushed with garlic butter, cut into wedges.

Nice to have something to enjoy a bit before dinner is served.

Happy Hannukah

Happy Hannukah! To the triumph of light over darkness,
good over evil, Happy Hannukah to all.

Strasbourg, France

It is always around this time of year that I look back at our winter in France.
We were privileged to enjoy several trips through the years, however winter was
unlike no other time.

We were lucky enough to be stationed in Germany at the same time family friends were stationed nearby. We travelled together several times once even for the men to teach at a family conference in the Bavarian region.

One particular trip we took together was to a Christmas Market to Strasbourg, France. It was cold and a bit windy. We were all bundled up. My feet were cold from walking on the pavement and cobble stones in the town. When you ducked under an awning of a shopkeeper you could feel the warmth of the little space heaters. No where near warm enough to take off your gloves, just warm enough to want to stay a bit and look at the goods and ornaments for sale.

They have two children as do we. Being the "good" mom's our goal first was always to keep the kids fed and safely within our reach. I was always figuring out to feed them before an outing so no one was hungry and grumpy. This trip was no different. Snacks in the car and food when we got to our destination. I usually ate then. For some reason, I did not.

Once walking through the many shops and being fascinated with the town's decorations and smelling all the wonderful warm food smells, I reached my limit. I wanted something to eat. Just a little something. I saw a stall with a woman cooking crepes right there. You could see the steam coming off the iron. She was bundled up in coat and scarf and was working away. You could smell the batter beginning to cook just as she poured it onto the hot surface. Most of you know, I am not a big fan of chocolate, however, Nutella is a whole other story. I ordered (well, Mr. Right ordered in French) a Crepe filled with melted Nutella. It was done. She put it onto a plate and dusted with powdered sugar. There was a plastic white spoon. Mr. Right handed it to me. He paid and we ushered the kids and family off and on our way. I was behind everyone. I was doddling and walking a bit slow. I could
feel the warmth through my glove as I held the plate. I tried the plastic fork. I really did. It just wasn't going to work. I took off one glove and picked up the
crepe and took that first wonderful & warm delicious bite. I sank my front teeth into the tender dough. I could just begin to taste the heavenly goodness about to lay upon my tongue. Oh my, how lucky was I?

In a flash, it was gone. WHAT? Yep, right in the middle of the perfect Christmas market in the middle of Strasbourg, a person begging for food, grabbed my plate and snatched away my crepe right as I took that first bite. I stopped and was stunned. Shocked really. I started to cry. My family and friends were walking ahead and did not know what had happened. Our friend, John is pretty darn tall, I could see him above the crowd. My eyes followed him. Pretty soon, Mr. Right turned to check on me. He saw I was crying. He came back in an instant. Once I gulped and sniffed and cried and told him my "horrid" ordeal. He said well, "guess they were more hungry than you". I had lost my appetite.

We went about the rest of the day. In case you didn't know I live in a bubble. I have never been so hungry to steel food from someones mouth. I have never gone without. As much as I tried, I could not and still can not get that person out of my mind.

However, over the years, their face has faded. Another story that day has replaced some of the memory.

We were at the very end of the market, crossing over a little bridge to go back to our warm and comfortable cars. We were all chilled. It was enough for one day.
As we walked across, there were ladies standing on the side, begging for anything. I saw Mr. Right reach into his pockets and give everything he had. Period. Every single French Frank and coin he had. The person said God Bless You in french. Speaking french my husband said God Bless you in return. I had never seen him give everything he had at once to one person before. Why did he chose that one person in particular? I felt like I had intruded somehow. It seemed like a private moment to me. I cast my eyes downward. When I looked down, I saw her feet. Not her shoes or her socks, her feet. They were purple and swollen. She was begging with nothing on her feet.

When we got into the comfortable van and turned on the heat. The boys said nothing. Not a word. None of us said a word. We sat and started to thaw out and warm up. I don't remember many shops that day. I don't really remember too much except my two stories of beggars.

Maybe we were meant to go to that market? Without saying a word, our children learned to give to the poor and hungry. No doubt about it. No questions asked. They learned what grace is. They learned how to treat our fellow man.

In one remarkable day, remarkable moment really, our family was in the middle of God's grace.

Dieu vous benissent

Sharing the Grace of Christmas

This morning while reading a couple of favorite blogs, one in particular caught my eye. Her blog is always uplifting and she seems to have a unique way of sharing grace & kindness with her readers.

She was discussing sending Christmas cards. Okay, this year I admit I did grumble a bit about the total of them. Gosh, how on earth can we cut this list down? Do we really need to include a picture? Do we really need to include a letter? Why on earth did I think I needed to make the return address labels?

While the boys were growing up, we made an evening out of it. I promised cookies and hot cocoa when they had finished signing their names to each card as it went by them, assembly line fashion. Much to my chagrin, they would go as fast as they could, to yes, get to the cookies and cocoa. sigh. One year, one of the boys, who will not be named, had a bee in his bonnet and even spelled his name wrong on all 125+ cards! In green ink of course. Oh, those young teenage years, good times, good times!

Then I read Cindy's blog this morning. She was remembering her mother who passed away a couple years ago & just how much she missed her. What she said about her mother and Christmas cards got my attention.................

My Mom was always looking for ways to share Christ especially during the holidays. One way that she felt we could do this was by sending Christmas cards with the true meaning of Christmas on them. Mom was adamant about this with us!

Sort of changes one's perspective on sending really lovely and meaningful cards? In the blink of an eye, her comments changed my heart. Oh don't get me wrong, we have always sent out cards, hundreds of them each year. It is just in the last few years, I have heard myself grumble and complain a bit more and more. Somehow, it has become a burden.

After reading just a few lines in her blog, she gave me a reason. A mission if you will. Through sending out cards and sharing a bit of our family with others, it gives us a chance to share what we think is important in our lives. How we choose to live. Who we choose to follow.

So this year, the day after Christmas when I search for some pretty cards 1/2 off (hey, I may be a Methodist, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy a good sale) I will be looking with fresh eyes. Thinking of the perfect message we want to send to others.

Instead of grumbling about how many people don't say Merry Christmas back to me, I am going to count the near 100 people we shared cards with and wrote Merry Christmas to each one of them and their families.

Did you feel it? The earth just shifted slightly. I just changed my attitude ever so little. Yet, a huge weight has been lifted. I feel joyful and happy that we shared so many cards. I guess I needed to hear the reason we follow that particular tradition each year.

Merry CHRISTmas my friends, Merry CHRISTmas.

gift idea

If I was 10 years old, this book would be on my Wish List.

Also, Spirograph with extra pens and paper.

Also, thread to braid friendship bracelets.

Big girls ask for things like Garden sheers and books and
warm blankets, and anything to do with popcorn ....stuff like that....

This big girl also wants some red and white string.

Just think of the possibilities?

Makes me smile.

Tuesday Treats (Naughty trumps Nice)

Many moons ago, we had two little boys living with us. The month of December was intense to say the least. In between all of the home schooling and present wrapping and baking and decorating and pageants and costumes and dress clothes ......on and on....... Mr. Right said, "One night you should go out and get your hair done or something girlie?"

You know, maybe a break would be good? So I came up with this plan. Because of course I did not want them sitting in front of the television watching a war movie with killings and blood and guts and gore...... it was Christmas time for heaven sake.

