The Sack Lunch Conspiracy

ch-ch-ch-changes

2011-10-11T23:06:00.002-06:00

We are moving.

Really soon.

And somehow my mom has conveniently booked at trip to the District "to see my sisters" next week.

That is code for "heaven help me, I can't handle helping you move..."

Just kidding.

But not really.

It's ok. I know where I rate, and it is understandably below the cute little grandbabies.

Anyway.

We are moving.

Tonight I spent some time pulling out nails and washing walls, trying to erase the evidence that we have lived here for almost 17 years.

And it makes me melancholy.

Oh well.

as sands in the hourglass ...

2011-05-26T13:12:00.005-06:00

holy cow. I just scrolled down a little on my blog and I encountered a post from the last day of school, 2010. And here we are on the last day of school, 2011. how in the world did that happen?!!!? I am afraid. Very afraid.

In just three short months, the Middle Carrotstick will be entering Junior High. And the Oldest Carrotstick will be a Junior in High School. The thought just makes me want to weep. At least my baby (dramatically pronounced: bayh-bee) will still be safely ensconced in Elementary School.

I remember when I was first put into Young Womens. I looked at my girls who were Juniors in High School and thought they were so old and so mature. Now I look at my daughter and I think "She's just a baby. She's not old. She's not mature. She's just a child."

Earlier this year, in this never-ending spring, the Oldest Carrotstick went to a Stake meeting to start planning Stake Girls Camp. Before they got down to business they did some team building and get-to-know-you activities. One question the girls were all asked was: "If you could be guaranteed success at one thing, what would you do?" The girls went around the room and shared their responses. One girl said "I would convert the whole world." Another girl said "I would cure cancer." and so forth. Then it got to the Oldest Carrotstick. And what was her dream?

"I would fly."

See what I mean. Mature? Junior in High School? Not so much. Junior High? Possibly.

I just wish I could make all three Carrotsticks stay my little babies.

Unfortunately, they are all too eager to grow up.

Curses.

what's in a name?

2011-05-05T09:11:00.015-06:00

Hey look! It's May and I'm actually posting! It's only been 4 months since my last post. Ah-maz-ing. Enough of your sarcasm, people. Read on for the story!

In our morning scripture study today, the boys and I were reading Alma 54 -- the correspondence between Ammoron and Moroni, negotiating the exchange of prisoners. We try to read every morning, and we take turns reading so that no one falls asleep.

It was the Middle Carrotsticks turn to read. He read along, in not quite monotone. The Youngest Carrotstick and I followed along (the Oldest Carrotstick was at school already -- enduring 4 weeks of 5:30 am drivers education -- and PB&J was off in southern lands). Eventually, the Middle got to verse 23. And he read:

" I am a Moron, and a descendant of Zoram, whom your fathers pressed and brought out of Jerusalem."

instead of "I am Ammoron, and a descendant of Zoram...."

And boy, how those boys laughed. Some things will never change -- little boys and their sense of humor being one of them.

a fairy tale

2011-01-18T15:47:00.008-07:00

once upon a time, many many months ago, a little princess named Oldest Carrotstick (called Carrot for short) went on a journey with her sometimes wicked mother to a far off land called the District.

the journey to the District was a long and tiring one. it involved an early morning ride in a horseless carriage, flying through the clouds for many many hours, and then, before the journey was done there was a frantic sprint through a unfriendly and confusing train station, through which the poor princess had to drag her own bag -- heavily burdened with a weeks worth of outfits, accessories, and shoes.

finally, Carrot and her mother, the lowly Lunch Lady, were met by a beautiful Farm Girl. she smiled happily at them and embraced them and they were overjoyed (especially because the Farm Girl was with child and it was very exciting to see her little baby bump). without delay, Farm Girl whisked the two weary travelers out of the oppressive labyrinth, onto a speeding subway train, and finally to her awaiting carriage. shortly thereafter, the gentle and congenial Farm Girl delivered them to a calm, clean, and quiet room on the 7th floor of the Marriott castle. it was a wonderful thing.

After a delightful dinner with the Farm Girl and he who is of Beaver Mountain fame, and a strange and disappointing cupcake by the name of "Peanut Butter Bacon", Carrot and the Lunch Lady retired to their rooms, to rest their weary heads.

Alas, all was not well for our dear young heroine. The Oldest Carrotstick declined her mothers generous offer to share her lovely king-sized bed with its down comforter and generous selection of pillows-- for which the Lunch Lady was deeply grateful -- choosing rather to sleep on the hide-a-bed. But how could our fair princess sleep when the bed had but one thin blanket and a mere two pillows!

Never fear, dear reader. For the OCS is a maiden of great courage and fortitude. She reached for the awaiting phone, and without further ado, she called the Housekeeping Staff and importuned,

"Um, hi. This is room 727. Can I get 5 more blankets and 7 more pillows?"

I kid you not.

And she slept happily ever after for the rest of her spring break trip.

cougar pride

2010-10-27T15:14:00.003-06:00

Proud to be a Cougar because of brillant commercials like this:

The Middle Carrotstick pretty much has this memorized. I suggested he could be the Old Spice guy wearing the towel for Halloween, but he's not going for it. "Look at your costume, look at mine ...."

what? you're still here?

2010-09-30T10:54:00.005-06:00

Good old blog. Neglected soooo very long and still hanging around, wishing I'd give it a little attention. Blogs are nice that way. Very loyal. Like PB&J's crazy dog.

Here's a little awesomeness I saw floating around the blogosphere.

Thought I'd share it with you.

Seriously, it is awesome.

Take some time to watch it.

Now, sit.

Press play.

Good blog reader, good blog reader.

And no, I won't give you a treat, because this video is treat enough. You will be happier after you watch it. Happier and possibly slightly jealous. I know I am.

Enjoy!

(and yes, I've been told I'm bossy once or twice. but that's it.)

just so you know

2010-05-27T11:39:00.002-06:00

Netanyahu is pretty much my favorite name ever.

Just say it to yourself over and over: Net - an - ya -hu.

See? It's fun!

And today is the last day of school.

Fun for kids. Sad for me. 'Specially since it means my daughter is no longer in Junior High.

I am really REALLY sad about that.

I have to admit I have driven by the High School more than once and felt overwhelmingly depressed by it.

If you see me wandering the streets muttering "Netanyahu" over and over you'll know why. I'm just trying to find my happy place.

what's the count, blue?

2010-05-18T22:54:00.019-06:00

For those of you who had to endure the rigors of teen-age-hood-ness-dom/dumb without the aid of a cell phone and unlimited texting, let me just tell you: you missed out. Texting makes the teen experience a team sport.

For a teen, texting is an ADHD kids dream come true. you can have multiple meaningless conversations all at once. And you can get instant feedback on the dramas of your life from your 10 BFFs simultaneously.

Take for example the following "game" that occurred just this evening.

Let me set up the play for you.

In the texting line-up, Oldest Carrotstick is texting one friend from cheer, one BFF (thankfully a girl), one boy she flirted with last summer but in whom she currently has NO interest, and two boys she has met in the last two weeks with whom she is doing the preliminary do-i-want-to-like-you? get-to-know-you's.

Suddenly, out of the blue, boy #4 "Jack" texts her. Up until Saturday, Jack was the top contender in the possible love interest competition, but then Jack dropped the ball -- by letting approximately 45 minutes to 2 hours pass in between several texting exchanges Saturday night. Which is unforgiveable since he is a really good baseball player -- in real life. Error. He then had the audacity to not initiate any texting conversations at all on Sunday. Strike 1. Or Monday. Strike 2.

Finally, at 8:30 Tuesday night, Jack checks in, knowing full well that the Oldest Carrotstick's evil and over-protective mother turns off her texting at precisely 9:00 on weekdays and 10:00 on weekends. A move OCS found to be cowardly. It's like jumping out of the box cuz your afraid the pitcher is going to hit you. Strike 3.

The bases were loaded, but he struck out. Hence the following conversation occurred between the hitter -- Jack, the pitcher -- OCS, and the ump -- OCS's BFF:

8:30 Jack: Hey! :)

8:32 OCS to Jack: oh hi. whats up (note the absence of exclamation points & emoticons. very telling.)

8:32 OCS to BFF: JACK JUST TEXTED ME!

8:32 BFF: what did that kid say?

8:32 OCS to BFF: FW: Hey! :)

8:32 BFF: wow. seriously? who does he think he is?

8:32 OCS to BFF: I know right?

8:33 Jack: (blissfully unware that the ump -- BFF -- has just called Game Over) just sittin here

8:36 OCS to Jack: O cool

I guess the same advice applies to teens as it does to kids up to bat -- keep your eye on the ball, wait for the good ones, and make it be there.

(Yes this post is very confused. I'm not sure where I am going with it. Obviously. Maybe I'll rewrite it later this afternoon. Sorry. But, in other matters of important business, I will soon be posting on my recent trips to DC and Chicago. I know you are dying to see all my vacation pictures, so check back soon!)

these shoes weren't made for walking

2010-04-09T10:46:00.001-06:00

the Oldest Carrotsick and I are visiting my sister in DC for spring break. this is a picture of our feet on the Mall. one of us made poor shoe choices for this trip. can you guess who? also one of us is sorely disappointed there are no stores on the mall. ;)

why the number 7 is dead to me

2010-04-02T12:05:00.004-06:00

Recently, the Youngest Carrotstick's baseball team was charged with the arduous task of choosing their "number". The number 5 seemed to be a favorite.

As did the number 23.

Number 3 was a close third.

The Youngest Carrotstick got lucky and got 3.

But there was quite a lot of debate about what the cool numbers were and why this number was better than another. Number 5 was a family tradition in several families. Do you know why 23 is so hot?

Here's a hint, in case you, like me, are sports challenged:

I, myself, like odd numbers. Especially prime numbers. 'Cause I'm a nerd like that, I guess. Except that now the number 7 is dead to me.

Why? you ask.

Because.

Within 7 months -- from March to October -- my life will be completely changed.

No. I am not two months pregnant. But thanks for wondering.

It began in March with this:

(These are the baptism pictures that my sister asked for. You can skip them if you want. I know you needed my permission to do so, and now you have it. Skip away, guilt free.)

I was just informed that my 20 year High School reunion is scheduled to take place in July. Don't worry, I'm not going.

And then goes on to the advent of High School for the Oldest Carrotstick.

And ends with the Middle Carrotstick receiving the Priesthood.

I'm sorry.

I can't talk about this anymore.

Curse you, number 7.

I remember when 7 was a good number -- it comes before 8, and 8 is when you get baptized. Now it is just making me feel old. It might as well be 97.

50 randumb things

2010-03-23T09:19:00.008-06:00

1. By 9:21 this morning I had already been to Wallies and returned home.

2. I went to go pick up the just-released final book in a series that the Oldest Carrotstick and the Middle Carrotstick have been reading.

3. I may or may not have also read it.

4. I may or may not have picked it up early this morning so that I could spend the whole day with the book to myself and finish it FIRST.

5. But that wouldn't be very responsible. And I am all about being responsible.

6. Which is why, though I wore the Oldest Carrotsticks very expensive jeans to Wallies, I will take them off before she gets home.

7. Because I didn't ask first.

8. I thought about texting her at school and asking.

9. But then I rationalized not asking by pointing out to myself that she took the jeans off, dropped them on the floor in my bathroom, and left them there 18 hours ago.

10. So she doesn't really care about responsibility.

11. Yet.

12. Hopefully someday she will be responsible like me.

13. And do really worthwhile things.

14. Like blog.

15. And spend a whole day reading books and not cleaning the house.

16. The point of the jeans, though, is I wore them not just because they were there and very handy, but because I thought that maybe if I wore them to Wallies at 9 o'clock in the A.M. that I would, in fact, feel Sassy.

17. A friend of ours, whenever you ask him how he's doing, always responds "Fat and Sassy."

18. I like it.

19. At least the Sassy part.

20. Nobody likes to feel fat.

21. Except at Thanksgiving.

22. And then it's only good if it's a temporary thing.

23. Just like Peeps should only be a temporary thing.

24. Only at Easter.

25. Not any of those other holidays.

26. And certainly not in Flavors.

27. Ewww.

28. And can anyone tell me why, for the exact same price, you get only 10 Chick Peeps but 12 Bunny Peeps?

29. It makes it not very fiscally responsible to buy the Chicks.

30. Even though they are better.

31. And you know I'm all about being responsible.

32. Which is why I am having guilt about wanting to read this book all day today.

33. Instead of going to get the oil changed in my car.

34. But getting the oil changed in my car means sitting at the place and waiting.

35. And the place stinks because they also sell tires.

36. I really hate that smell.

37. At least I'm not as weird about smells as the Oldest Carrotstick.

38. The other day she made a disconcerting realization.

39. She really likes the way a friend of hers smells.

40. (The friend is a boy.)

41. And a couple of weeks ago, she found herself sitting in between PB&J and her friend's dad at a BYU basketball game.

42. After the game, she reported to me that her friend and his dad smell the same.

43. It was slightly demoralizing for her.

44. Sometimes you just can't trust smells.

45. They might just come from deodorant.

46. Which is really just covering up stink.

47. But thank goodness for deodorant.

48. Although I love Jane Austen, I always wonder what things smelled like in her era.

49. They probably stunk.

50. Just like this post.

(Do you want me to try for 100? What do you think?)

hair apparent

2010-03-11T08:17:00.003-07:00

My sister-in-law just posted this picture of my niece on her blog.

