#2~You Should Know...

This year my Mister & I will be celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary. That in itself is quite the accomplishment, especially if you've ever had the misfortune to run into me pre-caffeinated. What's even more amazing is that we are going, kid-free, on a little get-a-way.

He had me at "kid-free".

For years we have been making plans to do something big for our silver anniversary. (It is probably no mistake that this coincides with the turning of our hair color.) Places we had pondered were; Italy, Hawaii, Canada, Costa Rica, Montana, and the Mediterranean. Once we realized that there are people at these places, and that our whole objective here is to spend some quality time alone, we nixed those ideas and decided to stay closer to home. Specifically here.

Now that we're heading to a place that requires chains and boots, I have had to expand my wardrobe a little. Here's what I think you should know...

1. If you want to find snow pants in January, you should probably have started looking in August. The pants were on clearance at Christmas, the swimsuits go on clearance on Valentine's Day. Better hurry in case you plan on swimming before winter's even over.

2. The average height of women in the U.S. is 5'foot, 4-1/2 inches. This means that there are a lot more of me (at 5'3") than there are 7 ft. tall women. That said, why in the devil would the makers of ski/snow pants make them 3 feet longer than the average-sized woman?

3. No matter what the pro-shop people tell you, you cannot tuck that extra 3 feet of snow pant into your boots...not if you plan on wearing the boots on your feet. 

4. And those same pro-shop employees do not have the average woman-sized bodies either. At least, not for this town. They should move to Aspen. Or Switzerland. Now.

5. Snow pants should not be low-cut, have embroidery on the backside, or a special cell-phone pocket on the hip. And they should never, ever, ever come in white.

6. Pro-shop people will tell you that white is flattering on all body types. Do not believe them. They were trained to lie.

7. White is not a color you want to be wearing in the event of an avalanche. I do not want to blend with the snow, I want to be found! That said, Safety Orange and Neon Pink are not flattering butt colors either. If I accidently scream something inappropriate while careening down the side of the  mountain, I don't want fingers pointing at the only girl in hot pink pants saying, "It was her!" I want to blend. Give me black.

8. Snow pants at the pro-shop only have a 6-inch clearance from crotch to waist. This means that either the gut or the butt is going in. One or the other, not both. And not without an additional 6 inches of material.

9. The sales person at Walmart understands this. And she saved a single pair of snow pants that would fit a 5'3" Oompah-Loompah like me, just right.

10. That same sales person is now in my will.

Just so you know.☺



such is life...and death

It was inevitable. She was a rebel at heart.

Never one to conform to the ways of the farm, Lucy made her own rules. You may not know this, but she was the turkey version of our own Bob Marley.

As one of our very first "girls", she quickly rose to the top of the pack...er, flock.

She was an adventurer.

And she defied the odds on more than one occasion.

Lucy reminded us that in the midst of our hard work, when nothing seems to be going according to plan, that life finds a way.

Most of the time.

After finding Lucy sitting on another clutch of eggs in the midst of the blackberry brambles, we were heartbroken to find her mauled body only a few feet away from her still (barely) warm eggs yesterday. It looked like she fought hard to protect her little clutch.

My admiration for her continues.

Some might say, "But she was only a turkey." Lucy was more than that. She was our own little mascot with an I think I can mentality.

And because of her, my vision is clear.

Hatch her babies so Lucy's legacy lives on...

... and build these...insides the coop. 

"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...."

RIP Lucy. You will be missed.

Spicy Split Pea Coconut Curry Soup

Ever have one of these days?

Lately I've been having more and more of them. Maybe I have cabin fever. Maybe I've been spending much too much time on Pinterest and am slowly losing brain cells. Maybe this is normal for someone  who is slowly descending into madness.

 

For the record, I haven't arrived at that last destination yet, the bone in the pot is a ham bone. Just in case you were wondering. It is not the leg of a Hobbit.

Promise.

One of our favorite frugal meals is split pea soup. I'm not talking about the yuck in a can either. That stuff can be compared to baby food; lacking flavor and texture, which makes it a little pointless to consume. Because dried peas are pretty bland by themselves, it's important to add flavor. The original recipe calls for light cream to be added at the end, but since we had no cream to add, I improvised.

 Then I improvised some more.

After I found a bigger pot.☺

~The Players~

5 cups chicken stock

5 cups water

1 lb. dried split peas

1 *meaty ham bone

4 Tb. unsalted butter

1 large onion, chopped

2 medium carrots, shredded

1 cup chopped celery

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 Tb. curry powder

1 t. ground coriander

1/2 t. crushed red pepper flakes

sea salt & pepper, to taste

1 can coconut milk

In a large soup pot, (and by large I mean large enough for the bone), combine the stock, water and split peas. Add the ham bone and bring to boil. Reduce heat and let simmer for about an hour.