I made sugar cookies. All shapes. I let them cool and put them all in a pan. Then I made several little pots of colored icing. I then lined up all sorts of sprinkles and jimmies and chocolate chips. I put out toothpicks and knives. I thought it would be fun for them to create & help decorate some cookies. I don't always have to be in the middle telling them how to do things so they look just right. It was time I gave up a little control. They were big boys. They could certainly handle decorating a few dozen cookies? It would keep them busy while I was gone getting beautiful and they would have a fun Christmas memory.

Wait they are boys....................

I came home (I am sure looking fabulous), they were OVERLY eager for me to see what they had made. Oh my. Oh my. I said OH MY, didn't I?

Yep, there they were all decorated and super colorful and cheerful and happy.
Let's see.....Doves pooping chocolate chips, Angels with their heads cut off and blood oozing from their necks. Somehow, they took a cookie and cut it up and then frosted it to look like a gun? Oh my, the ornaments were now grenades with a fuse coming out of the top. Beautiful stars were now deadly ninja stars. What once was a lovely Christmas tree was now turned upside down and cut into a spear of death.
There was one just frosted red. I asked (yes I know big mistake) what that was? Of course a pool of blood! Silly me. I should have known.

My inner Martha Stewart was in total SHOCK. However, I was so tired from the season, that I just gave in and was happy they had fun and the darn cookies were decorated. If you closed your eyes and ate the angel with no head and blood oozing out, it still tasted pretty darn good.

You can imagine my mother and sisters and some friends being totally upset and outraged. Why, I never!

Something slipped in that year. It became a valued tradition. We have included friends and neighbors and family. When the daughter in laws came into the fold for the first time in the cookie decorating department, boy were they shocked. I remember the first time one decorated a tree as a first attempt. A tree. Yes, green with little sprinkle ornaments. Everyone said, oh that is nice. Then they started showing theirs. American flags and the state of Oklahoma and hatchets and zombies and whales and oh sure, bombs and grenades of course. The girls got the idea. Then it was game on. A few years later, same girl, she made a globe out of an ornament and some frosting. Ended up being voted best of the year! Then she won again the following year by turning a dove upside down and frosted it into a Polar Bear!

Up until two or three years ago, I just baked and gathered all the supplies. I was tired and just liked watching it unfold. I was also the clean up crew. Now, it is just as much fun to join in.

Instead of the overwhelming stress of the season it has become a favorite family tradition that everyone enjoys and looks forward to. The first year we received pictures from California after a cookie decorating session.............well our hearts swelled with pride! The tradition lived on. Those pooping doves and headless angels brought a tear to my eye.

So this year instead of stressing over the perfect star or gingerbread man decorated correctly. Invite some family and friends to do the decorating for you. You never know, you might just have fun and start a time honored tradition of your own?

Happy Baking! Here is my all time favorite recipe for sugar cookies. Works every time and I can honestly say, I have made this particular recipe over 100 times.

Roll Out Cookie Recipe

1 cup butter
1 cup sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 teaspoons baking powder
3 cups of flour (one cup at a time)

Preheat oven 400*. Cream butter & sugar. Beat in egg & vanilla. Add baking powder & flour. Dough will be stiff. Do NOT chill. Roll out ¼” thick. Cut into shapes. Bake cookies on Silpat lined cookie sheets. Bake 6-7 minutes. Sprinkle with sugar prior to baking or frost after. This works so well every single time.

So wrong

I like buying toys for Toys for Tots. I like picking out the perfect (well to me)
Barbie. Last year was the beautiful and dreamy Mermaid Barbie. This year I chose wisely, the Ballerina Barbie. A vision in pink. Just lovely.

Play dough. Love it. Bought it, several, well millions of times. Our boys loved it. Actually, I am quite sure that if I pulled out a cookie sheet for each of them and plopped down the little containers of magic and let them go at it....even 29 and 26 year old "boys" we be entertained for a hour or so. LOVE that.

This year I bought something called the "Fun Factory". You can force the play dough through the different shapes and form long strands of happiness! There was even a fancy bake set. Bake and create set. You get to make cupcakes with frosting and sprinkles! So much joy in one box.

Then....I saw it. We were walking swiftly through a local big box store. Urgh, the people, the mess, the grumpy attitudes...... I was looking and saw a play dough display. They "had" me. I had to stop and see if I needed something more for my donation.

WHAT is THAT??????????????????????????? WRONG, WRONG, WRONG on SO MANY levels! Just plain wrong and stupid and disturbing and sad. NO child wants to open the DREADED ............................DRILL & FILL "fun"???? play dough set on Christmas morning. Who thought that was a "good" idea? BOO HISS.

I want to go on and on and on.............BOO HISS again. Mean spirited. AWFUL. NOT RIGHT. NOT FUN. NOT HAPPY.

The Grinch lives! BOO HISS

Life happens, even in December

Our beautiful tree is up on the deck. Fresh and decorated with white twinkle lights.

Saturday, Mr. Right, helped friends, cut and bring home a fresh, heavenly smelling lovely tree. All set up and ready to go.

Saturday afternoon, up went our tree in our home. Oh it made our home smell wonderful. It was spectacular. Oh, did I just say "was"? um, why yes Virginia, I did indeed say "was".

It seemed to loose quite a few needles. Okay, let's let it sit and rest and get used to being indoors. Let's go out to Sushi. yum. Sushi, now that is fun and delicious.

Home. Tree still smelling wonderful. Looking great. Um, there seems to be more needles? Okay, let's leave it alone and it can sit over night.

Good morning. LOVE the smell of evergreen! Hurry around here on Sunday morning. Oops no time now, going out for a wonderful birthday lunch.

Home again. Okay, time to tackle the tree. Oh dear me. So many needles on the carpet, I felt a bit sorry for my LOVED Dyson vacuum cleaner. I SCOOPED up, yes, scooped up with my hands several piles of needles before vacuuming.

A fireman's worst nightmare was in the corner of our family room.

Grown up decision. Take it out.

Mr. Right carried it back outside and THREW it on the other side of the deck. It is still laying there actually in all it's Christmas wonderment.

Enter stage left, old standby, 20+ something year old artificial tree. It is up, and straight and covered in white lights and has an angel plopped on top with a tree skirt lovingly wrapped around her base. Sure she lost a couple of needles, who wouldn't be a bit on the older side? She's a good little tree.

Tonight over 450 decorations get put on her. So many in fact. You can hardly see the green of the tree.

That my friends is some of the joy of Christmas all wrapped up in one blog.

"The best way to spread cheer,
is singing loud for all to hear."
Buddy the elf

Pearl Harbor

When I was 18 years old I visited the monument at Pearl Harbor. It was eerie and sent a chill through my bones. The loud speaker was obnoxious and frightening. It played over and over, "THIS IS NOT A DRILL" "THIS IS A DAY THAT WILL LIVE....."
Being there scared me. I didn't like being on the monument. I didn't like the boat ride over. I didn't like standing next to the other tourist. I didn't like the many Japanese tourists. I didn't like how I felt. I was nervous and to tell you the truth, while standing gazing at the wall of engraved names of those who lost their lives and were buried right under my feet, I felt like I needed air. I wanted to get on the boat and go back to the island. My brain was swirling and I wanted to breathe.