And here is a picture of my daughter from this summer (she won the big hair contest at girls camp):

The family resemblance is striking -- and a little unexpected -- is it not?

get a life?

2010-03-10T08:30:00.009-07:00

The other day I read this quote. It was really good, and I felt like it applied to some things the Oldest Carrotstick was going through. I read it to her, and she liked it and asked me if I would type it up for her so she could stick in on her mirror. Like any mom would, I agreed.

And since I have been going through my photo archives getting pictures printed and generally catching up on the past two years of life in snapshots, I knew I had this great picture of an African Daisy that I had taken two years ago -- which is pretty much one of my favorite flowers because I love the purple/orange combo.

And I thought, "I think I will put that quote on that picture of the daisy." Cuz I love photoshop and all. So I did.

It looks like this:

Nice, right?

Last night, I went and got a yogurt with one of my Laurels. As we chatted, something she said reminded me of this quote. At the end of our yogurt date, I told her I had a little something for her. I ran in the house, grabbed a copy of the daisy quote that I had just printed up in triplicate, and gave it to her.

It was at that moment that I realized I am a freak.

Who in the world makes handouts just for fun?

Anyone willing to do an intervention?

(Just step away from the computer, Sister Lunch.)

But if it means releasing me from my calling, please don't bother.

wish i thought of that

2010-03-09T08:29:00.006-07:00

I heart clever creative people.

Check this out:

and then of course there's the treadmill video --

and now they have a new one:

I love me some Ok Go.

signs o' the times

2010-03-02T19:48:00.010-07:00

In light of the recent catastrophic events, I thought I'd share with you a few other signs of the times.

I took pictures of all these signs last summer, and just recently remembered them.

Let me know how apt you find them. Or how ridiculous.

I didn't know Motion Sickness counted as an Act of God.

At the Oquirrh Mountain Temple Open House:

(Is the free speech area restricted to the area inside the trash can?)

Inside an Outhouse:

(Just ignore the handwritten graffiti. It's more entertaining without it.)

Lucky kids. I wish I had a magic carpet.

And always good advice:

I hope this post doesn't make you rethink your kind bloggy well-wishes!

so sophomoric

2010-02-23T14:16:00.010-07:00

Today I met the Oldest Carrotstick at school for ...

High.School.Registration.

(I was the only mom there. I wonder if I embarrassed her. I don't really care if I did, cuz that's what moms do.)

But. It was sad for me.

(Have you seen the kids that go to High School? They are big. And old. And some of the things they do and say frighten me. It about makes my blood run cold in my veins to think of sending her there.)

And then, to top it off, my baby is going to turn eight and be baptized in about 10 1/2 days.

In the words of the great philosopher, David After Dentist, "Is this real life? . . . Why is this happening to me? Is this going to be forever?"

I have to admit, some days I wish I didn't feel anything. It's hard being a mom.

halloween

2009-11-13T08:07:00.004-07:00

super fan

2009-10-22T09:07:00.006-06:00

The Oldest Carrotstick has discovered a latent love for the game of football.She has been to more football games this fall than she ever has in her entire life. (I would say she's watched more football, but that would be an untruth.) She has attended varsity football games at each of the three high schools in our area, and even a number of the freshman football games.

Doesn't it seem odd then that she turned down PB&J's extra BYU Football tickets to the last home game?

What is it about this: that is so much more interesting to her than this?

I wonder. ;)

today's secret ingredient:

2009-10-04T16:59:00.011-06:00

This weekend has been very low key. And that's nice. Yesterday we watched 4 hours of General Conference (yay!) And the since I wasn't feeling very well, I also watched way too many hours of the Iron Chef Marathon of a previous season's reruns. It was awesome. Real chefs can create amazing feats of wonder with the weirdest ingredients. Probably the strangest concoction was Catfish and Grape Truffles. Though the host (Alton Brown) cautioned the judge not to throw up, she said it was surprisingly ok. I have my doubts.

The Oldest Carrotstick didn't complain too much about my Iron Chef obsession. She even watched some of it with me, and her eyes were opened a little to the world of haute cuisine.

Today, we watched Conference and had dinner at my mom and dad's. (It was yummy in a very non-catfish truffle sort-of-way.) When Conference was at last over, we packed up our stuff to head home. But before we left, she raided the pantry and grabbed some jerky for the ride home.

In the car, happily munching on her jerky and listening to her iPod, she paused for a second to ask me a question.

"Mom, what kind of bird is a Teriyaki?"

Me: "What?"

OC: "A Teriyaki. Is it like a chicken?"

Me: "Do you mean Pterodactyl? It's a bird-like dinosaur."

OC: "No, Teriyaki. Like Teriyaki Jerky... What kind of bird is that?"

This weekend, thanks to the Iron Chef, the Oldest Carrotstick and I were exposed to a world full of exotic foods -- frog legs, quail eggs, and now: the little known Teriyaki Bird. Dodo? Or perhaps the elusive Teriyaki?

a rose by any other name

2009-10-01T21:05:00.007-06:00

I just saw this on a blog:It's called F@t E1vis.

You can buy it here.

I would order it because of the awesome name. And also because its banana/chocolate chip/peanut butter fudge flavored. How could it not be awesome?

But really I just love the name. Even though I don't love fat E1vis.

The Littlest Carrotstick wants to be E1vis for Halloween. I haven't shown him any pictures of the King yet.

I wonder which incarnation he'll choose. This one . . .

or this one?

I'm afraid I'd still choose the cakey one.

duh

2009-09-30T17:18:00.004-06:00

Today, after the kids got home from school, I set about lining the boys up with their afternoon jobs. When I finished the list, I noticed the Middle Carrotstick was looking a little glassy eyed, and so I started to repeat the list -- thinking that the blank stare meant he hadn't been listening.

The Middle Carrotstick interrupted me.

"Mom." he said, "I speak the King's English."

well, allrighty then.

schizophrenic

2009-09-28T15:50:00.004-06:00

do you think that in my next life, I could come back as a sports photographer?

here's my portfolio, for future reference:

safe? or out? what's your call?

check out this kid's face as he was inches away from being beaned by the ball...

and then there's this one:

Ok. I didn't actually take this one. some other mom did and I'm jealous. this is right after the boys won state and they did a celebratory lap around the bases. check out the setting sun and the rising dust. it's almost poetic, isn't it?

(I promise, this is the last of my baseball pictures. I think.)

What would you want to be in your next life?

seriously?

2009-09-16T12:30:00.011-06:00

Though baseball season is long (practice started in April and championship games finished in the middle of July), we seriously enjoyed watching the boys play. It was a good way to spend an evening, sitting down at the ballfield.

To the casual onlooker, here's the team:

See, they're all happy. They won.

And now here's the tabloid version of the team (because inquiring minds want to know):

It was stressful for me because so much rides on the pitcher, and we take our baseball very seriously in this town.

'Cause we take our baseball very seriously around here.

'Cause we take our baseball way too seriously around here.

'Cause he takes his baseball very seriously even when he's not around here.

'Cause we take our baseball very seriously around here.

Also, his mom was almost escorted out of the ballpark for arguing with a mom on the other team during the city championship. (We take our baseball very seriously around here, you know.)

And he doesn't take baseball very seriously, at all.

But seriously, it's a game! And it was fun! When it wasn't too serious. And especially when they won.

(please don't stone me for blasphemy!)

not-so white socks

2009-09-15T22:40:00.014-06:00

I just got back from an evening with the ladies in my book group and I feel so energized, I think I will blog. I know. Novel. Me. Blogging. Besides that, the Oldest Carrotstick is feeling neglected by the blogosphere and my failure to document her life. So, with that preface, I will now try to catch up on Old News. (Never fear, Oldest Carrotstick. I will write about you, just not in this post.)

Remember my string of posts bemoaning red dirt and white baseball pants?

What?????

You don't?!!!!!!????!!!

I don't blame you. I bored myself.

So here's a little refresher course. Hopefully it is slightly more entertaining.

Take this guy:

Add some of this:

Throw in a few of these:

And a shot of this:
(Come on, Blue!)

(This is me, trying take pictures through a chain link fence. Some of the parents were arguing the call and asked me if I had any evidence. Unfortunately, I think if you peer into the dust you can see the shadow of the 2nd baseman's foot on the base and the Middle Carrotstick isn't quite there.)

And you'll end up with a whole lot of this:

And sometimes even

a second (consecutive) State Championship Medal!

(These pictures are making me miss summer already.)

rise and shout!

2009-09-10T11:52:00.008-06:00

PB&J had a most excellent time in the great state of Texas watching the Cougs take it to the Sooners.

It was joyful and triumphant.

In honor of that historic occasion, please enjoy looking at the following, found here:

Just what every kitchen needs: roadkill armadillo potholders.

Can I get a yeeeeeee-haaaaaw?

life's not fair

2009-08-21T19:00:00.007-06:00

I've been playing with Poladroid and turning some of my pictures from the city fair back in July into faux polaroids.

It takes a while for the Poladroids to develop. I'm a little impatient, so that's the hardest part about the program. But it makes me feel all cutting edge artsy-fartsy when they are done!

Check it out. It's kind of fun!

that shower-fresh feeling

2009-08-06T18:19:00.003-06:00

it seems it rained mud while I was in the mall today.

forever in love

2009-07-24T12:03:00.001-06:00

me and PB&J's wedding was just like this ...

the temple workers didn't much appreciate it.

casey up to bat

2009-07-21T20:39:00.013-06:00

wanna know where we've been all summer?

at home.

plate.

watching baseball.

The Youngest Carrotstick has been playing:

which more often than not ended up being: which has been just a little frustrating for the Youngest Carrotstick. It has forced him to plead:

(more than once)

because he likes to hit and he wants to hit it far.

(great action shot, right?)

As the Youngest Carrotstick discovered, the amazing thing about 1st grade baseball is:

And the Youngest Carrotstick really likes to run.

He also really likes to throw baseballs.

In just two more years, he could actually be the one pitching. He's spent the last three months practicing pitching with this kid, at all of the Middle Carrotstick's baseball games. He can't wait to really pitch in a game.
But I sure can.

(I really don't like this picture. I think he looks old. Even with an orange Gatorade mustache. He looks kind of like some of the Oldest Carrotsticks punk friends. I don't want my sweet little baby boy to turn into a little punk.)

(Pretty soon he'll be shaving.)

Machine pitch isn't that bad, son. Please don't grow up.

handy ma'am

2009-07-15T09:23:00.012-06:00

fyi: I survived girls camp, in case you were worried. And I even had fun! (Kind of a miracle, considering I only went to Girls Camp twice when I was a Young Woman.)

I have also survived the return home. All the camp stuff is put away, and the laundry is done. I even survived giving a last minute talk in Sacrament Meeting on Sunday.

But then: Monday came, PB&J had to go out of town, and the dishwasher decided to break. Three strikes. Monday should be out. Boo.

Faced with the options of hand washing a dishwasher full of dirty dishes (eewww) and replacing yet another dishwasher (our third in 15 years), I decided to follow the example of my friends Betsy Case and Janice Cooks-Bailey (who have both singlehandedly saved their washing machines from the brink of death multiple times) and try to fix it myself.

I consulted the wisdom of the internets and found no real answer. I poured hot water and vinegar in it and let it sit overnight. Nothing. No go. The motor runs, but no water fills it. So I tried again. "Oh great internets," I pled, "please give me the solution to my problem." I looked at a highly technical dishwasher web page with lots of incomprehensible terms and links to further diagnostics. I read something about floats. I thought of the float in the toilet. Though I have never seen a black plastic ball in the dishwasher, and didn't know where a float-thing in a dishwasher might be located, but there was this weird little upside down cup-like thing at the front of the dishwasher. So I wiggled it, debated about undoing the bolt that held it down, and then decided to pour water over it. A lot of water.

Holding my breath, expecting the worst, I turned on the dishwasher, and behold! It worked!!! And I rejoiced. And I praised the internets and Al Gore. (Not really on the Al Gore part.)

Then I called PB&J.

Me: (all nonchalant) "Hey, guess what I just did."

Him: "What?"

Me: "I fixed the dishwasher."

Him: "Huh?"

Me: "Yah, I fixed it. I pulled the whole thing apart, piece by piece, laid it all out on the kitchen floor, and then single handedly studied each piece, cleaned it, sprayed it all with WD-40, and put it back together again. Even the tricky little e-lec-tronic controller part. And it then . . . it worked"

Him: (laughing) "ok, what really happened?"

Me: (a little deflated) "I poured water over some part inside the dishwasher and it came unstuck and worked."

Him: (still laughing) "Well, I guess I owe you dinner out for saving the dishwasher."

Darn right. And it'll be a nice one too, because dishwashers can be expensive.

Isn't it nice to have a handy ma'am around the house?

I'm very proud of myself, in case you can't tell.

let freedom rain

2009-07-04T14:04:00.002-06:00

we are camping up on the mountain for the 4th of July.

it keeps raining. and raining. and raining some more

so we are doing a whole lot of sitting around inside. looking outside. wishing it would stop raining.

hope you are having a great independence day!

in the genes

2009-06-25T17:09:00.001-06:00

The Middle Carrotstick has also felt the urge to climb up tall tree trunks freakishly fast. He and PB&J did the high ropes course together today while Mom (me) watched from below -- a nervous wreck. I get that from my mom. Thanks, Mom.

spider monkey

2009-06-24T11:42:00.003-06:00

all the Oldest Carrotstick's late night trips down mountain trails must have unwittingly led the her into a Twilight encounter. Today she went all Edw@rd Cu!!en on us, and though she protested mightily, she successfully completed the high ropes course! She scampered up that hanging tree trunk with no problem -- and no freaky looking computer animated enhancements ala the first Twilight movie.