Meanwhile, in a large skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the onions, celery, garlic, and carrots and saute until onions are translucent. Add spices and cook for 1 minute. Remove from heat.

Remove the ham bone from the peas. When cool enough to handle, remove any meat from the bone and add back to the soup. Add vegetable mixture to the peas and stir well. Simmer on low for about 20 minutes.

Using a blender or food processor, puree half the soup, 2 cups at a time until smooth. Add back to the pot. (I use an immersion blender and eyeball it.)

Pour coconut milk in to a bowl and whisk until smooth. Add to the soup and stir to mix.

Season with salt & pepper. Add more red pepper flakes if desired.

Serve hot.

Enjoy!

*Make it vegetarian by leaving out the Hobbit ham bone.

Making the Old New...then Old Again

I don't know if you're familiar with Pinterest, but I am seriously addicted. Pinterest is a website where you can "pin" favorite items, projects, books, recipes, places, etc. that pique your interest. You can pin your own ideas, but there are so many creative people out there, I just "repin" everyone else's awesome ideas. (So far...) I'm especially fond of the DIY projects.

Finally! Ideas for all of the junk we have lying around!!!

I now know how a seagull feels when it finds an open dumpster behind McDonald's.

For a seagull, that's a good thing.

For my Mister, this may not be good as I'll be double checking each load of stuff bound for the dump. Old doors, window frames, cupboard doors, broken chairs, and miscellaneous jars are no longer deemed junk here. In fact, some of that old stuff may even find a place of honor on my living room wall or hanging from a tree as a repurposed swing!

What Pinterest does is inspire. It inspires me with new ideas, but mostly it inspires me to finish all those projects that I've kind of lost a vision for.

My first project was an old toybox/bench that my mom-in-law gave me. First, I removed the hinges and the bench seat. The original color (when I got it) was tan. I covered it with an espresso (of course!) brown.

Once that was dry, I applied a coat of antique white.

After 24 hours, a third coat of paint, this time in a robin's egg blue, was added.

Once that was dry, it was time to make the new paint look old with a little sandpaper. The edges I took all the way down to the espresso brown.

A little clear varnish, and hinges that I spray painted "Hammered Black", and the old toybox was given new life.

"A chair for me!"

I told her it was a toybox.

Maddie's not convinced.☺

A Cure for the Wiggles

How do you convince an 11 yr. old that his history is more exciting than speeding down a hill (of very wet snow) on a sled? 

Turn off the lights and light the oil lamp.

And when he complains that he still can't see, light some candles too!

History may never be the same again.☺

#1~You Should Know...

While in a grocery store not too long ago, I had a person approach me asking, "Do I know you?" Now if you know me at all, you would know this caused me to panic a little. Instead of my life flashing before my eyes, I was rewinding every conversation I had ever had over the last 44 years of my life.

Well, not all 44 of them since the first couple of years were kind of a blur between bottle feedings and diaper changings.

Thankfully, while I was in my memory-induced stupor, the person continued to talk. "I'm sure I know you. Do you attend ______ church?" It was Methodist to which I assured him I didn't. (Not that I have a problem with Methodist's mind you.) "Do you work at the hospital?" I replied with a "No, but I'm a frequent flyer", followed by a nervous laugh.

"Was your dad a teacher at ______ school?"

"Did you buy a car from my neighbor, Bob?"

"Do you have a twin?"

While my eyes darted around looking for Security, and my mind was busy matching every name to every face that I had ever encountered, he continued..."Oh, I know! My wife follows your blog!"

Aha.

Then his eyes went to my grocery cart where he was taking a quick inventory of my goods. Part of me wanted to throw myself across the cart and hide my business, the other part of me wanted to deny it was my cart, and yet another part of me wanted to tell him to "Back off! I'm a woman on the edge!"

I am, but I didn't.

Instead, I politely listened as he explained how much he liked my salmon recipes (and they apparently work for steelhead too!), and then told him to pass along to his wife how much I appreciated her reading my blog. Really, it was very sweet. But it got me to thinking. Am I walking the walk, or am I just a judgemental wanna-be walker? So, I took a quick inventory of my cart too, and here's what I think you should know.

1. This has nothing to do with my cart, but it is becoming a regular "thing". Sometimes I go to town without makeup, my hair in a ponytail, old lady glasses perched on the end of my nose, and a flannel shirt that may or may not have the pockets flipping up. I am on a mission and don't have time for all that other stuff. Of course, this is when I run into a perfectly coiffed super-model from high school who not only managed to keep her girlish figure, but also knows how to work an iron. And of course, she always mentions how "tired" I look.