About 10 years ago, we traveled to Pearl Harbor again. I can honestly report that twenty years in between did me the world of good. I could take it in, all in. Yes, that blasted loud speaker is still as loud and heart thumping as ever. Yes, there are still tourist from all walks of life. Yes, I still got goosebumps. Yes, the wall of names is exactly the same. Yes, it is still a cemetery that you are visiting and walking on top of.

This time, I had changed. I had a grateful heart. I was honored to be allowed to visit there. I had learned more of the history. I had read the stories. It was an honor to pay my respects to those who had lost their lives. It was a privilege as an American citizen to spend some time there thinking and breathing.

I like who I have become. I am a much more humble and kindhearted person. I like that I can understand fully how to be grateful. I also understand how important it is to pass on the lessons that I learned.

Follow after things which make for Peace.

Treats on Tuesday

Today's treats are Almond Roca Cookies

These were one of my favorites growing up and amazingly still are.

1 cup soft unsalted butter
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
1 egg yolk
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups cake flour
1 cup lightly toasted sliced almonds
10 ounces milk chocolate candy bar

Cream butter and sugars. Add yolk & vanilla. Add flour. Mix well and spread thinly on a cookie sheet with sides. Bake at 350* for 15-20 minutes. Melt chocolate over hot water. Spread on warm cookies as soon as they are out of the oven. Sprinkle with almonds. Cut while still warm but chocolate is set.

Most of the time I forget to cut them when they are still warm and the chocolate is set. Then I just break them up into about 1" pieces that are misshappen. They look very nice in a tin. So good and perfect for the holidays. enjoy

December 6th

While living in Germany, St. Nicholas came to visit the Wilson children. All you have to do is put your shoes outside your front door on December 5th and then when you wake up December 6th, you go look and see.

If you have been a bad little one all year, your shoes are filled with rocks and twigs. urgh. If you have been pretty good, your shoes will be filled with candy, candy, candy and fruit. German candy of course! A chocolate shaped insect or lady bug was sure to be found tucked inside.

Funny, I remember, our boys asked if someone would steal their shoes. One year they used their sneakers. My goodness they spent quite a bit of time cleaning those shoes. Then one year they decided together that maybe their church shoes would present a better image. The thinking here was maybe more candy or on the other hand maybe someone would steal their good shoes and then they wouldn't have to go to church anymore. No matter what they were thinking, the chosen shoes sure got spiffy.

St. Nicholas did indeed remember the Wilson boys. Silly and fun tradition. Interesting how in the middle of the busy season, St. Nicholas found the time to go around to all the houses the first part of the month and check in on the kids.
He was not a jolly old soul. He was tall and stern and was serious. He was seriously checking to make sure everyone was minding their manners.

Apparently, good manners and being nice matter!

pots and pans

Several years ago, we had two little boys living here. It was the middle of the Christmas season. Sure the songs have you believe there is no place like home for the holidays. Everyone is happy and cheerful and romping in the snow.......

From the mom point of view: Christmas church clothes need to be bought and put together, church program practices, Christmas family picture needs to be taken and copied and somehow put into 100 Christmas cards, Cards addressed and a letter typed and included. The list goes onto baking and making special treats while still putting dinner on the table every night. You have to somehow "magically" stretch the budget to include gifts, lots of gifts and postage and hide almost everything. Your home has to be decorated and you must calmly suggest decorating cookies one evening after dinner or putting together a gingerbread house or two. How fun to go out and play in the snow? Mom will "magically" get the snow gear ready and then happily wash and dry everything and get the kids warmed up.......all while Home schooling..... and the list goes on and on.......all with a smile on your face.

I somehow had a mental breakdown, right smack in the middle of the month. Instead of my usual staying up well past midnight wrapping and sewing and baking..... I checked out a Nora Roberts romance novel and each night when the boys went to bed, I just put my feet up and read my book. Looking back, I think everything went well. The stockings were filled and the presents were wrapped under the tree and everyone made it to programs and looked okay. I don't remember any huge mess ups. I needed a break and I found it through a romance book.

Yesterday things seem to be piling up around here. The house needs some decorations. I have gifts to finish sewing & gifts to mail. We are checking and checking again our many lists. Trying to keep things pretty even between kids. We are donating and giving to all sorts of causes. The family photograph is taken, printed and 80 copies are made. I have the cards, now to put it all together.

For some strange and goofy reason, we waited in line to get into our mall. We found a parking place and went in. Yikes, lots of shoppers. All thinking of others. NOT US. NOPE. We were thinking of ourselves. We had a coupon and went to Macy's to use it. Yep, right in the middle of shopping for others season, we bought something for ourselves. We bought the 1.5 quart All Clad Sauce pan & the 4.5 quart stock pot. Oh yeah. No, it is not a gift. We actually brought it home and used it to prepare our Sunday night dinner. Yes, you heard me right, smack dab in the middle of the season of giving to others and budgeting for gifts and more gifts. We took some cash and bought ourselves two new wonderful pans.

It felt silly and goofy and wonderful. It was the wrong timing and we should be thinking of others. We cracked. We caved. We brought home two beauties. Oh how they shine! Hey, maybe that is the "sparkle" of the season? Maybe I can use them to make some homemade food gift for others?

As we were leaving the household goods department the sales gal said, "Have an All Clad Christmas"! It was a weird and strange thing to say. We had never heard that before.

How it made us laugh and smile. It sort of broke our frustration with the season.

Grace does indeed come in many forms.

Have an All Clad Christmas everyone!

passion

Usually when we host a dinner party, small or large, I print a question or two on the back of the place cards or put the note under the bread plate. That way during the meal, when the time is right, I ask a question and everyone gets a turn answering then they ask theirs. Ta da, instant conversation and sharing. Works every time.

Last dinner party one question raised, what do you want for Christmas? Another
question was name one thing on your "bucket list".

I always have one question in the back of my mind that I want to ask, but wisely choose not to bring it up. The question is: No matter your age today, no matter your bills and life and circumstances, What job would you like to be doing?

Pilot. No question about it. I would be a pilot. When I was a very young adult deciding my path, it was still frowned upon if a girl didn't choose nurse, teacher, window designer, doctor, lawyer..... you get the idea. My parents had no intention of supporting an idea like a girl being a pilot.

While in High School I was sweet on a particular tall (loved that) guy. Sure he could dazzle me with his smile and his singing talent and sweet talk, however, I was over the moon fascinated that he was interested in airplanes. He had models in his bedroom. Yep, I got to in there and was thrilled to see the HUMONGOUS picture of the nose view of an airplane. He was interested in getting his pilots license. No, I never talked to him about my secret passion. (Good girls would never want to talk about being a pilot.) Oh, I wanted to talk and talk and talk about it. I was pretty sure I was in "love" with him. Now, I look back and I KNOW I was in LOVE with his passion for flight. Years later, yes, I am still in LOVE with his passion for powerful guns his Harley Davidson bike and fast car. Actually, I am beginning to realize that I am genuinely happy for someone who has passion about anything. That might be "the" answer. I will be forever grateful for his interest in flight, he doesn't know it, however he encouraged my dream. That's it, one word, passion.