I am glad to report that no other vampire-like traits have yet been exhibited. Though I wonder if I should be afraid for my safety, because PB&J did the same yesterday afternoon. I'll be on the lookout for unusual bite marks on my neck. If tomorrow I report that I have taken leave of my senses and climbed the high ropes course myself, you'll know what happened.

age appropriate

2009-06-23T19:34:00.002-06:00

This family camp has been very different for PB&J and I than it has in years past.

can you see what is missing from this picture?

look closely.

give up?

I'll tell you. there is no Oldest Carrotstick. this camp has been a dream come true for her. it's all about hanging out with new friends 14 hours a day. we see her only briefly at meals and when she needs to change clothes. last night was the best! she was hanging out with a group of Young Adults (15 to college-age) and they asked her what college she was going to. Frighteningly, she played right along with it and told them she was going to go to BYU or Utah State.

I think I need to pull out the "I'm only 13" sign.

we first came here when she was only 4 and still needed and wanted us.

I miss those days.

orange crush

2009-06-22T12:36:00.000-06:00

I love me some orange fanta.

it is my drink of choice for one week, every other year when we take our kids on our biannual trip to aspen grove family camp.

wish you were here!

really!

partly cloudy with a chance of mud

2009-06-19T11:32:00.000-06:00

Here are the results of the Middle Carrotsticks Wednesday night slide into the homebase mud hole.
I am currently considering reworking my investment portfolio to include Spray and Wash stock. it is a commodity for so many moms.

spies like us

2009-06-18T16:17:00.006-06:00

if you are going to drive a scooter, it's best if you do it in style.

(I felt very double-oh-seven trying to covertly take this girl's picture with my phone without her thinking I was a crazy stalker person. You should try it! It's fun! Hey, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to take an undercover picture, post it on your blog, then leave me a message in my comments and I'll check it out! I'll be the "M" to your James Bond! Just don't do it in a creepy bad illegal way. That's my disclaimer. I am not trying to encourage delinquency in any way, shape, or form.)

2009-06-16T11:52:00.001-06:00

this is what my kitchen looks like right now. aren't you jealous? looks like the only thing cooking right now is my brain on lacquer fumes.

the sandlot/dirtpit?

2009-06-15T20:55:00.002-06:00

I would personally like to thank the grounds keepers of our fair city's parks and recreation areas for importing such a lovely red dirt for the baseball fields. if they had been satisfied with the natural brown dirt indigeneous to our area, I would be missing out on so much fun trying to get the red dirt stains out of the Middle Carrotsticks white baseball pants.

why is sliding into base such a thrill for 10 year-old boys????

soccer: a how-to

2009-06-08T23:21:00.012-06:00

You thought I was kidding when I threatened to post 1 million soccer pictures. I wasn't.

For your enlightenment, here is a little tutorial on how to play soccer, presented by the Carrotsticks.

In the manner of all great books, it has few words and lots of pictures. (Be glad I didn't take the technical writing class when I went to college. Then it would be even harder to understand -- because I would have to write it in english, translate it into chinese, and once everything comprehensible was thoroughly twisted, change it back into the unintelligible dialect commonly known as "Reference Manual Modified ChineEnglish.")

(which she did. seriously. her nickname is now "bruiser".)

And, finally, in Reference Manual Modified ChineEnglish:

Many sad goodbyes as happy we are you visited us came.

tongue in cheek

2009-05-23T11:10:00.007-06:00

With the plethora of end of the year activities, I take pictures, dump them onto my computer, and then hurry and empty the card so I'm ready for the next round of photo opportunities. I finally got around to looking at my soccer pictures today. So if my next fifty posts are all about soccer, you know why. It's because I have spent a hundred hours of my life this spring watching soccer. And I want you to share in my ~~pain~~ joy.

In looking at the Youngest Carrotsticks pictures, I noticed a marked trend amongst the 1st grade boys. Look at the following pictures. Do you see what I saw?

Apparently, one's skill on the soccer field is dramatically increased if one's mouth is open! Who knew? This is a major sports breakthrough, people!

After doing extensive research on the subject, the scientists in the Lunchroom have identified 6 major mouth/tongue player styles:

Stay tuned for further information as we correlate mouth/tongue styles to their most effective player positions!

macabre? maybe.

2009-05-14T21:08:00.005-06:00

I just saw this listed on etsy:

It is entitled "Giraffe Gaffe".

I think it is incredibly funny. A little gruesome, possibly. But the whole picture/title combo kills me.

You have to click on this link and read what the seller/creator wrote about it. The things people do.

Do you think that's weird? Are you worried that I am amused by this?

city mouse, country mouse

2009-05-13T08:14:00.020-06:00

Soccer season is officially over. Now I have no excuses for not posting about our trip to Chicago. And so, for your viewing pleasure, may I share with you the remarkable similarities and differences between Chicago, Illinois and Provo, Utah? (Warning, this is long-ish, but it is mostly pictures and not too much text.)

Let us embark on our journey.

First off, Chicago and Provo have rivers. Behold, the Chicago River and its environs:(See, the river is there on the bottom left, just below the dead tree. "They" say that in the great Chicago Fire of 18-something-something -- the one where Mrs. O'Leary's cow knocked over the lantern -- that even the river burned because it was so full of garbage. And refuse, even. The river burned!! How sick is that??!!! )

And then there is the Provo River and its environs:

Both have interesting downtown skylines. Can you tell which is which?

Both cities have holy ground. Behold, the Provo LDS Temple.

And a piece of granite from the Salt Lake LDS Temple embedded in the side of the Chicago Tribune building.

Both Chicago and Provo are extremely proud of their hometown heroes:

(Yes, that is Kate with the big man himself. They workout together. Sometimes he asks her to spot for him.)

And Provo's big man. His name is Bronco. Bronco Mendenhall. If you live in Provo, you know who he is.

Provo and Chicago each have a favorite letter of the alphabet. Provo's is "Y".

Chicago's is "L" -- as in the e"L"evated train. (The locals call it the L.)

Both cities have fairgrounds. Here's Provo's:

And here is a small part of one building from the Chicago World Fair.

Both cities host collegiate commencements. Here is the home of the University of Chicago's graduation ceremonies, the Rockefeller Chapel:

And in Provo, BYU's matriculates commence in the Marriott Center:

Both have residences that attract visitors from around the world. Chicago is home to the Robie House designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.And in Provo, visitors flock to the Missionary Training Center, temporary home to Elders Frank, Lloyd, and Wright. (Or is that Sister Wright?)

See, it's remarkable the similarities between the two cities! I can't imagine why the Oldest Carrotstick was so shell-shocked. However, there is one thing that Chicago has, that sadly, Provo no longer has claim to: (Ok, excluding the one on the left.) My sister Kate and her smarty pants husband Bill (and their cat, Cassius).

Thanks for an awesome time in Chicago!

We love you!

provo picture originally downloaded by provoimages

provo river picture originally downloaded by katie so didn't

marriott center picture originally downloaded by Spaz Du Zoo

mtc picture originally downloaded by Spaz Du Zoo

fair picture originally downloaded by kallen photos

y mountain originally downloaded by troikkonen
provo temple originally downloaded by redsteve

bronco picture originally downloaded by phred84044

L picture originally downloaded by suvarn

life lessons

2009-05-12T20:06:00.013-06:00

Lest you have forgotten

(as did the little third-grader on the Middle Carrotstick's baseball team)

Let the Little League coach remind you:

"There's no crying in baseball!"

All the great truths of life are brought to play on a baseball diamond.

good grief!

2009-05-07T09:04:00.004-06:00

So the tooth fairy fell a little behind last night and this is what she gets from the Youngest Carrotstick.

Should I be glad or concerned that he doesn't know how to spell "heck"? And can you tell that they have just done a unit on quotation marks in first grade?

sisters sisters

2009-05-03T20:26:00.007-06:00

Remember how I told you the Oldest Carrotstick and I went to visit my sister Competitive Kate in Chicago last month?

We really had a great time. I am going to do a "best of" post one of these days. I just haven't gotten around to it, what with 3 kids in soccer, 3 kids in piano, 1 kid in baseball (so far), 1 kid in dance, and church stuff, things have been a little busy.

But here is a picture from our trip -- my sister and the Oldest Carrotstick at the Rockefeller Chapel at the University of Chicago. I was 11 when Kate was born. Kate was 12 when the Oldest Carrotstick was born. Kate says the Oldest Carrotstick is the little sister she always wanted.

For that reason, I like this picture of these two "sisters" in matchy-matchy red jackets. They are both so cute.

Out of curiousity, what color would you say Kate's hair is? Here's a close up.

(I do dearly love to tease my baby sister!)

2009-05-01T19:17:00.001-06:00

Since you are all so curious, here are my sunglasses. Seriously, do these glasses make me look like an Oompa-Loompa?

They are from only the coolest store ever (Anthropologie -- need I say more?) And so I have to be cool just by association, right?

back atcha

2009-04-29T17:19:00.005-06:00

In preparation for the advent of summer (which will have to come, one of these days) I bought new sunglasses today. They are red.

I think they are cute.

When the Oldest Carrotstick saw them, she laughed at me. A lot.

I still think they are cute.
However, the Oldest Carrotstick's uncontrolled mockery, laughter, and ridicule is making me wonder about how cute I think she is.

I am posting these pictures to try to remind myself that she is, in fact, cute. And sweet. And kind to others.

I am trying to remember that it is a unwritten rule that it is a teen-ager's job to mock her mother.

It is also an unwritten rule that it is a mom's job to embarrass their teen-age daughter. I think I will wear my red sunglasses, the ridiculously ugly gold floral D.I. housecoat I bought as a joke, and possibly some pink fluffy slippers when I go to pick her up from school tomorrow. And I will make sure I go right to her classroom door, and walk all the way out to the parking lot with my arm around her shoulders, as she, dying from embarrassment, looks down at the floor hoping not to be recognized by anyone she knows.

Mwahahahaha!

"Just doin' my job, mom. Just doin' my job."

(And why I added a caption under that picture, I have no idea. It's starting to be a frightening trend. Please excuse me. )

cast your vote

2009-04-25T22:00:00.007-06:00

The Oldest Carrotstick has decided to run for next year's Student Council. 'Cause it'll look good on her college application, don'tcha know?

Because she didn't find out until yesterday if she qualified, we put off making posters for her campaign until today. (Thankfully, they were limited to a total of 3 posters.)

And since I am totally in love with the Powers of Photoshop -- and against sloppy, crooked, hand-lettered Vote For Me posters that never quite turn out as well as you hope they will (I really try not to be a control freak. Really, I do. But sometimes it's really hard.) It meant that today we were outside taking pictures of her for her campaign.

Outside.

Today.

In the rain.

And then the snow.

(It's April, right?)

I kept telling her "It's ok, rainstorms never last very long in Utah."

And on and on it rained.

And then snowed.

Finally, we got all our planned shots. Then we ran home, I photoshopped, and then ran to Costco to get them printed up before they closed at 7:00. Why in the world does Costco close at 7:00 on a Saturday night? Don't they know they are supposed to stay open until 12 for all the last minute won't-shop-on-Sunday-Mormons?

Anyway. Here are her posters.

(Can I just tell you, I love the balloon one!?)

This one is supposed to be a take off of the Arby's "I'm thinking Arby's campaign" -- you know, with the little cowboy hat over their head. I know, it's a bit of a stretch. Use your imagination.

This was the last shot of the day. Her hair is totally soaked. But she had an amazingly good attitude. So unlike the time I wanted to do a photoshoot of the kids for our Christmas cards. It's all about motivation, I tell you.

I really like the balloon one. Here it is without the words.

So great!

2009-04-16T20:44:00.002-06:00

So far, the trip is going well. The Oldest Carrotstick got a few catcalls yesterday, and today she was lucky enough to find her knight in shining armor. It was a small consolation for being drug through the Art Institute of Chicago. (Why this picture is so small, I don't know.)

We saw the original American Gothic and discovered that the lady in the painting was supposed to be the farmer's disappointed-in-love-and-life maiden daughter, not his crabby wife, like I always thought. Here's a picture of the O.C. with a giant 3-D reproduction of American Gothic standing in a plaza Downtown. If you look really close at the bottom of the farmer's pitchfork, you can see the Oldest Carrotstick hanging on it. It is huge!!!

I am posting from my cell phone and I can't figure out how to do a title. Sorry. If you care.

2009-04-16T10:06:00.000-06:00

The Oldest Carrotstick and I are in Chicago visiting my sister Competitive Kate and her Smarty Pants Husband. Kate lives right by Lake Michigan, just up the way from the Prez's Midwest White House. The O.C. is experiencing a little bit of culture shock being here. Things are very big and very busy. However, she felt right at home shopping on the Magnificent Mile yesterday. Just give her a 2 story Forever 21 or H&M and she's back in her element.

egg salad sandwiches with a twist

2009-04-10T20:59:00.015-06:00

The other day, our nephew Alex received his mission call. He wanted his family and friends there when he opened it. Needless to say, we were happy to oblige. All except the Oldest Carrotstick. She had "made plans with her friends" and being 13 and all, she couldn't quite get the concept that mission calls trump hanging with friends. In the end, she went with us, but not without being a pain in the end.