2. Later, when I run into this same girl with her basket full of Lean Cuisines (excuse me while I gag), I am now carting around a couple of gallons of chocolate ice cream. Yes, it is an organic ice cream, but since this treat doesn't come in gallon-sized containers, I have quite a few in there. (The good news, I also have a coupon, just in case anyone is concerned for my pocketbook.)

3. I steer the cart with my elbows. Don't judge, but with a Starbuck's in one hand and my cellphone in the other, this leaves me no other option. If my legs were longer, maybe I could learn to steer with my knees, but I'm not holding out much hope there.

4. I buy white vinegar by the case. No, I am not manufacturing drugs, nor am I pickling everything in sight. It's cheap, I use it, so I buy it.

5. If you look closely, you will probably find a couple of loaves of marked-down, white bread in my cart. And they are probably laying up against a jar of store-brand partially hydrogenated peanut butter.

Here's the real scoop~I'm not wearing make-up, not because I am tired, but because I am in a hurry. If I'm not properly spackled, it's because I had to make an unexpected trip to town. I am not tired, or sick, or lazy. This is how I look. If it's offensive to anyone, they can take it up with my parents. I really had no say in it.

~All those cartons of ice cream are for a birthday celebration. And since there are 11 people living in my home, and usually more coming over to help celebrate, we need lots of ice cream. This ALWAYS accompanies a made-from-scratch, baked with love cake by yours truly. And since my ice cream maker only makes a quart of the frozen stuff at a time, and I had to run to town for some last-minute ingredients, I can't afford the time it would take to make enough ice cream for a birthday party.

~Beneath my Starbuck's logo, is usually a regular cup of coffee. Sometimes it's a hot cup of mint tea. Always with half & half. Unless my cup is made of plastic and is spewing whipping cream from the top, don't assume that I am "sneaking" a forbidden beverage. Besides, my daughter works for the company, and I use it as an excuse to get to talk to her in between her other customers. If you judge anything, judge my elbow-driving abilities or the fact that my son is licking the handle of the cart...they both need work. (And my cellphone has a handy-dandy little calculator on it~and it's pink. Which somehow makes me feel a little less dowdy.)

~Sometimes I buy fabric softener or dryer sheets. Usually from the health food store, but not always. That said, 90% of the time, I use white vinegar for my fabric softener. I also use it to clean the shower, wash my windows, clean the toilets (with a little baking soda), wash the walls, clean mold...for less than a dollar, I get a gallon of the stuff. And for $5, I get the privilege of using the bottom rack of my shopping cart.

~The cheap, white bread makes great squirrel food, especially when slathered in cheap peanut butter. And speaking of the hydrogenated goo, this is the only stuff that sticks to the pinecones that will be covered in birdseed and hung around our front yard...to keep the birds from taking off with the squirrel food. It's also much cheaper than the bricks of suet that only last until the squirrels realize the birds got the better deal.

I have a terrible habit of looking into other people's carts. And sometimes I can pass judgement based on what I see there. I can also be very judgmental when I see how those goods are paid for, but the reality is, I don't know that persons story. 

When I was a little girl, I remember following my grandfather to the Brach's candy bins. He always bought a pound or two of different candies; hard butterscotch candies, blue mints, peppermints, neopolitans, and even Jolly Ranchers were carefully bagged and weighed. Grandpa wasn't a skinny man (nor was he fat), but he was hunched over from a stroke and had to walk with a cane. Based on what was seen, one might think that maybe the candy wasn't a good purchase for him to be making.

Based on someone else's judgement.

The truth is, my grandfather had diabetes and carried those candies in his pockets until the day he passed away. When his blood sugar started to fall, he would place a hard candy in his mouth and suck on it until he felt better. (Usually this would happen if the Sunday sermon when on a little too long!)

And the neopolitan's? Those were for his 7 grandchildren who always knew that Grandpa had candy in his pockets.

So, the next time we're in the grocery store and run into someone we know, or think we know, let's not don't judge them by what's in their cart, how they pay, or whether they are perfectly put together. We'll never know their whole story.

And we don't need to.

Word of the Week...

SNOW!!!

See the pretty snowflakes

Falling from the sky;

On the walls and housetops

Soft and thick they lie.

On the window ledges,

On the branches bare;

Now how fast they gather,

Filling all the air.

Look into the garden,

Where the grass was green;

Covered by the snowflakes,

Not a blade is seen.

Now the bare black bushes

All look soft and white,

Every twig is laden,

What a pretty sight!

~Anonymous~

I like the way "Anonymous" thinks!☺