On my birthday a few years back, Mr. Right gave me a gift, my first flying lesson. It was a rush! It was a big fantastic feeling in my stomach. I could not stop smiling. Heck, I am smiling now as I type! The feeling was so great and happy and lived up to everything I had dreamed about. I have a photograph taped up inside one of my kitchen cupboards of me in the airplane. I smile every single time I look at it. I hope I don't loose that memory long after I move into the nursing home. I felt powerful and free and happy and giddy all rolled into one. I have my hand raised, if by some weird quirk of the universe happens and we get to come back and do it all over again, I will be a pilot.

While our family was together at Thanksgiving, I did not make question cards for the table. There is hardly a moment of quiet while we are all gathered around for the meal. The need to "teach" graceful conversation has long past. They are more than capable. The young ones, especially the girls would not understand what I mean when I say "girls were not encouraged to step out of traditional girl choices". Around our family we have a girl who is a banker, and a girl who is a chef. We have one boy who is a business owner and one boy who is a Graphic Desiner. None of them would understand the question "what would you be if you could". They are doing what they want. They are each living their chosen passion.

I have decided to start a savings account, a little each month. Someday, I am going to leave behind a scholarship for a girl who would like to study at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University. I am going to help pay for someones' passion.

My stomach is doing a little happy dance. I love this idea. I am proud of myself for coming up with this.

embrace your dreams with passion.

Hello December

Little Miss Grandgirlie is having her Christmas photograph done tomorrow. Her ingenious mom has wisely chosen two adorable outfits. It is a wise mom who has a back up in case something ...um....happens. Or maybe she will be perfect and be a miniature model and change outfits halfway through the sitting, just because?

The proof I have of going to see Santa each year is in a slim album I put together as the tradition unfolded and each of my sisters was added to the pictures.

It was a huge deal. The months before my mother would decide "the" outfit or "the" coat that would be worn. My grandmother always accompanied my mother and the girls.
She was the coat holder, the enforcer. My mother was the hair fixer, the clothes straightener, the person who always reminded us none to gently about having good posture and behaving like a lady. We were schooled as to a couple of choices as what to ask Santa for. Nothing too expensive (he had a lot of toys to give to all the children) nothing goofy, nothing silly.....a doll would probably be the best thing to ask for.

Fredrick and Nelson, downtown Seattle, Washington. period. For those who know Seattle well, I don't have to go into detail. For those unfamiliar with the Fredrick and Nelson "way". Let me just say a few words, stuffy, proper, decorated elegantly, soft music playing in the background. My mother and grandmother were always a twitter about the decor. Each year something different and stylish. You notice I did not use words like fun or happy or cheerful or child friendly? enough said about that.

Our manners were polished to a high shine the week before. We were to behave. I noticed while looking through the yearly pictures, even when my youngest sister was a baby and was on Santa's lap SCREAMING and CRYING, my other sister and I were smiling sweetly into the camera, with good posture and pleasant attitudes. It was expected.

Yes, we each received a small wrapped candy cane from Santa as we left. We never got to open or even think about eating the candy until we got home. Usually saved for dessert after a proper dinner. "A lady would never eat candy in a store". Just the other day, I saw a gal drinking a latte, eating what appeared to be a scone, walking and shopping all at the same time. I hate to agree with my mother, however on this topic, she was right, it was not a good thing.

As we welcome the month of December, let the traditions unfold with grace and harmony. Why just last night when picking up our photographs for our cards, the sales gal shook my outstretched hand and said simply "Merry Christmas".

Looks like tradition is sneaking back into our lives?

May the season be Merry and Bright. May we all remember to treat each other with kindness and grace.

correction

I typed the wrong date in my post about Bruges.

I meant to type 1993.

Too tired tonight to figure out how to change it.



good night, sweet dreams.

something old

My ancestors on my fathers' side came to America from Bruges, Belgium. First stop was Ellis Island. While passing through the halls and completing the paper work, the family name was changed right then and there to Bridges. A more American sounding name.

While living in Europe, we had the pleasure to travel to Belgium. We toured Brussels, there we ate the local cuisine, Mr. Right learned new driving customs and we saw our very first Michelangelo carving in person. It took my breath away. That particular trip, I was short on breath. The handmade lace was amazing. swoosh, just like that, my breath evaporated.

The year was 1998 and son number one was eleven, son number two was eight years old.

We meandered, learned, dined, and explored the city of Bruges. It was a once in a life time experience. The lace, oh the lace, all hand made and valued. The needlework school demands that you tat and learn the art of lace making for 7 years before you can sell your wares and call yourself a professional lace maker. I went into several shops. Yes, I purchased a couple of pieces.

Mr. Right kept the boys occupied outside. Tell me, what 8 and 11 year old boy would be interested in lace? I went into one shop in particular. The ladies were kind and lovely to me. They listened to my plan with enthusiasm. Carefully and with precision, they lined up upon the counter, several handkerchiefs embellished with hand made lace. I left the shop. I came back in with one boy, the oldest. I said, "see those handkerchiefs? Which one is your favorite?" He pointed. The ladies took that one "out of the line up". I left the shop again. I took out son number one and brought back in son number two. I repeated the process. I said, "see those handkerchiefs? Which one is your favorite? I took son number two out of the shop. I went back inside to pay.

You see, I came up with a plan. I would have the boys each chose their favorite lace handkerchief. I bought the ones they chose. I labeled them with their names. Then carefully wrap them away in my cedar chest. Seven and a half years ago, I gave son number one "his" handkerchief to give to his sweetheart when they became engaged. She carried it when they got married.

Yesterday, I wrapped up the remaining handkerchief and gave it to son number two to give to his sweet girl. They became engaged yesterday. She is now the care taker of her handkerchief. I hope she chooses to carry it on the day they marry.

Life is full of decisions, and when you find you've got one right, it is worth
celebrating!

Introducing the new Mrs. Wilson (to be)

Son number two proposed tonight.

Miss Monica will turn into Mrs. Wilson in 2012!

WOOHOO

We are over the moon happy!!!!!!!!!

Did I mention we are HAPPY?

breathe

"If you are lucky enough to be at the
beach, then you are lucky enough".

My family and I will be taking
a few days holiday at the beach
to renew our spirits.

See you when we return.

pink

Tonight after Thanksgiving dinner, we were served special cupcakes before the traditional Thanksgiving pies, cookies and candy.

The cupcakes had pink filling!

We have more sugar and spice coming our way in the form of a new Grandgirlie!

Adelaide Erin Wilson will be joining us March 30th, 2012!

woohoo

words

I like the word serendipitous. I really like the word bliss. I love the word grace. Last night, while both baking in the kitchen, we were throwing out words that we liked and liked to use and hear.

The flip side of that conversation are words we don't like to hear. I do not care for the words "no problem". I don't care for the word "whatever". Mr. Right does not care for the word "especially". I really, really don't care for the word busy.

For some odd and strange reason, it has become a catch word. One that people feel pride in using. I would like to go on record as saying that I do not care for it, not one little bit. The word busy is not something to be prideful about.

It is used as an excuse. The word "busy" is used to make others feel less. I for one do not want to purposely make others feel less because of my words. It is not lady like nor is it full of grace. The word busy is used to tell the world you can not organized your time and calmly take on the tasks of your life. It screams to the world that you cannot be in the moment and handle each moment and event as they come about. It tells others you have over committed and have not gracefully learned to say no.

The older I get, the more I like learning to live in the moment.