We joined the throng of people crammed into Alex's family room, all gathered there to support and celebrate the advent of such a life shaping event with him.

We held our breath as he opened the big white envelope and began to read. And then he came to part that said, "Nebraska Omaha Mission," and we all exhaled and smiled. His mom was especially relieved.

Eventually, people made their way back to their regularly scheduled lives -- except for our family and a group of Alex's close friends.

The Middle Carrotstick and the Youngest Carrotstick disappeared to play with Alex's little brothers, whilst PB&J and I visited with Alex's parents and grandparents in the front room. As we chatted, I kept expecting the Oldest Carrotstick to come in and pester me about leaving. I waited and waited. No Oldest Carrotstick. Figuring she was barricaded in a corner, texting, I went to find her and assess her irritation level.

Instead, I found her smack. dab. in. the. middle. of. Alex. and. his. friends. All boys. All 17 and older. And shockingly, she wasn't just there as an annoying little eavesdropping cousin. They were talking to her. And she was laughing.

THOSE ALMOST ADULT BOYS WERE FLIRTING WITH MY DAUGHTER!!!!!

DID THEY NOT KNOW???

All of the sudden I understood how a momma bear feels when her cub is in danger.

I was ready to:

Somehow I managed to control myself. Since then, I have come up with a devious way to deal with such issues in the future. Which brings me to todays Good Food Friday recipe, in honor of the forthcoming holiday, and the eggs I just hard boiled for said holiday.

I call this:

Hungry Boys Easter Egg Salad Sandwiches

Here's the general recipe. Warning: I'll include my special Hungry Boys Variation at the end.

4 slices bacon (about 4 ounces), cut ino 1/4-inch pieces
2 large shallots , chopped medium
6 large eggs
1/4 cup mayo
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley leaves
1/4 cup watercress , leaves chopped coarse
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons lemon juice
ground black pepper

Instructions:

1. In medium skillet over medium heat, fry bacon until brown and crisp, about 5 minutes. Transfer bacon with slotted spoon to plate lined with paper towel; pour off all but 1 tablespoon of fat from pan. Add shallots and sauté until softened and browned, about 5 minutes.

2. Place eggs in medium saucepan, cover with 1 inch of water, and bring to boil over high heat. Remove pan from heat, cover, and let sit for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, fill a medium bowl with 1 quart water and 1 tray of ice cubes (or equivalent). Transfer eggs to ice water bath with slotted spoon; let sit 5 minutes, peel and dice medium.

3. Mix all ingredients, including bacon and shallots, together in medium bowl, including pepper to taste. Serve. (Can be covered and refrigerated overnight.)

Hungry Hormonal Adolescent Boys Flirting With My Very Young Daughter Variation:

After mixing all the ingredients together, place bowl in warm sunny location for a day or two. Then use to make sandwiches to serve to any boys who are giving the Oldest Carrotstick a little too much attention.

JUST KIDDING!!!! I don't really mean it. Well, maybe a little. But I would never do it, because leaving eggs in a warm sunny place is a breeding ground for bacteria and that could give you (or any flirtatious teenage boy) food poisoning. DO NOT DO IT!!! IT IS DANGEROUS! And bad for you.

A good Lunch Lady would never advocate or do such a thing.

But just in case:

Dear Alex,

Keep your friends away from the Oldest Carrotstick.

Oh, and have a great mission! We are so proud of you!

Love,

Aunt Lunch Lady

Happy Easter!

Happy fresh, refrigerated Egg Salad!

huh?

2009-04-08T22:06:00.033-06:00

Dyslexic SIgn
Originally uploaded by The Other Dan

Yesterday, a bedazzled twentysomething salesgirl was trying to help me order something for the house.

She had to write down all my important information in triplicate. I watched her write, peering over her shoulder, waiting for her to stumble over the spelling of my name. I pretty much expect everyone to mis-spell my name -- as everyone with a non-traditionally spelt name does by the time they are 400 years old, like myself. True, I could just spell it upfront, but I don't. I always wait to see if, by some chance, some freak roll of the dice, someone will get it right.

They seldom do. She was no different. There were neither flashing lights nor the electronically enhanced rapidfire ching-ching-ching-ing of nickels falling out of the slot machine, as she botched the spelling of my name and I, swallowing the "Jackpot!" waiting at the tip of my tongue, proffered the correction instead.

She moved on to the next blank on the form. "What's your phone number?" she asked, pen poised.

With the watchful eye of a bankrupt gambler, I dictated, "8 - 0 - 1 . . ." She wrote "801." So far, so good.

I continued, "4 . . ."

She wrote "7."

Slightly louder, I repeated, "Four . . ."

With a quick, slightly flustered, laugh she scribbled out the seven and wrote "4" instead.

Nodding, I continued slowly, "6 - 3, " and paused. She was keeping up. Feeling encouraged, I was ready to lay down all my cards: a straight flush.

I played my hand. "5467," I said.

She wrote: "4-5-7-6."

"Uh," I said, "It's 5-4-6-7."

"Oh! Whoops!" she exclaimed, with embarrassed smile and an apologetic shrug of her showgirl shoulders, "I must be a little anorexic when it comes to numbers!"

Bingo.

2009-04-04T19:10:00.003-06:00

This was a total experiment to see if I could post blog fodder from my phone in a different way that I have done it before. I am so excited that it worked!!! I am technologically challenged, so I am grateful for any little breakthroughs that I make.

This is a picture from the Littlest Carrotstick's birthday dinner. He chose this restaraunt solely for that number 7 pizza.

c@belas

2009-04-04T13:29:00.003-06:00

----------
Sent from my Verizon Wireless mobile phone

Greetings from my personal manifestation of he11.

This message was sent using the Picture and Video Messaging service from Verizon Wireless!

your questions, final installment

2009-04-03T11:45:00.009-06:00

People!!!!

Are you crazy? Asking me for parenting advice?

Do you not remember this -- the whole your-kid-breaks-his-finger-and-you-never-treat-him- for-it incident????

It's like hiring the lol cats to teach your kid to spell.

But since you asked, I can haz answerz. And I'll even throw in a recipe at the end.

I will try to refrain from supplementing each answer with a lol catz picture. You can thank me for that later.

And now, my Dr. Spock's two cents worth.

Get out your notebooks and prepare yourself to take copious amounts of notes to review at your pleasure.

*Ahem*

Are you ready?

Question #1 from Bonnie: "okay, here's my question: how do i get my baby to sleep through the night?"

Seconded by Kellie: "Well right now as I am trying to ignore my screaming baby who doesn't want to go back to be I am think of the same question as bonnie jack."

Bonnie and Kellie, are you ready for this?

Here it is, everything I know about getting babies to sleep through the night:
Did you get that?

Listen carefully, and I'll tell you again:What? You only heard crickets?

Ahh. That explains it. All I can say, is good luck. And don't be afraid to let them cry. And maybe a warm bath before bedtime will help. Either for you or for the baby. Baths used to wear my babies out. Other than that, I recommend you read here for more information.

Kellie also asked: "what is a good way to get my boys to eat breakfast, lunch or dinner when we are eating those meals?"

Kellie, a sure-fire way to help your cute boys eat is to feed them only candy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But really, who's to say when breakfast is? In the lunchroom, we love to have waffles for dinner -- but usually only when PB&J is out of town. He's old-fashioned that way. Not quite what you were hoping for, I know. And I'm sorry. But good luck with that!

And finally, The Daily Family implores:

"Please, please tell me what is the secret I have missed to successful potty-training??(since we're talking about potties and questions, that is)"

Here in the Lunchroom, potty training never really worked until my kids were 2 1/2. After that, everything came out ok. I tried it earlier than that with the Oldest (when I was still ambitious and full of dreams) but 2 1/2 seemed to be the magic age in our family. I don't know why.

So there you go. A whole bunch of completely unsatisfactory answers to the hardest job on earth.

I just hope and pray everything will work out ok and my kids won't be totally messed up when they are grown.

Please join me in a moment of silence.
For the children.

And the mothers.

Thank you.

And now, to reward you for your good behavior, here's a crazy recipe from the Pioneer Woman that my blog friend Allyson pointed me to. Apple Dumplings made magical through a can of Mountain Dew.

Speaking of caffeine, I was in a store yesterday that had a sign up that read:

"Unattended children will be given a Red Bull and a free puppy."

If that's not a threat . . .

Anyway, back to the recipe. Yes, you read that right. Mountain Dew. Now, I am not a connoisseur of Mountain Dew, but I am willing to give this a try, just because I like a good miracle. And if these are half as good as Allyson says, I think they would rate as a miracle in my book.

Have a look at the recipe:

Pioneer Woman's Apple Dumplings

2 Granny Smith apples
2 cans crescent rolls
2 sticks butter
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 teaspoons vanilla
cinnamon
1 small can Mountain Dew

Peel and core apples. Cut apples into 8 slices each. Roll each apple slice in a crescent roll. Place in a 9 x 13 buttered pan. Melt butter, then add sugar and barely stir. Add vanilla, stir, and pour over apples. Pour Mountain Dew around the edges of the pan. Sprinkle with cinnamon and bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes. Serve with ice cream, and spoon some of the sweet sauces from the pan over the top.

And here's the link, so you can admire Pioneer Woman's photography.

Enjoy!

And enjoy the challenges of being a mom. I wish I was more help. I really do.

Have a great Good Food Friday!

meadow picture by dr3wie

cricket picture by benM135
see more Lolcats and funny pictures

good food friday????

2009-03-27T12:22:00.011-06:00

Happy Good Food Friday!!

I apologize for the posting hiatus. I just haven't felt very inspired lately. Especially when it comes to food. I love food. And food loves me. It comes to visit and then decides to stay forever. It makes me sad. And mad. So I've been boycotting my love for food, by not posting or saying anything good about food, but to no avail.

So, Good Food Friday and I are back! Hurray!

Since some of you asked questions about food, I thought today would be an appropriate day to answer them.

Let us begin.

Allyson asked: "Okay, where do you find your recipes? You always have such fun ones - do you have a favorite book/books, websites, etc"

Allyson, I blame all of this on these two people:

My dear ol' Mom and Dad (no they are not about to be abducted by aliens in a giant silver UFO. It's some crazy place in Chicago. I'll tell you all about it next month.)

A long time ago my Mom and Dad were almost hippies. They lived in a hippie college town (Corvallis, OR). They were part of a communal garden project. They cooked with tofu. They frequented odd smelling health food stores. They grew their own sprouts in little plastic cages. They even grew their own yogurt.

Then they grew out of their hippie phase and decided to master the fine art of Chinese Food. They bought woks. They bought cleavers. They bought cookbooks. They came, they saw, they cooked chinese. Food. Not people.

The point is, my mom and dad aren't afraid to try new things -- even though, as kids, we sometimes were.

As a result, I like to read cookbooks and cooking magazines, and even the occasional cooking blog. And I subject my family to the recipes that sound most intriguing. Some successful, some not so much. If you ever want to watch PB&J turn green and start to dry heave -- just say "Huevos Rancheros."

"We take no prisoners."

As I've mentioned before, I like Cooks Illustrated, Bake or Break, Bakerella, Pioneer Woman (try the cheesy olive bread) and I have a huge collection of mostly untried recipes that I've ripped out of magazines.

Kate asked: "What is your favorite dessert? And when you need a quick sweet fix, what do you head for? (ie, chocolate chips, peanut butter, nutella, you get the picture)."

Kate, the truth is, I love all desserts. Just like I love all my sisters. I don't believe in having favorites. And I suffer with indecision issues.

But, my favorite sweet fix these days involves taking a scoop of Nutella, microwaving it for a few seconds while I wash and slice up a couple of strawberries, and then snarfing down strawberry slices coated with nutella as fast as I can before the kids catch me and want me to share.

Amy asked: "So my real question, where do you come up with all your fun posts? Specifically the pictures, recipes etc."

Amy, I am just honored that you think some of my posts are fun. I do love to take a gander at the crazy pictures people post on Flickr. Give it a try! It's a great way to waste time!

See, I just found this picture of Flickr and now I am dying to try kiwi with nutella!

Melanie asked: "You always have such great recipes. What's your all time favorite meal? Not necessarily one that you make - doesn't food taste better when someone else makes it anyway?"

A-men to that Melanie! (Although nothing makes me crankier than going to a restaraunt and paying good money for food I can make better.) Anyway. Though I don't believe in favorites, I would say my favorite meal would be a Thanksgiving mutation -- except with steak instead of turkey -- and it wouldn't be complete without the green bean casserole, cranberries (oh, but then you need the turkey), yams, homemade rolls, butter, homemade jam, and at least 5 pies (apple, pumpkin, pecan, lemon meringue, AND cherry) and possibly bread pudding to boot. Have I ever told you I heart carbs?

I do.

And last, but not least, Shem asked: "What is your favorite local restaurant? (local counts the county north of us)"

Right now, Shem, I would have to say I love The Cheesecake Factory. I am totally in love with their Bang Bang Chicken. And I have a hard time tryinganything else, when I get to go there so infrequently. I found a knock-off recipe for Bang Bang Chicken here, and it is pretty darn good. Just don't look at the calorie info at the bottom. It only depressed me. I try to justify it by not eating the rice. I hope it works.