Yesterday, a friend stopped her studying for finals and four papers due, to have a couple of cups of coffee. Right smack in the middle of the day, she had the grace to disengage for a few moments and be in the moment. She needed the rest. I think we all did. Just a couple hours to calm down and regroup and laugh a little. Yes, it was right in the middle of her brain going 100 miles an hour. Thinking back on the time, it made us feel special. She thought enough of us to take a break and add us to her day. I think and hope, it made her feel special that we went over to "make" her rest her brain for a small amount of time, give her time to clear the cobwebs. She never once said, "I am so busy.". Yeah, we all know she has her plate full. College daughter home for the week, finals, husband, son, dog, birds, donating to others, her cupboards are bare and she says she needs to get to the grocery store to restock, an elderly mother needing time, .......I don't have to list it all. It is called life. We are all trying to keep all the balls in the air and juggle and juggle and keep some sort of balance. (There is another word I like "balance").

Today, I will give today importance. You just know I want to go on and on and on about son number two and daughter in law to be coming for a visit tomorrow. It has been way too long since we have seen them. I want to gush on and on about our upcoming holiday at the beach.

However, for today, Mr. Right and I will find out if we are going to be grandparents to another grandgirlie or a little grandson made out of snips and snails! We will relish today. Hey, there is another word I love "relish". Our niece has a call back job interview today. This could be a remarkable day for her. We will wait for her phone call or e-mail to tell us the results.

I am choosing to spend my time and thoughts in today. Oh sure we have wonderful things on calendar, even for the coming week. Anticipation is a great feeling. The planning and excitement of things to come. Thanksgiving dinner, the trip to the ocean, swimming in the warm pool, board games to be played, snacks to be enjoyed.
Two family birthdays, yes the list goes on and they will come one at a time.

We are only given as much as we can handle. I like to remind myself of that.

I could list all of the "things" that I have to do. I could go on and on telling the world that I am busy. Urgh. Or I could dig a little deeper and find the grace and kindness to give power to each moment of each day. Relish it. Enjoy & embrace it. When we look to the next event or commitment we steal some of the joy of what is happening at that exact moment. I want to give importance and joy and my total care and concern to what is upon me. I don't want it to hurry up and be over. (well, except for dental appointments). I want to be in the moment and "live" in the moment.

It does not make me more important or worthy if I am busy. It robs me of being in the here and now. Yes, it steals the joy from what we are experienceing. I like learning to take each day as it comes. Maybe by learning to enjoy and relish the good days as they come about, it will help teach me how to calmly and with purpose walk through the bad days & events.

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.

I want my days spent in grace.

first snow of the season

If we were still home schooling, today, we would read and
learn the poem "When the Frost is on the Punkin"
by James Whitcomb Riley.

Last night we got our first dusting of snow. Some of the white flakes landed on my pumpkins.

Since school is not in session, think I will just send a gentle reminder to son and daughter number 2, to toss in a warm coat into their suitcases. Four days and a wake up until we get to enjoy their visit. YIPPY!

Cheddar Spread.....Spread some Cheer!

The state was Oklahoma, the people are FRIENDLY. I learn everything you ever wanted to know about hospitality from the good folks in Oklahoma. We lived there about four years. We were invited, invited and invited all over again. People gathered for any reason, however "the" season to gather was the holidays.

Okay, our calendar dates were filled a month or two before. We even were lucky enough to be included in a couple parties on one day. I learned the first year, I had to get creative and inventive for hostess gifts, those babies could get expensive.

So, round about August, I started saving jars. Yep, pickle jars and mustard jars and jelly jars...every time someone emptied a jar, I yelled "SAVE THE JAR"!. I cleaned them and removed the labels and stored them in a big box.

I started buying boxes of fancy schmancy crackers sometime in early November. Oh yes, I used coupons and watched for sales.

Now, hello late November & here we go..............this is the remarkable goodness that I filled all those little jars and big jars and medium jars with:

Cheddar Spread

2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese
1 - 8 ounce package of cream cheese, softened
1/3 cup sherry
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon white pepper
1/2 teaspoon dry mustard

In a large bowl, combine all the ingredients until well blended using your mixer. Transfer to all your jars. Seal them with their air tight lids. Keep in the refrigerator.

Each time we were headed out to a party or gathering we took a box of crackers, grabbed a jar of Cheddar Spread. Each year I chose a different ribbon. Some years it was plaid, some years a rich, deep barn velvet red. Then I clipped a piece of evergreen to put under the bow on the jar. I had already made up a dozen or so tags, hand stamped. We were in business.

I have shared the recipe over & over & over. It makes for a really thoughtful gift for a neighbor or a quilt friend. It is just lovely to have a dozen or so ready to go in your refrigerator. You will not be sorry you planned ahead. Hopefully you saved one out to use just for you & your family.

Buckle up kids, the holiday season is upon us and everything is going to be just fine and dandy.

Spread some Cheer, give Cheddar Spread this year!

That which cometh from the heart will go to the heart.

The latest Before and After

Oh, we love being grandparents. Yep, we really, really do. Who knew it should be on every single person's "bucket list"?

The relationship is pure joy and happiness. All the time, you think about what you can do to make it even more fun and happy. You try and come up with silly things that will make that grand baby in your life squeal with delight.

I do some of my best and creative thinking in the shower. This idea came to me and instead of lingering under the hot steamy water, I finished lickity split and jumped out, toweled off and had to write everything down. This was the grandparent idea of the century.

We never discussed it, however neither of us, by unspoken agreement, wanted to be the kind of grandparents that had a white brocade upholstered sofa, chair and ottoman. We didn't want over the top expensive crystal figurines that were set about. We did not want white walls and glass topped tables nor did we want crystal lamps.

Oh sure, several wicker picnic baskets we have scattered around our home are no longer filled with candles, papers, magazines, seasonal items. They are now, every one of them, filled with blocks and plastic lizards and cars and rattles and plastic spoons and even a big goofy plastic crab. We have bristle blocks hiding in one basket under the end table.

The time has come to talk about the coffee table. Yep, Mr. Right built it and I love it. I love the two drawers. I love the display drawer with the glass top. I loved everything about it, that is until a certain Grand girlie came to visit.
We don't want to have to say no, no, no, over and over and over. She likes to make noise by slamming her little hands on the glass. We can't be "those" grandparents.

Idea.

Mr. Right went to Lowe's and bought some plywood, paint and a brush. We painted and waited and painted and waited, for three days...........oh the waiting. This morning he took out the glass table top and replaced it with a brand new chalk board!!!! A certain little miss sweet cheeks is coming over to play & have lunch.

Oh and if she gets bored with chalking............we remove the chalk board and underneath instead of fabric and silk leaves and grown up things............. there is a drawer full of uncooked rice with cars and trucks and little measuring cups to pour and pour and fill and dump for lots more fun.

This home is grand baby friendly. We are ready and happy to be so.

Bring 'em on...........we are hoping for oodles and oodles of grand babies. For now we will settle for one sweet Grand girlie.

Gotta go........she is headed this way.

Let the chalking begin!

remember

Today, Mr. Right went off to work with a bright red poppy pinned to his lapel. Every year, he remembers. When the boys lived at home, they wore a red poppy on their shirts. The Sunday close to Remembrance day, they wore the poppy to church.

While living in Europe we visited a different cemetery near this date. We were in Saint Avold one year and payed our respects to General George Patton another year. We remembered. We were, each year trying to teach the boys to respect & remember.