And now, so-as not to let you down, I am going to share with you a long time Lunchroom standby for my official Good Food Friday recipe. My sister Farm Girl already blogged about this, so I will just refer you to her blog if you are looking for some entertainment. Anyway. This recipe for "Oatmeal Glop" was created by me and my sibs back when we were starving hungry kids, waiting impatiently from our Mom and Dad to come back from Area 54 or the grocery store -- wherever they were hiding from us. But I don't recommend you try it. I am just trying to keep things real.

As an extra bonus Farm Girl also included a recipe for Toaster Gross, created by her husband in college.

I REALLY don't recommend you try that.

nutella picture by Hoobygroovy
huevos picture by mag3737

picture of my parents stolen from Kate.

I apologize in advance for this post

2009-03-20T21:19:00.017-06:00

I saw this picture on one of my favorite blogs today.

It is quite a famous picture entitled "Primavera" by Botticelli.

Quick, without clicking on the link, was Botticelli a man or a woman?

There is a dead giveaway hidden in this picture -- and it doesn't have anything to do with the abundance of scantily clad women either.

Can you tell what it is?

Need a hint?
There you go. Botticelli was a man. Because a woman would never have painted a man in a toga wearing his "warrior" boots and tube socks.

Just like my "performance toilet." It can only have been marketed by a man, as Cheree postulated: "You know it was a man that came up with the name of the "Performance Toilet" and not just a performance toilet but the global leader."

I would guess the Marketing Mastermind behind the Performance Toilet might have had this kind of performance in mind:

Or possibly the Ad Exec was dreaming of the "Man's Bathroom" as Allyson speculated: "When I read the words "performance toilet" I had a flashback to an OLD "Home Improvement" episode. You know, the show with Tim Allen as an almost mentally handicapped handy man. ANYWAY there was an episode where they made a "man bathroom" and there was a TV and cup holders, a mini fridge, and...the toilet reclined. Quite a performance if you ask me."

But alas, said toilet does not recline. And there is something morally and ethically wrong with having a fridge or drinks in a bathroom. Can you say "Fecal Aerosols"?

It could be that Mr. Marketing was sports minded, and was thinking of this kind of performance:

Val is also sports minded, and asked: "So, does your new toilet require a dose of Performance Enhancing Drugs on a regular basis?"

Val, I read recently that "people" shouldn't be flushing their unused prescriptions down the toilet, so, alas, our Performance Toilet will no longer "unknowingly" *wink*wink* be taking performance enhancing drugs.

From the Head Nurse comes the following: "I would say a toilet that performs really is something special- Can you bring it out here for our entertainment?"

And "Henry" (Henry, are you really my dad, incognito? Do you feel slightly chagrined to be asking a question about a toilet? Even though it was quite funny?)

"Henry" *cough*cough* asked: "Is a performance toilet something like performance art? Do you need a ticket to see it? Or use it?"

Alas, Henry and Head Nurse, the Performance Toilet is exclusively engaged at the Lunchroom. Though the toilet occasionally utilizes a candle -- or sometimes just a match -- in the performance of its art, it can't quite be considered atrue performance artist. The toilet performs daily, with the occasional midnight show. No tickets are necessary, and the Toilet recommends you try the Roast Beef, or even better -- the All-Bran -- and please, don't forget to tip your server.

And sadly, Amber, despite your hopes (and mine) for better performance: "Be happy you chose a performance toilet. Perhaps it will perform better than the old water saver toilets that never pump enough water through to flush much on the first try...sorry to be graphic."

The Manly Man's Global Leader in Performance Toilets is not quite man enough for this Man:

surfacing

2009-03-17T16:36:00.006-06:00

*gasp*

Finally, most of the MESS is finished, though we are still waiting for carpet for the top three stairs. Don't ask. I don't know why. If I had measured the carpet and ordered it, I might expect something like that to happen. But I didn't, and so I don't understand how a trained professional (and I use the term loosely) can make that kind of mistake.

But most things are put back where they belong (except the things that belong on the top three steps -- like carpet) and I am feeling like I am finally coming up for air.

So I thought I'd take this chance to answer a few more questions.

The Duvall Family asked:

I would like to know where I can get a cute white skirt for church...either a pencil skirt or a flowy (is that a word??) skirt.

My answer for today is look here. They are offering both a pencil skirt and flowy skirt, for your wearing pleasure. I have one much like this one, and I love it. Although I must warn you, wear a white dry-clean only skirt and you are sure to be graced with a slobbery chocolate coated kiss right on your knee. Or rump.

Kate asked:

Dear sister, who is your favorite sister?

My answer: All my sisters are my favorite. Anything beyond that, and I'm taking the Fifth.

Not the Fifth Sister, because I don't have one. But the Fifth Ammendment. Because I know my rights. And I know any other answer will just get me in trouble.

Now, I must be off to piano lessons.

Stayed tuned for more questions and answers on parenting, food, and performance toilets. I know, you can hardly wait.

happy 200th post!

2009-03-09T10:11:00.008-06:00

come on, sing it with me:

"Happy 200th post to me! Happy 200th post to me! Happy 200th post dear me, Happy 200th post to me!"

Ah, shucks! Thanks! You all are so sweet.

Yes, it's true. This is the long awaited 200th post. I would have posted earlier, but our MESS has been all consuming. Throw a birthday for the Youngest Carrotstick into the MESS and there has been absolutely no coming up for air.

But, enough about my mess. Onto your questions, and my, but they were excellent questions.

Now, while I am waiting very impatiently for the carpet layer to get here, I will try to answer a few of them.

First off, my very favorite question from Cheree:

"My question to you is how do you look so good and young? It is hard to believe that you have a teenage daughter."

Cheree, I love you. If I give you a dollar everytime I see you, will you keep asking me that? My answer: Braces. Yes, I am a nerd and I currently have braces (for 3 more cross-my-fingers months). But the braces give the illusion of youth -- because you think only teen-agers wear braces. I'm afraid it even confused our old bishop -- he must of thought I relate well to teenagers because of them -- and hence my calling in the Young Women organization. Once the braces are off, I'm sure I'll look like the dinosaur my daughter thinks I am.

Kninsa asked "What's for dinner?"

I'll tell you what I tell PB&J when he asks me that: Whatever you want to make. Or, more realistically, whatever they serve at the restaurant you want to go to.

And finally, Mom The Runner asked "How was your weekend?"

Last weekend (the weekend in question) was excellent. We went to out of town to see our niece get baptized, so that was great.

And this weekend was pretty good, but exhausting. We went to the Youngest Carrotstick's piano recital (He played well, and his piano teacher performed too and was awesome.) We went out to dinner with friends -- always a good time. Saturday, the Oldest Carrotstick and I went to a swimsuit party so she could get a new swimming suit. It took a lot of restraint, but I decided to forgo the pleasure of trying on swimming suits myself. Then we went to a Stake Youth Service Project, went snowmobiling with cousins, came home, moved everything out of the front room, tore up and replaced baseboards, and went to bed very late indeed. And then there was Daylight Savings. I hate Daylight Savings. Sunday, we made it to church just in time. Were spiritually fed. Came home. Took a nap. Had a Young Womens meeting. And went to dinner at my mom and dad's.

There. Does that answer your question in more detail than you cared to know? Thanks for asking!

Stay tuned for more answers to your questions about food, toilets and child rearing!

nerdy picture by brendan1/2

potty mouth

2009-02-27T15:56:00.006-07:00

A short post about necessary things.

'Specially written for YOU.

We are in the middle of a remodel. (If you can count getting new flooring as remodeling. If you can't count it, then we are just in the middle of a MESS.)

We are getting new flooring. Which means we have to get rid of the old flooring first. The first floors to go were the two upstairs bathrooms and the laundry room.

Such a mess. But the boys have had a fantastic time doing demolition.

Give a boy a tool and you'll keep him entertained for hours. Don't you like his choice of work clothes? PJs.

Very versatile.

They worked all day Saturday filling this bucket with staples from the underlayment. Underlayment is a fancy word for wood under a vinyl floor. In case you didn't know.
The only boy who wasn't thrilled with the demolition was the big one. PB&J is not a plumber, and he was stressed by the thought of removing and replacing the toilets.

Perhaps the task was made a little more enjoyable by a little trip to the Home Depot. We had to replace one of the toilets completely. The tank lid was cracked on the old one, and apparently you can't just buy a new tank lid, you have to get a whole new toilet.

So I sent PB&J to the Home Depot, and look what he came home with:
Yes, it's true.

A "Performance Toilet".

Which certainly has to be better than a non-performing toilet, don'tcha think?

Anyway. The moral of the story is, anything thing can be cool if it has the right name.

Which somehow leads me to my next topic,

In honor of my forthcoming

200th post!

I want show YOU how much I appreciate YOU, Gentle Reader, and so I want to answer your questions. It can be about anything: How do I like my bacon cooked? (Crispy) If you stacked Bill Gates fortune up, in dollar bills, would it be taller than the Space Needle? (Yes). Those are just some examples. I flatter myself by thinking that you have questions you want answered. So humor me, will ya, please? Ask me some questions, and I will answer them on my

200th post!

Ask me anything, and I will do my best to answer all of them. Even you lurkers can feel free to de-lurk long enough to ask me something! (I promise it won't hurt and I won't think your question is stupid.) If you don't ask me any questions, then I will be forced to soothe my ego and ask myself questions. And that could be frightening. You don't want to witness a conversation between me and myself.

Go ahead,

Ask the Lunch Lady!

And look for answers to all your life's questions coming soon to a Sack Lunch near you!

a little sum'in sum'in

2009-02-25T21:21:00.004-07:00

If you were wondering what to give me for my 200th post anniversary (which is coming up very soon),

You may want to consider this:

Very apropos, don'tcha think?

A little bird brain tole me you can get it here.

tres risque

2009-02-23T15:11:00.004-07:00

I bought the Oldest Carrotstick these shoes the other day:(Don't cringe. She has had gold shoes before and wore the heck out of them. They go with everything, don't you know. And metallic is the new neutral, naturally.)

This didn't keep me from buying them either.

But. She won't wear them.

And why won't she wear them?

Because they are

????

All I can figure is that she prefers ballet shoes that show at little cleavage. Toe cleavage.

What do you think? Should I be worried about this proclivity for showing skin? Can you show toe cleavage and still abide by the standards in For the Strength of the Youth?

Just wondering.

Not really. But I did think it was kind of funny. I don't think I have ever once given a second thought to toe cleavage. And if you are my sister Kate, you think that anything that has to do with feet is gross and disgusting.

Anyway. Have a great Monday! Live a little -- show some toe cleavage! (I won't tell!)

me and my peeps

2009-02-18T15:23:00.005-07:00

I bought my first package of Peeps of the season yesterday.

I heart Peeps -- but only the Easter ones. I just can't get behind Cr-eeps at Halloween, Snow-peeps at Christmas, or even the Stars and Str-eeps for the 4th of July. True Authentic Peeps belong only at Easter. The rest are just frauds and imposters. I don't care what the Just Born Company might say. That's my story and I'm sticking (like gooey marshmellow on toddler fingers) to it.

I do really love Peeps. And I enjoyed the whole package almost by myself. I know, some of you don't like Peeps. Or candy corn. I love both. I hope you don't think less of me.

Even if you don't care for Peeps, you're sure to enjoy the Washington Post's Peep Diorama contest. My sister, Kate, introduced me to it last year. I hope they do it again this year. It's amazing. And worth wasting your time on. Even better if you can enjoy a package of sugary soft and slightly crunchy at the same time Peeps. Here's a little something to whet your appetite. It is entitled "The PEEP Vinci Code".

Peep picture by Zeke .

Diorama by scostello2.

random bits of ran-dumb-ness

2009-02-17T16:08:00.007-07:00

My life is so inspiring, not to brag or anything.

Let me share it with you with this brillant photo essay.

Prepare to be amazed.

First,

I had a yogurt today. It was one-third full of mushy blueberries. Gross. I couldn't bring myself to eat them.

PB&J hates all yogurt. And cantelope. Just thought you should know.

I am actually making dinner today.

Chili.

Made with elk meat, courtesy of our great white hunter (I don't mean that in a racist way), because I am trying to live off the land and stuff. And use the abundance of meat in our freezer.

Be glad I'm not YOUR Lunch Lady.

While cooking, I like to wash my hands frequently (just so you know, Kellye).

However, I don't like using the Noel Vanilla soap. It is green. And slimy. And it was given to us by the parents of the Oldest Carrotstick's Mean-Girl Friend, in between bouts of mean-ness. And hence the soap feels even more slimy, because of where it came from. But I feel obligated to use it up. It's my pioneer heritage -- "use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without." Onward, Pioneers!

Yep. That's my motto.

Even though I get the heebie jeebies every time I use that soap, I will perservere!

There. I promised ran-dumb, and I delivered. Hope your day has been more inspiring than mine!

time and tide

2009-02-11T15:43:00.006-07:00

"They" say that

and

wait for no man.

The Middle Carrotstick gets it -- the whole Time thing. He hates being late. He gets so cross with me when he is not 25 minutes early for school. ("Come on, Mom!" is our weekday morning mantra. If he could drive himself to school, he would.)

Whereas, the Oldest Carrotstick is a whole 'nuther story. She has absolutely no concept of time.

We have renamed her. She is now known as Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Czech-o-Slow-Poke-ia.

Because she really, truly, thinks that Time and Tide should, and will, wait for her.

Arrgh!!!!!

Any tips for dealing with the chronometrically challenged?

i spy

2009-02-09T11:58:00.009-07:00

Hey, I have an idea . . .