We have a lovely painting of a field of poppies painted by a Texas artist. It hangs proudly in our home. It gently reminds us to remember.

My grandmother (mother's side) could never remember my father's birthday. She always thought it was November 11. Actually, it was November 12th. Maybe she chose not to remember?

My husband sent out his Veteran's Day cards again this year and has received several. Sometimes for tough old Army guys it is easier to send a card, let Hallmark say the words and add a meaningful quote.

We had the boys memorize "the" poem. Yes, "Flanders Fields" was printed, chalked on the sidewalk, read and repeated & repeated & repeated. They were very proud to recite it to their Dad when they finally had it down pat.

Yesterday, I drove to a nearby town & made a visit to the Old Soldier's Home. Every active duty soldier has 50 cents taken out of his or her paycheck every month. That money goes to take care of their own. Boy would they be proud of how their money is spent. The grounds are well groomed. The buildings are in tip top shape. The people, oh the people that work there are polite, very friendly and you get the sense that they are extremely proud of where and for whom they work. The order in which the place is run is of course, military precision. It seems to run like a well oiled and cared for machine. While on a mini tour of the physical therapy unit, every single thing was spotless, organized & ready for use. The residents as well as the workers welcomed me and were very proud to show off their unit. I certainly felt honored to be brought into their fold, their home. There were residents working at all the physical therapy machines. As I approached some working at rebuilding their body parts, the men of course started to stand to offer their respect and good manners to me. It was very humbling. The word humble is overused. I honestly felt humble. As I prepared to leave the grounds, I saw a couple of trucks and workers hauling out flag after flag after flag. They were preparing to put up all the flags along the drive for today, Veteran's Day. They were working hard, smiling, happy, very polite and oh yes, you could tell the moment you saw them, they were proud of their work. They had been called to do that particular job at the particular moment in time.

While I have come to appreciate & understand the commercialism of advertising a "free" lunch at Applebee's or a free donut for every Veteran at Krispy Kreme...
it is certainly a million times better than just ignoring our service members...
It is not how our family will remember.

You won't find Mr. Right nor his brother nor any of the men he served with having a free lunch at a pizza place or taking a free slice of pie from a Shari's. You will find them doing what they always do. They will be going about their business of being good husbands, good fathers, good grandfathers and good uncles. They will quietly go about their day. Oh don't for one moment think that their minds are not swirling with all those who have gone before them. They will never, ever forget. It is who they are. They have passed on to their children the message of honor and respect.

"We shall not sleep, though poppies grow in Flanders fields."

Bliss on Wednesday

For a few years now, around the time when I switch from ice cold blended drinks to the warm drinks you can wrap your hands around, I somehow find my way to a nearby (or on a trip for that matter) Starbucks. Sure, who doesn't enjoy the new Salted Caramel latte?

Focus.

I am on a mission. Finding Bliss. Pure Bliss.
Okay in the food genre, pure bliss.

I really only want one, maybe two a season. They are that good.

I decided to bake a batch myself and maybe share with a friend or two. I have researched (maybe sampled) a couple of different recipes.

This particular recipe hits the nail on the head. So worth your time and effort and money for ingredients. This recipe also makes an amount that you can handle. There are several out there that will have you giving away Bliss Bars to every person you run into. This amount is much more reasonable.

Here is the recipe and Here's to finding your own "Bliss" this season. yum.


Cake
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) butter, softened
1 1/4 cups packed light brown sugar
3 eggs
2 tablespoons minced crystallized ginger
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
3/4 cup chopped sweetened dried cranberries
4 ounces white chocolate, cut into chunks

Frosting
4-ounces cream cheese, softened
3 cups powdered sugar
4 teaspoons lemon juice
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/4 cup chopped sweetened dried cranberries

Drizzled Icing
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1 tablespoon milk
2 teaspoons vegetable shortening


1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

2. Make cake by beating the butter and brown sugar together with an electric mixer until smooth. Add the eggs, ginger, vanilla, and salt and beat well. Gradually mix in the flour and baking powder until smooth. Mix the chopped dried cranberries and white chocolate chunks into the batter by hand. Pour the batter into a buttered 9 x 13-inch baking pan. Use a spatula to spread the batter evenly across the pan. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the cake is lightly browned on top. Allow the cake to cool.

3. Make the frosting by combining the softened cream cheese, powdered sugar, lemon juice, and vanilla in a medium bowl with an electric mixer until smooth. When the cake has cooled, use a spatula to spread the frosting over the top of the cake.

4. Sprinkle 1/4 cup of chopped dried cranberries over the frosting on the cake.

5. Make the drizzled icing by whisking together powdered sugar, milk, and shortening. Drizzle this icing over the cranberries in a sweeping motion with a squirt bottle or fill a small plastic storage bag with the icing and cut off the tip of one corner.

6. Cover the cake and let it chill out in the fridge for a couple hours, then slice the cake lengthwise (the long way) through the middle. Slice the cake across the width three times, making a total of eight rectangular slices. Slice each of those rectangles diagonally creating 16 triangular slices.

Makes 16 bars.

Hands full

OOps. I know, I know I promised to share a recipe on Tuesdays.

Grandgirlie visits trump blogging. It is just the law of the land.

I will get to the recipe quick as a bunny today.

Here is the perfect reason I didn't follow through with the recipe yesterday.

baby it's cold outside

Just home from a spin around the neighborhood with Mr. Right.

Since coming home in August with a new knee, lots of things have changed for the better. Only a couple things have changed for the slightly less better.

cold. The titanium in my knee seems to conduct cold and with the position into the bone, sends a chill down and up my leg. So much so, that I get the shivers and have to turn the heat on high.

With the heat on high, the poor driver is in a t-shirt and over heated. He sticks his head out the window every 15 minutes or so.

Solution. It came in the mail today.

Gorgeous Red Plaid, electric blanket for use in the car. It works PERFECTLY. It kept my leg and the rest of me warm and toasty. Oh my goodness. Where has this been all my life? I really, really love it.

Have I mentioned lately, that I am one lucky girl?

tips in life

Since I have lasagna cooking in the slower cooker for dinner and the washer and dryer are doing their things, thought I would sit down and write for a moment.

Several years ago, we had just finished dinner at an amazing bistro in North Vancouver, BC. It was the most wonderful dinner we had enjoyed at a restaurant up to that point. The service was the most gracious we had ever received. So when the bill came, it was not really a shock to see Mr. Right had decided to include a tip that was just shy of the amount of the total bill. We were that pleased. It was a pleasure to have gotten the chance to eat at such a fine establishment.

Saturday night has somehow become Sushi night out for us lately. We found a great (new to us) restaurant that is not far from our home. It makes indulging a little bit easier & convenient. The owners and service workers are kind & considerate. They are friendly and welcoming. The food is remarkable and the Sushi chef is top notch. You already know what I am going to type next, Mr. Right over tips. Yep, every single time, no matter the total, no matter how many people we dine with, he over tips. Yes, the service Saturday night was once again, flawless. When the owner came over with a newly created Sushi dish, she offered it to us and asked us to give it a try. It was a pleasure to try something we may not have ever ordered. It was delightful and a bit spicy and interesting and delicious. It was very generous of her to serve us something they are adding to the menu. As always, we ended the meal with generously over tipping.

Who on earth is willing to pay $4.88 for a blended latte? That is madness. That is crazy. Okay, so I am talking about me. Yep, every once in a while I am more than willing to shell out a few paper dollars to buy a coffee treat. Nope, I am not willing to put money in a tip jar for coffee. Yep, I know it sounds weird and odd, now that you know I/we tip for fine service. No, I don't tip the dentist. Yes, I take him some homemade bread every once in a while. No, I don't tip the mail lady. Yes, I bake homemade cookies or treats for her several times a year. For some reason, I just don't have the urge to tip for a $4.88 cup of coffee that took the person 2 minutes or less to prepare. Now, don't get me wrong, once in a while when I have come into unexpected money (found $7.00 once), I tipped the Barista the whole 7 dollars. No, I am not a scrooge. I just can't wrap my head around seeing the tip jar front and center and being served a coffee with an attitude. It does not make me want to fill the jar.

While living in Europe, it was somewhat awkward getting used to not tipping after a lovely meal. It is included in the cost of your food. Several times we have eaten at the Culinary School in Seattle where our daughter in law teaches. You pay for your meal, however NO tipping. They are learning and earning a grade and credit to prepare and serve the fine meal. It feels unusual and thus we are jumpy about not leaving a tip. However, a really lovely thing happens, each time we have made the time to thank them sincerely and look them in the eye and shake their hands. We choose a portion of the meal or an item that was exceptionally good and mention that. We bring on our very best manners and offer our gracious thanks for a service well done.

The whole idea of not tipping forces us to be very sincere & to be outwardly thankful. When buying a big, fat, luscious bouquet of flowers at Pike Place Market. You pay a price. Usually $10 or $15 dollars. Tax is included. The vendor has brought them to the market, spent their time and talent to arrange the bouquet and then sells it to you. Every single time we pay, we also reach across their bounty to shake their hand and look them in the eye and say a grateful and sincere, Thank You.

I was caught off guard this morning. I had my lasagna going and chores were under way. The door bell rang. It was a neighbor just stopping by to share a extremely large box of just picked apples. Oh my. After he said they were for us, my first words were THANK YOU for sharing. I did not once think about tipping him. Once I closed the door and gazed at the huge box of goodness, I did think, oh, I should make a really great thank you card with apples on it.

Sometimes being sincere and grateful are enough of a tip.

"Grace isn't a little prayer you chant before receiving a meal.
It is a way to live."

Three months ago today, I received a new knee. Yep, only a short 90 days ago. After recovering a couple weeks, I went back for a check up. Things looked good. I gave my surgeon a heartfelt and grateful thank you note. Mr. Right & I both shook his hand and looked into his eyes and said we were grateful and appreciative.

I was thinking of him today. He is in Afghanistan serving our country. He is doing his real job. He is a soldier and his job is to defend our country to the best of his ability. He is there to repair our hurt soldiers. He is one of the good ones. You and I WANT him on our side. He is smart and is well trained. He is a man of honor.

If I had an appointment with him, I would tell him what I did today. I did 22 minutes of yoga this morning. I made the bed and took a shower. I did laundry and made breakfast. I did the dishes. I vacuumed the entire house and storage room. I worked outside for 2 1/2 hours doing heavy yard work. I pulled weeds and picked up branches and moved old pumpkins. I blew off our circle driveway. I swept and pulled more weeds. I shoveled up pine needles and filled our yard waste container. I came in and made my lunch. I cleaned the laundry room. I have a batch of dog treats made and baking in the oven. It is only two in the afternoon. There is still plenty of time to create and make and accomplish a whole lot more today.

My knee is working well. I am walking the dog daily about 1 3/4 miles. I am doing my exercises and working on balance and stretching.

My surgeon would be proud of me. Heck, I am proud of me. In 90 days, I have turned a bad situation into a positive one. Okay, so I am still managing a bit of pain now and then. I am having to learn all over again about getting cold and trying to stay warm.

Today, I am grateful for modern medicine. I am grateful for tytainium knee replacements. I am grateful for a skilled surgeon. I am grateful that I live in a free country, where as a woman I can walk my dog every day by myself.

I have much to be thankful for.

Have I mentioned that I am a very lucky girl?

I am choosing to be grateful and celebrate today!

bliss

Sunday's Child is sharing Treats on Tuesday. A recipe with zero guilt.

Lucky me. I happen to have a wonderful wrought iron chandelier hanging over my bathtub. Mr. Right hung it up with a pulley system. So once in the bath, you can lower it down to a level just above the bubbles. When lit, it casts the most becoming light & shadows all around the room. It is not electric. It is to use with candles. So each of the little pedestals holds a candle. Imagine this, you put on some wonderful relaxing piano music and you glide into a bath tub filling with warm water. Under the water, you pour in some of your home made bubble bath. Why homemade you ask? Because in this recipe you don't add any chemicals which will soak into your body through your skin. This is a no guilt recipe. No chemicals or additives, nothing harsh, just pure goodness.

I found some bottles at the local brewing shop. For a few Christmas gifts, I am making homemade bubble bath for some girls in my life. Now comes the creative part of adding a bit of girlie touches to the bottle. The label you ask? Of course, I am designed it myself. She happens to be a lovely curvaceous mermaid with lots and lots of curly hair.

Sweet Dreams Bliss Bubble Bath

This bubble bath has lavender and patchouli oils to relax you before bedtime. Use soft music and lighted candles in your bathroom for a soothing effect.

6 drops of lavender oil
3 drops of patchouli oil
1 quart of distilled water
4 ounces liquid castille soap
4 ounces liquid glycerin

Directions: mix the water, soap and glycerin together and stir.
Now add your essential oils to the mixture. Add to your bath and enjoy every single moment of bliss. When your fingers begin to look like prunes or you have run out of hot water, which ever comes first.....

Towel off, wrap up in a fluffy white robe and go find some sumptuous lingerie to slip into. Sleep perchance to dream.


Next week, I will share a recipe for Starbucks Cranberry Bliss Bars.(excuse me, my mouth was watering a bit while I typed that) Between now and next Tuesday you will need to find a friend to share with. The recipe makes too many to eat yourself. The season is upon us. The time has come to start sharing some goodies and kindness.

sparkle

Tangerine toenail polish, just for today.

Sparkles and black flip flops just sort of work.

Makes me happy.

The end.

for me?

Quick, right now stop and describe your spouse. The clothes he is wearing, the shoes. Baseball hat or not, wearing a watch or not? Sure we would like to think that we would notice if they had a new scar across their face or a different hair style. If the police came to my home with a police sketch artist and said describe what your husband was wearing when you picked him up from the airport on Friday night. tick, tock, tick, tock...........Jeopardy music is playing...dum...dee...dum.......tick, tock.

OKAY. I can't.

You want to know why?

I got the call. You know the one, sitting in the cell phone lot at the airport, waiting for the call. My phone rang, it was him. woohoo, I got the call. I started the engine, pulled out into traffic, drove up to the arrival terminal, looked for the airline sign, eased over four lanes, watched for crazy taxi drivers, people hugging, people waving, yelling.....lots of friendly shouts. Quick stops and starts....looking for Mr. Right.