Let's play a game!

Look at this picture.

It shows two walls (or planes, geometrically speaking). And the new (chiming) wall clock that PB&J got me for Christmas. It replaces the old (cheap) wall clock that we used to have that sounded like the doorbell every time it chimed (we cut the chime wire). But this clock is not e-lec-tronic. It has to be wound. By hand. With a key. And it chimes most gloriously. And it is a not-so-subtle reminder of how much time I waste doing who-knows-what in fifteen minute increments. I love it.

*sigh*

But, back to the game.

True or False:

The walls in the picture are the same color.

Think carefully. Record your answer. With a number two pencil.

And then look at the picture below.

The answer: False.

The wall in my front room is blue/gray (or grey). The wall in the hall is a very pleasing beige-y color.

This, my friends, is an illustration of what different light can do to a paint color. The first picture was taken Christmas morning, with the blinds closed, while I was admiring my clock, and noticed the strange paint anomaly.

The second picture was with the blinds open and the true paint colors shining forth.

The moral of the story: Don't buy paint on a whim. Stick the paint chip you are considering on the wall (along with a number of its closest cousins) and look at it over and over and over in all kinds of light.

Just thought you should know, since my friend Amber wanted to know. And I'm sure Kate has been dying to know what my clock looks like. (Strangely, it looks much like my mom and dad's wall clock. Just in a different wood. Who knew??)

One more paint buying tip: I always have the paint guys mix the paint up at 75%-80%. "75% of what?" you ask. Well, I don't know for sure. Is it 75% strength or value? I don't know. I do know you can start even lower and keep adding %-age-wise to it 'til it is the color you want. When I've had paint mixed it up at full strength/value/intensity/hue it always seems more than what I really wanted, and slightly less strength/value/intensity/hue always seems right. Or better. And tell the paint guy to smudge some paint on the top of the lid and then ask them to DRY it, so you can really tell what the true color will look like.

Anything else you really wanted to know?

Ask the Lunch Lady!

i heart presents

2009-02-03T10:09:00.005-07:00

Once again, I am looking out for your gift giving needs.

(remember, valentine's day is just around the corner)

and so you don't get stuck in the doghouse on the day of love and romance,

consider giving your beloved a present that really shows how you feel:

You can hold your heart in your hands by buying it here.

ch-ch-ch-changes

2009-02-02T08:23:00.001-07:00

I had to sign up my daughter for SEMINARY yesterday.

I think someone made a mistake. She can't possible be old enough for that.

I can't possibly be old enough for that.

no knead artisan bread

2009-01-30T13:06:00.006-07:00

Look at this picture of my daughter.She has always liked to dress up.

And not much has really changed now that she's 13.

Our Stake hosted a Daddy/Daughter Dinner/Dance/Date (duh -- that's a lot of d's) last night. Some of the sweet girls/women in our ward offered the Young Women the use of their old prom dresses. The Oldest Carrotstick was ready and willing to take them up on the offer. She borrowed this swishy sparkly sequiny dress of wonderment last night, so she could dress up like Cinderella going to the ball. She was pretty. And, even more importantly, she felt pretty. And witty. And bright. And a little giggly.

She and her dad had fun together. I think. But the best part of the whole night was when a high school aged girl (that she didn't know) came up to her and asked her if that was the dress she wore to prom.

"Ummm, well. No. I'm only 13." She admitted. But she loved every minute of it. She came home and told me. And then she told 153 of her closest friends.

One friend responded, "Well, it's cool when someone thinks you look like you're 17 when you're only 13. It's not so cool when you are 20 and someone thinks you look like you're 30."

What???

20 versus 30?

Looking 30 is an insult?

Well, look here, Mr. Know-It-All-Smarty-Pants-Kid-On-My-Naughty-List. 30 is NO insult. 40 isn't either.

Some things get better with age.

Like this super good, easy, impressive looking bread.

You mix up the ingredients, and then you let it sit. For like 24 hours. And it only gets better the longer it sits.

Just like me.

If you cook it too soon it would have no flavor and it would be flat and hard like a rock. So there.

Teenagers Knead to Get Real Like This No Knead Bread

3 cups all-purpose or bread flour, more for dusting

¼ teaspoon instant yeast

1¼ teaspoons salt

Cornmeal or wheat bran as needed.

1. In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 5/8 cups water, and stir until blended; dough will be shaggy and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rest at least 12 hours, preferably about 18, at warm room temperature, about 70 degrees.
2. Dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles. Lightly flour a work surface and place dough on it; sprinkle it with a little more flour and fold it over on itself once or twice. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rest about 15 minutes.
3. Using just enough flour to keep dough from sticking to work surface or to your fingers, gently and quickly shape dough into a ball. Generously coat a cotton towel (not terry cloth) with flour, wheat bran or cornmeal; put dough seam side down on towel and dust with more flour, bran or cornmeal. Cover with another cotton towel and let rise for about 2 hours. When it is ready, dough will be more than double in size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger.
4. At least a half-hour before dough is ready, heat oven to 450 degrees. Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic) in oven as it heats. When dough is ready, carefully remove pot from oven. Slide your hand under towel and turn dough over into pot, seam side up; it may look like a mess, but that is O.K. Shake pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed; it will straighten out as it bakes. Cover with lid and bake 30 minutes, then remove lid and bake another 15 to 30 minutes, until loaf is beautifully browned. Cool on a rack.
Yield: One 1½-pound loaf

Give it a try. You'll only be out some time, and you'll end up with a beautiful, chewy, crusty, super good-looking loaf that only improves with time. Again, just. like. me. Better. With. Age. But not crusty.

Kate, here's a link to the original recipe.

And here's an article for your reading enjoyment.

I think the pan is kind of important 'cause it holds the heat and that makes the nice crust happen. According to my cooking Bible, Cooks Illustrated, it said you can get a decent cast iron covered pan for about $40 at Wallie's. Mine's green. Liz got a cuter looking (red) one from Target for a little more money. Maybe you could start a fund. I'll donate.

bread picture by Peggasus

trading treats tuesday

2009-01-27T14:49:00.010-07:00

Today, for Trading Treats Tuesday . . .

Wait.

Today is opposite day.

What?

You didn't know?

Didn't you get the memo?

Well it is.

And so I can't post a treat.

But I don't want to be totally negative, 'cause that is such a downer.

So today, in honor of opposite day, is really Positively Peeved Something-Or-The-Other. No clever alliteration today, kids.

My Pet Peeve for today is Elementary School Kids Chronic Chapped Lips Syndrome.

This is the one single reason why I could never be an Elementary School teacher. But I salute all of you who can and are.

When I go to help in my kids classes, it PAINS me, I mean REALLY PAINS ME to see the poor poor kids who just keep licking and licking their lips, trying to make them feel better, and succeed in only making them worse.

For the love of your mother, your school teacher, the Lunch Lady, the crossing guard, the librarian, the garbage man, and the Schwann's guy, please please please please use chapstick. Chapstick is your friend.

Chapped lips are not.

Say no to Chap.

And Crack.

Butt, if you're a fan of Pioneer Woman, you can't say no to Chaps.

What's your Positively Peeved Pet Peeve today?

(to my more sensitive readers, I sincerely, and profusely, apologize, for this post.)

chaps picture by pioneer woman

a peaceable passing of power

2009-01-21T09:07:00.011-07:00

PB&J sometimes travels for his work.

But for the last month and a half, he has been grounded. Which means he has been at home. Well, working still (thank goodness), but at least in the same state as the rest of his family. Except when he was on vacation. Then he wasn't working. But really, he was, because there's no rest when you are a member of a family. And believe you me, I took full advantage of that fact.

While PB&J was stuck at home he:

did dishes
took out garbage
woke up kids
made breakfast
went to the grocery store
helped with homework
enforced piano practicing
made a pinewood derby car

actually, made 2 pinewood derby cars -- 'cause the Littlest Carrotstick just couldn't stand to be left out of the fun.

and,

believe it or not

he even helped make the bed.

(on more than one occasion!)

It was awesome.

Except now. Back in December, PB&J inadvertantly planned a trip to Washington D.C. for this week. By inadvertantly, I mean he didn't realize the significance of this week in history until after the trip was planned. Do you know what other somewhat significant event happened this week in The District? Besides a visit with my sister, Farm Girl, and her husband, Mr. Beaver Mountain? (Of which I am insanely jealous.) A little transfer of power? Remember that? Oh yeah. So, PB&J left on Monday, leaving the state of our union in my hands.

(As he drove through The District Monday night, talking to me on the phone, he unrolled the window of his car, and stuck his cell phone outside so I could hear the sounds of all the helicopters flying overhead. It was loud. It sounded like a scene in a movie. Weird.)

I hope things go smoother in DC than they have here where the executive branch of the family is now solely my responsibility (for a couple of days.)

I realize now I didn't appreciate PB&J's presence enough. Since he's been gone:

I haven't been able to sleep at night.

I worry about strange gasoline-like smells in the garage --- and I've even planned our escape route should my car spontaneously combust.

And then, to add insult to injury,

this morning, I pried myself out of my bed and woke the kids up, only to discover:

There was no milk in the fridge!

And no milk in the backup fridge.

The kids are threatening to impeach me.

PB&J, please come home.

We need you.

The kids need you.

The fridge needs you.

trading treats tuesday

2009-01-20T15:16:00.008-07:00

I have Pain.

No.

Not them. They aren't my pain. Usually.

I have other kinds of pain. Sometimes.

But this was my favorite:

Still that is not quite what I'm referring to. When I have pain, real Pain with a capital P, that's when I really I love my Treat for today: my large deep bathtub.

Because sometimes when you have pain, there's nothing like a nice hot tub to soak in. I think it must be kind of like being back in the womb. Warm. Surrounded by liquid. Quiet -- especially when everyone is gone to school and work.

That, and being in that womb-like environment keeps me from acting like a really baby, ie: curling up in a fetal position and sucking my thumb till I feel better.

Hurray for tubs! Hurray for family! Hurray for bread! Boo for pain.

What's your treat today? Come on, you gotta have one that's better than mine.

family planning

2009-01-14T11:28:00.008-07:00

I don't claim to be an expert in this, but I have a few words of advice.

I have thought for quite a while now that 3 years between kids is ideal. We happened into that spacing not by choice, but it has worked out ok.

Until I made this startling realization:

We will be producing Pine Wood Derby Cars for six. years. straight.

The stress.

The design.

The aerodynamics or lack thereof.

The engineering degree or lack thereof.

The anxiety.

Is it overweight?

Or underweight?

The hopes.

The trauma.

The track inspired road rage.

The car that jumps the lane.

The crushed dreams.

For both the cub scout and his dad.

And therefore, for his mom also.

All over a stupid block of wood and black plastic wheels.

Pray for us.

The pine wood derby is tomorrow at 7, so you can be specific in your prayers.

(Thankfully, our scout leaders give everyone a blue ribbon with their name and time on it. That's all. No placing. Thank goodness. But you know that the dads still keep track.)

Please, keep this in mind as you are considering the establishment of your posterity.

Thank you.

black bean soup

2009-01-09T16:27:00.007-07:00

How's My Parenting?

A Quiz

Read the short blurbs and answer the questions in essay form. Do not turn in the quiz to the Lunch Lady. Grade it and keep the answers to yourself. Thank you.

The poor Middle Carrotstick contracted a case of Strep Throat before Christmas. Thinking I was on top of my game, I got him into the doctor and on antibiotics. Yay me! And then the holidays hit. And somehow, between PB&J and I, we only managed to give him the approved dosage approximately once a day, instead of the requisite twice a day for 10 days. We did throw in a few extra days, hoping it would do the trick and wipe out that nasty bacteria.

How do you think we did?

I'll tell you. Yesterday, PB&J had to run the poor kid back to the doctor, who verified the Strep had resurged, and prescribed the idiot proof shot in the bum.

How do you think the Middle Carrotstick took that news?

I'll tell you. Badly. But lucky for him, his dad was there, and he told him to buck up and be a man (not in those words, but that was the jist of it) and get the shot. Unwilling to disappoint dear old dad, he did it.

Would he have been so obliging if the Lunch Lady had been the parent in charge?

I tell you No. If I had been there, I think he would have dug in his heels and refused to have the shot. And we would have been on to round two of nasty tasting "Medicillin".

How does the Lunch Lady feel when she sees her son walking around rubbing his still-sore bum?

I'll tell you. Bad. Poor kid. What a burden to have such distracted parents. It's a real pain in the buttocks.

So this Good Food Friday, enjoy some South of the Border goodness with

So Much Better than a Shot in the Bum Black Bean Soup

Beans:
1 lb (2 cups) dried black beans, rinsed and picked over
4 oz ham steak, trimmed of rind
2 dried bay leaves
5 c water
1/8 tsp baking soda
1 tsp table salt

Soup:
3 Tblsp olive oil
2 large onions, chopped fine (about 3 c)
1 large carrot, chopped fine (about ½ c)
3 medium celery ribs, chopped fine (about 1 c)
½ tsp table salt
5-6 medium garlic cloves, minced or pressed through garlic press (about 1 ½ Tblsp)
½ tsp red pepper flakes
1 ½ Tblsp ground cumin
6 c low-sodium chicken broth
2 Tblsp cornstarch
2 Tblsp water
2 Tblsp juice from 1 to 2 limes

Garnishes:
Lime wedges
Minced fresh cilantro leaves
Finely diced red onion
Diced avocado
Sour cream

Beans:
Place beans, ham, bay, water, and baking soda in large saucepan with tight-fitting lid. Bring to boil over medium-high heat; using large spoon, skim scum as it rises to surface. Stir in salt, reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer briskly until beans are tender, 1 1/4 to 1 ½ hours (if necessary, add another 1 cup water and continue to simmer until beans are tender); do not drain beans. Discard bay. Remove ham steak (ham steak darkens to color of beans), cut into 1/4" cubes, and set aside.

Soup:
Heat oil in large pan over medium-high heat until shimmering but not smoking; add onions, carrot, celery, and salt and cook, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are soft and lightly browned, 12 to 15 minutes. Reduce heat to medium-low and add garlic, pepper flakes, and cumin; cook, stirring constantly until fragrant, about 3 minutes. Stir in beans, beam cooking liquid, and chicken broth. Increase heat to medium-high and bring to boil, then reduce to low and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, to blend flavors, about 30 minutes.
Ladle 1 ½ c beans and 2 c liquid into food processor blender, process until smooth, and return to pot. Stir together cornstarch and water in small bowl until combined, then gradually stir about half of cornstarch mixture into soup, bring to boil over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally, to fully thicken. If soup is still thinner than desired once boiling, stir remaining cornstarch mixture to recombine and gradually stir mixture into soup; return to boil to fully thicken. Off heat, stir in lime juice and reserved ham; ladle soup into bowls and serve immediately, passing garnishes separately.

This soup is so yummy. How could it be anything but with that list of garnishes? It's all about the garnishes, I tell you. And it comes courtesy of my favorite cooking magazine Cooks Illustrated. Feel free to make and enjoy. And be glad you aren't having a shot of "Medicillin" the same consistency as this soup injected into YOUR South of the Border backcountry.

Happy Friday!

one week ago today

2009-01-07T18:03:00.005-07:00

One week ago today,

This cousin

got married

here:

This uncle:

had reconstructive surgery after the side of his face got smashed by this:Ok, not this Skidster in particular, but this is what a Skidster is (in case you, like me, didn't know) .

The mom of this friend:
had a birthday. (I know she'll be sad that I couldn't find that great Halloween picture of her as a football player to post.)

And I got a New Year's Eve smooch from this guy:

Not to brag, or anything.

How was your New Year's Eve, and how is your New Year so far?

be afraid, be very afraid

2009-01-07T15:54:00.004-07:00

The Oldest Carrotstick is worried that her name just doesn't sound good with any last name other than the one she currently holds.

So worried, in fact, that she and her friends spent good valuable learning time at school today trying out her first and middle names with the last names of various ignorantly obliging boys.

They filled up 5 columns of lined (non-college ruled) notebook paper with options, starring the ones they felt had potential.

i.e.:
Oldest Carrotstick Paxman
Oldest Carrotstick Taylor*
Oldest Carrotstick Karr
Oldest Carrotstick Nelson*

and so forth and so on.

Ahh, the many -- and varied -- benefits of public education.

trading treats tuesday

2009-01-06T15:03:00.005-07:00

Sorry, kids.

No treats from the Lunch Lady today.

I have a cold.

Which you don't want me to share.

It stinks to be sick. Or it would if I could smell anything.
And I just sneezed 6 times in a row.

I think that's a record.

Do you have a treat today?

sneeze picture by Mussels

sweet victory?

2009-01-02T22:44:00.010-07:00

My 4 year old nephew just came to tell me the Utes won a silver trophy.

"But BYU won a gold," he rationalized.

He continued:

"We like BYU.

"Cougars can beat Utes. 'Cause Cougars are mountain lions and Utes are Indians.

"We believe in the power of the cougar.

"Utes believe in the power of grass.

"But Jesus has all the power.

"And Man has the priesthood," he concluded.

so there.

----------
Sent from my Verizon Wireless mobile phone

trading treats tuesday

2008-12-30T13:03:00.006-07:00

Sorry about the bloggy silence this last week. I've been in a holiday induced stupor.

And that's my treat today: the Holidays!

PB&J is taking some time off. It's so nice to have him around without his Blackberry in his hands.

We have been getting our fair share of electronica in, however.
The other night, PB&J and I were out for dinner with friends. And suddenly I noticed I was paying attention to the background music and I was thinking to myself, "Yellow, yellow, yellow, green, yellow, green, orange, pedal, blue." Guitar Hero has been going non-stop for days now. There are few things quite as amusing as your little sweet, innocent, six-year-old singing Bon Jovi at the top of his lungs. However, PB&J and I will be glad when they get a little better at GH and we don't have to keep hearing Eye of the Tiger over and over and over.

The Christmas carnage isn't just limited to the soundwaves. It's everywhere.

The kitchen table is supporting all kinds of wildlife.
And Indian Jones Legos have taken over the floor in the Middle Carrotstick's room.
We haven't even started on the puzzles.

Luckily the good doctor didn't have a difficult time piecing together this: 7 stitches on the Littlest Carrotstick's cheek from a pre-snowmobiling slip on the ice.

Remember, it's all fun and games until somebody pokes out an eye -- or gets the side of his face smashed. Just ask PB&J's brother.

Love the Holidays. I don't think we'll ever be the same.

Hope your Holidays were as ~~grueling~~ enjoyable!

What's your treat today?

merry christmas!

2008-12-24T12:59:00.010-07:00

From all of us in the Lunch Room!

(this is my actual Christmas card, hand crafted by me and dear old Photoshop. But I feel like I should have put a disclaimer on the back: I did not cheat! This was really made by me!, 'cause I usually send out totally handmade cards to everyone. To help me feel better about myself, I stuck some ribbon and a brad on it.

To top it all off, I have even more angst 'cause I sent one to my brother and he's a Pixar wunderkind (yes, the real Pixar), and I know he would just pat me on the head and say "well, that's interesting . . . " if he were here and not in California.

But just know, I am sending it to YOU with all the love and good will in my heart. And that's all that matters, right?)

Merry Christmas!

I hope all your Christmas dreams come true!

(you know, peace on earth, good will to men -- that kind of stuff.

Not the new puppy, or the Corvette.

Remember, Christmas isn't about the stuff, it's about the Gift.)

trading treats tuesday

2008-12-23T13:20:00.006-07:00

(on Tuesday, even!)

Dear Family,

I am sad that you are so far away.

You have missed out on all our fun traditional Christmas-time events. Especially the extended family parties, with no less than 113 of your closest relatives. Literally.

This one was significant because all my kids decided they are too old and mature to participate in the traditional Nativity. They wouldn't even be sheep this year. Sad.

But especially sad because You Were Missed.

And because I am missing you so much, you are my treat this Trading Treats Tuesday: La Familia! (it's more important sounding if you say it in a foreign language, but really, is spanish even a foreign language anymore? it's possible it's the U.S.of A.'s official second language.)

But, because I'm always looking out for you, and I don't want you to feel too homesick, here's a special part of Christmas that I know you've been missing:

Great-Grandma's robotronic story-telling Santa.

I pulled it out of storage just to make this video for you. (My kids didn't even know we had one. It's been lurking in the basement for about 5 years now. She gave it to us when she got tired of it. And I feel too guilty to give it to D.I. At least we didn't get the singing snowmen, too.)

Make sure you wait till the end to hear the best part -- "Ho ho ho, I love that story. . . . Let's read another one." It gets the little kids every. single. time. You HAVE to do what Santa says.

What's your treat today?

(And if you're related to me, it'd better be your super awesome oldest (and wisest) sister.)

iPillow

2008-12-23T09:43:00.004-07:00

I'm feeling really ambitious. I am hoping to post TWO whole posts today! I know, hard to believe. I'm trying to make up for my slackerdom.

So, with Christmas just around the corner, here's one more great gift iDea for you. As you know, Apple has the cool gifts to give this year. In tribute to all things "i", presenting:

the very low tech iPillow.

Just please don't put one under my tree. The mere sight of those charts gives me ANXiETY.

iSpy-ed it here.

texting, one, two, three

2008-12-18T22:59:00.011-07:00

Yesterday the Oldest Carrotstick was having a text conversation with her friend Michael Karr. Remember -- she always refers to all her friends by both their first and last names. I suppose that is better than when she called two of her friends "Brandon Three" and "Brandon Four." Oh, whoops. I must recant. She calls most of her friends by their full names, except Michael Karr's two BFFs. Those she calls The Followers or The Clones. Makes me think of Draco Malfoy and his two sidekicks. For some reason, they don't much care for those names. I can't imagine why.

Anyway. Back to the story. The Oldest Carrotstick and Michael Karr were texting. And it went something like this:

OC: Hey!

MK: Hey!

OC: Guess who we just saw

MK: I give up

OC: ur sister at Arby's

MK: O

OC: U look like her

MK: So ur saying I look like a girl?

OC: No

MK: Yah

OC: No

MK: Yah

(very interesting texts, right?)

OC: I think its cool u look like ur sister. I dont look like anyone in my family

MK: U look like ur mom

(stunned silence)

OC: do not

MK: do too

OC: do not

MK: do too

OC: so ur saying u think my mom is hott?

(stunned silence)

MK: no

OC: yah

MK: NO

OC: Yah!

MK: so ur saying I look like a girl?

And then I took the phone away, 'cause the Oldest Carrotstick was laughing hysterically, and I had to know why.

I used to like that Michael Karr kid.

trading treats tuewednesday (again)

2008-12-17T14:28:00.007-07:00

Ok. So I'm late on my post, again.

But I do have my neighbor gifts all assembled (sorry Kellye -- you're still getting one!) and my Christmas card and Christmas packages are, after waiting in line at the post office for 40 minutes, all in route. (Hurray!)

But that's not what I'm celebrating this week.

Today's Trading Treats TueWednesday is: Snow!

For weeks now the only snow I've had to enjoy was this:
This is my version of a Frozen Charlotte. What? You don't know what a Frozen Charlotte is? No, it's not some obscure band. Ok, well maybe. And no, it's not a drink or an ice cream treat. Read about it here, if you want.

But now we have this:
And I'm so glad. I would really like a White Christmas, to cover up all the yard ugliness.

And speaking of White Christmas, have you watched it yet this year? We did. On Sunday. And it was just like the good old days.

Not that I was around when White Christmas was made. My parents weren't even alive to have eyes for me to be a glimmer in. But I do have a soft spot for old movies -- especially in black and white. And if you've never seen Holiday Inn, might I recommend it to you?

My, but it's yar.

What's your treat today?

on golden chair

2008-12-15T16:17:00.028-07:00

Once upon a time, there was a family with a mother who specialized in hare-brained ideas. One day, that mother was visiting the local Deseret Industries. And she found a wonderful vintage gold velour easy chair. It was SWEET! It swivelled and ROCKED (in both ways). But the mother didn’t buy it. It was ridiculous and there was no place in her house for it.

Time passed -- a week or so. The mother kept thinking about that chair. She also thought about Christmas and Christmas Cards. She visited a number of cool photography blogs. All of the sudden, she knew! She had to have that chair so she could have the coolest Christmas Card Picture EVER of her children. But she worried, in her heart, that fate would be against her, and that the gold velour chair would be gone -- as is the way with many things at the D.I.

With bated breath, she ventured back to D.I., dreading the harsh reality she was sure to find in the Large As-Is Furniture Aisle.

When, lo, what did she behold! The chair was still there! It was a sign. She had to have it. Quickly she caught the eye of a nearby Associate, secured a Sold sticker and arranged to pick it up later that evening -- just as a bevy of college-aged girls were eyeing it for their own.

It was fortunate, that at that time, the father of the family was away on his big hunt -- because the mother knew that the father would surely disapprove of the purchase of the chair. Unfortunately, along with his absence, came the absence of the truck which would have been ideal for hauling the chair home.

But the mother had a back up plan. You see, they were a family with too many cars. Yes, it’s true. They had more cars than they had drivers.

But each car had a special purpose and place in the family’s heart.

Take, for example, the mini-van (a relic from the days when the family thought they would have a large family – well, not an Full Sized Econo-van family, but a large-ish family.) But the years passed, the van was paid off, and the family finally realized they were really only a sedan sized family after all. And so it was that the family decided it was time to give up the dream -- and the perfect carpool vehicle – and sell it, so it could bless the lives of some other minivan-sized family.

With that in mind, the family did not renew the minivans registration when it expired in June.

A month passed, they had put off listing the van, and the mother of the family got a new church calling which would require hauling around large groups of giggling girls. The family reconsidered selling the minivan and kept it instead. But they forgot the expired registration.

And the oblivious mother took said van to D.I. and gleefully shoved the coveted chair into the backseat of the minivan.

As she drove home, still euphoric from the find, she chanced to notice flashing lights in her rearview mirror. With a pit in her stomach, she pulled over.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" The cop asked, bating her.

Was she speeding? Had she neglected to signal? These questions flew through her mind. Instead she responded, falteringly, "No?"

"Do you realize your van’s registration expired THREE MONTHS ago? And that I can legally impound your vehicle?"

"No . . ." she said. But in her heart, the mother was protesting: "Come on!?!! Really??!! Don't you have anything better to do!!?!"

And so it was that the mother of the family, with spirits quite deflated, received a ticket and a summons to appear in court.

Suddenly that chair didn’t seem so golden anymore.