I glanced over and saw a figure that sure looked like him. However, all I could focus on was the frosted bag with handles that he held in his left hand. Sure there was black luggage and a dress bag and lap top bag (I guess). I only had eyes for that frosted bag with a tin inside. Ah, the gold and blue striped tin. My heart fluttered. Oh my, was it what I thought it was? I hope. I hope. I hope.

Now, don't get me wrong, I enjoy the trinkets and hotel soaps and potions and t-shirts from all the places he travels.....just this time...he was coming in from Chicago........could it be..........please, please, please.

Sure, sure, quick kiss...he hands it over. I hear music, heavenly music.

Okay, first I love that he carried it through the airport(s) and made it on the plane and put it in the overhead bin and had to talk with lots of people about their opinions about it. "Did you know it was on Oprah's favorite things list?" No he didn't. Yes, I did. He does now. ha

Second, I really love and appreciate that while on a business trip, the owner of the business drove him downtown Chicago, dropped him off and then circled around and double parked so that Mr. Right could buy a present of pure goodness for his wife. Who said business men were not soft and sweet and thoughtful?

Third, that Mr. Right somehow with everything on his mind remembered that I said I had always wanted to try it. Yep, "the" mix. I am talking about the Chicago mix. It is half cheese popcorn and half caramel corn. The smell is intoxicating and makes your mouth water. The taste, oh the taste. Just divine. Pure goodness in a tin. The tin even has a metal handle. There is a little paper piece that lines the inside lid. Tells you of the goodness.

I sat in the front seat of our car as he pulled away from the curb. I managed to open the taped seal. I opened the lid. I took a deep breath. I took one perfect piece. I slowly put it into my mouth. It was everything I thought it would be and more. It was crisp and bursting with flavor.

Oh, I just love it when Mr. Right comes home. It doesn't matter if it is just our garage door opening and him driving in from work. Or if he is home from a quick trip to the grocery store. I just melt a little bit more when he arrives at Sea/Tac International Airport after being gone on business. Especially when he comes bearing goodies from far away lands.

Have I mentioned lately that popcorn, in all it's glory, is my favorite all time food?

Have I mentioned lately that I am one lucky girl?

Love might be blind, however, this girls' obsession with popcorn, comes with crystal clear vision, at least when it comes to spotting blue and gold striped tins.

I can't wait to share

It was a dark and stormy night....

We rented "Captain America" and made sandwiches and soup.

The movie 5 stars. The soup 5 stars. Snuggled inside while
it poured outside 5 stars.

Leek Potato soup, oh yeah, yum..........nope Sunday's Child can't wait for Tuesdays Treats to share this heavenly recipe. Stop by if you need buttermilk as I have extra.

1 pound leeks, cleaned and dark green sections removed, approximately 4 to 5 medium
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
Heavy pinch kosher salt, plus additional for seasoning
14 ounces, approximately 3 small, Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and diced small
1 quart vegetable broth
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup buttermilk
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
1 tablespoon snipped chives

Directions


Chop the leeks into small pieces.

In a 6-quart saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the leeks and a heavy pinch of salt and sweat for 5 minutes. Decrease the heat to medium-low and cook until the leeks are tender, approximately 25 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add the potatoes and the vegetable broth, increase the heat to medium-high, and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low, cover, and gently simmer until the potatoes are soft, approximately 45 minutes.

Turn off the heat and puree the mixture with an immersion blender until smooth. Stir in the heavy cream, buttermilk, and white pepper. Taste and adjust seasoning if desired. Sprinkle with chives and serve immediately, or chill and serve cold.


I served it warm and with the exception of using black pepper instead of white I followed the directions to a tee.

It was the perfect comfort food for a fall evening. I highly recommend the movie and the soup. Both were out of this world.

yum

ESP

While having lunch with a girlfriend a few weeks back, we meandered through a few shops in a local small town. Me with my bright idea of "getting into" Halloween. Didn't buy a thing. We did happen upon these really lovely blocks of wood with painted letters on them. They caught my eye. I thought you could decorate with them sideways as well as up and down.

One of the nice things that comes with having a friend for over 35 years is that you sort of have this esp thing going on. You somehow know when to send a card. You just have a feeling & know when to bake cookies to share. It really kicks into high gear when you flip something over at a gift shop and you don't even look at each other. Your brain is SCREAMING $64.00 for three pieces of wood with a bit of paint! Oh dear. You both tumble out of the shop, laughing and smirking and then roar with laughter when you both say at the same time, sixty four dollars??? yeah, right.

Here's the thing about having a girl friend, when you have a poopy week because Mr. Right is gone on business, she just "happens" to want to meet for coffee. She just "happens" to have a handmade gift in the car when you hug to leave.

Yep, you already saw the end of the story coming. She went home and bought the wood and painted the letters we saw in the gift shop. Because we are friends, I KNOW she didn't pay more than $5.00. Which makes me super happy. She gave of her time and talent and her gift of art that is beyond priceless to me.

I now have Halloween up in my home. It is fun and sparkly and happy.

The heart of the giver makes the gift dear and precious.

hand made

I am quite sure you are well aware of the poem that I "sort of stole the idea" for my blog title. It is called Saturday's child poem. I am thinking maybe Sunday's Child will share Treats on Tuesdays! just a thought....

Saturdays child poem
AKA Mondays child

Mondays child is fair of face,
Tuesdays child is full of grace,
Wednesdays child is full of woe,
Thursdays child has far to go,
Fridays child is loving and giving,
Saturdays child works hard for his living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

I have embroidered that on many a dish towels. I started doing embroidery the summer when I turned 11. My grandmother took me to the dime store in Ferndale, Washington and I got to choose a stamped blank piece of fabric with a saying. It said, East West Home is Best.

My grandma had a sewing box full of all tangled embroidery floss. I chose lots of colors. Some letters are different, some words are pink, a couple are green. I loved the red. I used the red for a couple flowers.

Not very often do people ask about my stitchery. Out of the blue on Saturday I was asked about some of my samplers. Some have taken over 80 hours to complete. I use mainly linen now. Irish linen is my favorite. I have made many reproductions and then hanging beside those are more contemporary samplers. All make me really happy.

I am currently working on a piece of red work as a Christmas gift. It will be a pillow. As the person I am making it for collects snowmen, it has a big happy snowman front and center. I am backing it with snowman fabric and three black buttons to close it. Sewing here and there it is coming along nicely. Making it brings a smile to my face every single time I pick it up.

I miss browsing through cross stitch shops. I used to love to meander through real fabric stores with bolt after bolt of fabric to feel and think about.

Oh sure, I buy my share of patterns on line and fabric too. Just not the same.

I wish I could convince women my age as well as the younger generation just how much happiness it brings me to create something with my hands. There is so much talk about depression and feeling blue. In the evenings I sit under a full spectrum light and stitch away. I love planning the project. I love beginning and all through watching it come to life. I pretty much love to finish them off. All except paying to have them framed, yikes, that is a pricey date. I love giving them as gifts to people who truly understand & value the time and love that it took to make them. It brings pure joy and happiness sitting there all by myself to look at some of the pieces. Oh, and I love to visit with others who create things as well.

I would love to talk hand stitchery with anyone. I would love to have show and tell. This form of art is at times breathtaking and getting to share and view such pieces is a pleasure.

Selfishly, maybe when I am gone, my pieces will be passed on and I will be remembered.

Heart and Hand shall never part, when this you see, Remember Me.