Thus the final cost of procuring the perfect chair for the perfect Christmas card picture became:

$25 chair
$35 safety and emissions
$120 registration

$10 on the spot registration fee, so I could avoid driving around any more than necessary with my illegal vehicle
$35 non-moving violation ticket
Ok - that’s $225, not $210 like I originally said.

The end.

And then there's the crazed old farmer that chased me, PB&J, and the kids off his property with a . . .

But that's a story for another day.

Ok, Kellye, what’s the story behind the most expensive frozen yogurt of all time?

i spy . . .

2008-12-15T05:53:00.003-07:00

It's Monday, once again.

How's your Christmas shopping going?

Mine stinks. My friend had all her shopping done in October. OCTOBER! I am insanely jealous. But I will never have it that together, I'm afraid.

If you, like me, are stuck for eye-deas . . .

here's a little something I've had my EYE on.

(It's a Christmas tree ornament.)

You can get it

here, along with this: special (and versatile) little number.

Shocking, isn't it?

Just remember, this Christmas, I've got your back.

priceless?

2008-12-14T11:01:00.011-07:00

Oh, Photoshop, how I love you. You are worth your weight in gold.

I've been working on the Christmas Card this week.

Here are the two pictures I've been using Photoshop to mess around with.

Can you tell I had to get rid of a giant weed in front of the Oldest Carrotstick? I hope not.

Some day I'll tell you about the multiple run-ins with the Law and other authorities I had while trying to get these pictures. And how before it was done my $25 D.I. chair ended up costing me about $210.00.

And I'm not kidding.

They say a pictures is worth a million words. What do you think? It better be worth $210.

Which picture would you choose?

for nicki dear

2008-12-12T20:36:00.002-07:00

Nicki,

Here is the recipe you requested. Now remember, it is a secret recipe. Don't tell anyone!

Supernatural Brownies

16 tablespoons butter
8 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, cut into 1/4-inch pieces
4 large eggs
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup sugar
1 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 cups chopped nuts (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Bring a saucepan of water to a boil. Turn off heat. Set a heatproof bowl over water, and put butter and chocolate in bowl. Melt, stirring occasionally. In a separate bowl, whisk eggs. Add salt, sugars, and vanilla. Stir in chocolate and butter mixture. Fold in flour and nuts. Pour batter into a 9x13 pan that has been buttered/sprayed. (The recipe also suggests lining the pan with buttered parchment or foil.) Spread batter evenly in pan. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes.

The top will form a shiny crust and the batter will be moderately firm. And you have to spend the money on the good chocolate, or it's just not the same.

Happy Baking!

brownie peanut butter cups

2008-12-12T15:21:00.009-07:00

I know.

You've been in a dither all week, wondering how the progressive dinner went and what I made for dessert.

Let me just tell you, I availed myself of the opportunity to try a bunch of recipes from one of my favorite food porn blogs -- Bake or Break, and I baked.

And baked.

I used:

2 whole pounds of butter

18 eggs

and 11 ounces of cream cheese

And a bunch of flour and sugar, that sort of thing.

Knowing that, you know it had to be good -- in a very Paula Dean way, ya'll.

The one bad part?

I put one of the desserts (Vanilla Bean Cheesecake Squares) in my fridge downstairs and forgot about it.

And then I was going to take them to my Book Group Brunch today, and I forgot them again.

Either they don't think they want to be eaten, or it's a sign that they are horrible.

Anyway, here is the official dessert menu:

Vanilla Bean Cheesecake Squares (almost)

White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Blonde Brownies (only so-so)

Supernatural Brownies (so ultra yummy)

Raspberry Almond Tarts (ugly, but yummo -- even though my nephew said they tasted like Pop-Tarts. He can't help it. His Dad lives in Ketchup infamy.)

Lemon Bread (so good)

Pear Bread (surprisingly tasty)

and last, but not least:

Brownie Peanut Butter Cups (amazingly good, and impressive looking).

If my brother-in-law Bill were here, he would have taken a picture of the line-up. But he wasn't, and I forgot. (Bill is studying to be an attorney, but really he should be a food photographer. I think it is his calling in life.)

Here's the recipe for Good Food Friday:

Amaze Your Guests With Brownie Peanut Butter Cups

3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 tablespoon water
3/4 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 large egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 cup peanut butter chips plus about 1/3 cup more for garnishing
1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips plus about 1/3 cup more for garnishing
3/4 cup creamy peanut butter

Preheat oven to 350 . Spray or grease 12 muffin cups.
In a large microwave-safe bowl, combine sugar, butter, and water. Microwave on high for 1 minute or until butter is melted. Stir in 3/4 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips until melted. Stir in egg and vanilla extract. Add flour and baking soda, stirring until blended. Allow to cool to room temperature. Then, stir in 1/2 cup each peanut butter chips and semi-sweet chocolate chips. Spoon batter by heaping tablespoonfuls into muffin cups.
Bake for 13-15 minutes or until top is set and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out slightly wet. Place pan on wire rack. Centers of brownies will fall upon cooling. If not, tap centers with the back of a teaspoon to make a hole.
Place peanut butter in a small microwave-safe bowl. Microwave on high for 45 seconds, then stir. While brownies are still hot, spoon about a tablespoon of peanut butter into the center of each brownie. Top with semi-sweet chocolate chips and peanut butter chips. Cool completely in pan.

As I said, these look cool, but are surprisingly easy. And very rich and delicious. At least three of my nieces/nephews hid some of these in napkins and took them home with them.

And Jeanne, I would love you to share your yummy dessert with me! Please!

brownie picture by bake or break

trading treats tuewednesday

2008-12-10T21:11:00.006-07:00

Yes I know. This is late. But I am having problems getting everything done.

My treat today: Old, but Good, Friends.

My good friend moved to Seattle several years ago. But right this second she is in Utah, and today she stopped by the house to say hi.

It was so great to see her. And I'm not just saying that 'cause she reads my blog. 'Cause she doesn't.

Visiting with her tonight was just like it was when she lived two houses away from me. It's nice to have friends like that -- where you can just pick up where you left off.

And she was very polite and listened to all three kids plunk away on the piano.

And,

And . . .

She brought me yard waste for my front porch decorations!

Yard Waste? you ask.

Yes, yard waste. At least that's what people in Seattle have the audacity to call holly. 'Cause holly is just another shrub in Seattle. But here in the desert, it's a joyful holiday decoration.

Go ahead, you can sing it: "the holly and the ivy . . ." That is, if you know the words. Which I don't.

But, behold, my rusty red wagon:

Joyful, indeed!

And triumphant!

What's your treat today?

incognito

2008-12-07T06:09:00.001-07:00

once again, I'm looking out for you and the person-who-has-everything on your gift list.

how about this special little number:

for those times when you're feel especially wicked (not that I'm saying you're wicked, it just that sometimes, I know I have been known to laugh my evil laugh, and I'm always wishing I had a moustache to twirl at those moments and I'm just assuming other people feel the same. sometimes. but maybe I'm wrong. In that case see option #2.)

when you need to throw the paparazzi off your trail so you can grocery shop in peace.

perhaps you might just need a disguise.

secret agents might find it here.

lumps of coal

2008-12-05T15:38:00.008-07:00

This weekend PB&J's family is having a progressive dinner. We are the dessert -- 'cause we're sweet like that. But what should I serve? Do you have any suggestions? I'd love some input. You know my anxiety with serving food to others. . .

Anyway, though the food is the most important part, I have been working like mad trying to get all 10 of those bins emptied, so we don't look like Scrooges to the rest of the family. I finally got the last Christmas tree decorated yesterday.

Wanna see?

Here it is:

This is the tree in our little playhouse under the stairs.

Have I ever told you how much I love pom-poms?? And why is it that sticking a little tree in an urn makes it so much cuter?

What?

What's that?

You want to know why I went to the trouble to hang stockings on the mantel and decorate a tree for a playhouse that my kids don't play in anymore because they are too old for that sort of stuff?

Well.

I'll have you know . . .

Ummm . . .

That playhouse is an important part of . . .

It's a scientific fact that playtime is a . . .

Yeah.

So what if the boys never played in it and the Oldest Carrotstick is 13. I did it 'cause I wanted to. So there.

And just for your impertinence on Good Food Friday, you can have this:

Sassing the Lunch Lady Is Naughty (not Nice) Lumps of Coal

1 cup whipping cream

2 cups marshmallows

2/3 cup mint candy canes

1/4 c nuts (chopped)

2 cups Oreo cookie crumbs

Whip cream to stiff peaks. Mince marshmallows and candy canes in food processor or chop very fine. Fold marshmallows, candy cane, and nuts into whipped cream. Cover and freeze until mixture is firm. Scoop out balls and roll in cookie crumbs. Return to freezer until ready to serve.

Please, leave me your yummy dessert suggestions!!!

trading treats tuesday

2008-12-02T12:03:00.003-07:00

This is what my house looks like right now:

and:

This is when the holidays really come together.

The Thanksgiving dishes aren't quite put away.

And I have already drug out 10 bins of Christmas stuff.

Does that frighten you?

It kind of scares me.

And are you more worried that I am blogging instead of putting away my fabulous turkey dishes?

Take consolation in the fact that I am waiting for the kids to get home from school to decorate the tree.

And they decorated the trees in their rooms last night and I haven't rearranged a single ornament.

Yet.

I love the holidays!

And my piano is being tuned even as we speak and that fills me with joy. No more waking up to off-tune practicing!

What's your treat today?

garden of eatin'

2008-12-01T21:21:00.010-07:00

because we are now officially counting down the days until Christmas,

I thought I'd share a little gift idea with you for those hard-to-shop-for-people.

For the person who has everything,

Introducing:

The Apple Cozy.

Tempting, isn't it?

Partake here.

You can thank me later.

premium!

2008-11-26T11:42:00.006-07:00

a post in which I waste your time talking about nonsense and referencing an obscure movie where El!jah Wood does not have hairy feet.

Last Tuesday night, as we sat on the runaway in Atlanta on our way back to the Lunchroom,

the pilot got on the PA system to give a little pilot-y information and update.

As he spoke, he had a slight accent. A slight Russian accent.

Ok. Maybe not slight.

Perhaps it would really be considered quite strong.

PB&J started laughing.

He looked at me and asked "Can this guy be for real?"

He sounded just like the Russian guy in this movie:

(it's a short clip. I promise. -- like 46 seconds -- but you have to wait til the end to hear the Russian.)

And the rest of the flight, whenever the pilot spoke, you could also hear PB&J laughing.

It was premium.

trading treats tuesday

2008-11-25T15:38:00.006-07:00

In a very unoriginal post, this Trading Treats Tuesday,

I am celebrating:

Thanksgiving Feast Favorites!!!!

That's my treat. I love all the traditional foods you get to eat at Thanksgiving. And I can't pick just one thing. Everything we're having is my favorite. Well, maybe turkey's not really my favorite, but it's Tradition!

(say it with me and Tevya:

Tradition!)

And that happy, too-full, dying to take a nap and ignore the kitchen full of dirty dishes feeling!

Hurray for Thanksgiving!!!!

This Trading Treats Tuesday, tell me what one food you are looking forward to the most.

One of my friends confessed that her favorite was her dad's made from scratch fake mashed potatoes.

Love it!

So, what's your favorite Thanksgiving food/treat?

"full" picture by itsthinking

gotta get me some cranberry sauce

2008-11-24T07:12:00.006-07:00

For a little Thanksgiving Fun, click here.

fruit elixir water

2008-11-21T18:10:00.007-07:00

After returning from our trip to Florida I was a little hesitant to see what effect vacationing had had on my waistline.

With great reluctance I forced myself on the scale.

And the scale, bless its little heart, met my request with equal reluctance.

"Umm . . . ," the scale began,

"Well, . . . yah . . . " it hemmed and hawed

"Hey! It's great to see you! Did you have a good trip?" it said, stalling, trying to delay revealing it's secret.

But I pressed on,

That's right. It said "Err, ummmm, we-ell, if you insist. . ."

And then it became obvious that the Disney Walk Your Feet To Bloody Stumps Exercise Plan was not enough to combat the Theme-Park Food and High-Carb Continental Breakfast Diet Plan.

So this Good Food Friday I am going to share a fabulous diet recipe with you. I call it

I Can't Believe It's Water! Magical Fruit Elixir Water

Sliced fruit:

oranges

lemons

limes

apples

pomegranates

cherries

peaches

strawberries

pineapple

mango

whole mint leaves

Water (or if you're feeling fancy, mineral water)

Place any combination or even just a single selection of sliced fruit in a pitcher, cover with water and ice. Let stand to diffuse the essence of fruit throughout the water.

Enjoy.

And repeat.

Several of the hotels we've stayed at in the past year have had different combinations of this fruit elixir water out for consumption by their guests. And I have to say, I'm a fan! I especially like the name elixir. It sounds so fancy and exotic.

If you're feeling really adventuresome, try some sliced vegetable in water -- like cucumber.

But I'd probably suggest you stay away from the broccoli. Broccoli Elixir Water just couldn't be good. No matter how much you tried.

what's up?

2008-11-19T10:42:00.004-07:00

After having spent every second of the last 5 days running around like a crazed madwoman intent on eking every last bit of fun out of our trip, I finally arrived home to my bed sweet bed this morning at 12:48 (which is 2:48 EASTERN, people).

this morning I feel like my brain is floating above my body in a balloon.

It’s a smallish balloon.

Pink.

Helium.

(Too bad my voice doesn't sound funny.)

I hope this wears off quickly.

balloon picture originally uploaded by Matt White