30 September 2009

It's my honey's birthday!

Today's Kent's birthday, 61. He's been birthdaying since Friday when our friends D and Y came for the weekend. We ate at Sonny's that night and snacked on oatmeal chocolate chunk pecan cookies. Saturday morning D cooked sausage gravy and biscuits and hash browns for breakfast. We toured the Hay House in Macon, the nineteenth century home of three wealthy families in succession. Ate lunch at Adrianna's, our favorite Italian bistro. On a Saturday afternoon, oooh can't get any better! Penne pasta with marinara and Parmigiano Pecorino o my goodness. Made Kent his favorite birthday cake when we got home: um, cherry pie. Yeah, he's a weirdo. Who in their right mind likes cherry pie over, say, chocolate cake with butter cream frosting, or spice, or carrot? (Same frosting, add nuts.) KENT! Cherry pie and, with Y's help, with almond extract and butter dotted on top of the cherry filling before baking. Deep dish. Lattice top. Sugared. Made Enchiladas Verde from For the Love of Cooking blog for dinner while the guys watched football and Y napped on the couch under the afghan and with her scriptures in front of her face. Mm, EV involves carmelized red onions (decided I didn't have enough of those, so put in two whole Vidalia onions, sliced) and black beans, green enchilada sauce, green chiles, corn tortillas, black olives, pulled chicken and mega-cheese and a 9 x 13 casserole dish. We do this when D and Y come, or we go there: make lots of food. And just as the Auburn game started dinner was ready, so we grabbed dishtowels for little tablecloths and ate in our laps and cheered for Auburn. Gosh they needed it - they let Ball State get ahead of them in like the first 5 minutes. About halftime we made chocolate malts.

Sunday I went early, early, early to church since the choir was singing and we practiced. The other three came on time. Our meeting was so good- about being a peculiar people - in fact very uplifting. The choir sang so well that a lot of people in the congregation were teary. They felt the spirit and emotion of O My Father and it helped that we had a flute and organ descant above the choir, and that our flutist who'd been struggling all week with pitch, was right on. It was a huge relief for me. D and Y and Kent had naps after lunch (Skyline chili) while I held choir practice in the afternoon, then we watched the Women's R. S. Broadcast. I had DVRd it. Dinner was popcorn, cherry pie with yogurt, and Hershey's Extra Creamy Milk Chocolate with Toffee & Almonds minis.

So yeah, this has turned out to be a food blog I guess. But no, the point is Kent was HAPPY when the weekend was over - not that it was over, but that he feels loved and well fed! He loves our friends, he loved hosting them; we had great talks and laughs and insights and stayed up way too late. Kent enjoyed the Women's conference and the choir singing on Sunday and the Gospel Doctrine class about rescuing and being rescued (so many layers of thought and discussion here); loved showing our friends around Macon on Saturday and telling them stories of when he worked there years ago; he loved being catered to each day and reminded it's his birthday days at a time. Who doesn't love being loved?

He got a little card from me today. Pretty anti-climactic. It says I love you and I wouldn't change anything about you. I gave him some Maple Nut candies and a kiss. I cooked him gravy and biscuits for his birthday breakfast and sent his favorite cookies with him to work which I made last night - the ones his mother made for him and sent in a care package at least once when he was in Viet Nam in '69 or '70. They're special because they're his mother's and because I make them. Mexican Wedding cookies I guess they're called. Powdered sugary things. I'm glad today he's enjoying things he loves. I didn't buy him anything. He didn't order anything for himself online. I did DVR an Orchestra on Temple Square concert he's going to love watching some time this week with me, featuring a concert pianist. An hour long. His birthday's going to keep going for a few days!
----
01-01-09 WR GA



01-13-09 SLC UT



05-30-09 Burley, ID



06-06-09 SLC UT



07-04-09 Acworth, GA



09-05-07 Columbia, SC



---
Abbie and S, 2004


Abbie and S and N, 2006


Landon 2006

23 September 2009

Misadventures

There are just too many adventures to tell about being a visiting teacher. To write about here. I call them my misadventures. That's apt. I think, sitting here wondering what to share much of the time I come to this blog, this NEW POST page, that really there are too many little things and I sigh out loud realizing I could never write them. Not. Like Mormon declaring he hadn't written the 100th part of all the records he possessed as he was abridging them onto the gold plates. I know this about him now better, not from studying Words of Mormon in the Book of Mormon; from sitting here chuckling about what goes around in my little world and giving in to only alluding to it somewhat.

Were someone to ask me what did you do today they couldn't stay long enough to listen if it was a day I'd been visiting teaching. Of course one visit teaches multiple ways: formally, with one's skirt on and purse in hand and a lesson, and maybe a treat; informally by phone calls, birthday cards and the like; and ermergencyishly, running in your whatever-you've-got-on-at-the-moment clothes with your-hair-however-it-is-and-no-purse to take-someone-somewhere-in-the-car or clean-up-after-a-fire or . . . well, you couldn't stay here long enough to read about it. You have dinner to get. And I couldn't stay to write it all. My life is fairly regular, punctuated periodically by my interactions (little misadventures) with my ladies, et. al.

Did I mention they have dogs? All. Except, well, D who was going to get a beagle after her husband died last year; who did get a kitty (with razor claws) I think from Walmart and who expected the beagle puppy in short order; but who, after kitty, hysterical when she came home each day after work and hysterical while she was gone all day, destroyed the place, unloaded it onto one of her grown daughters with children (perfect) - and x-nayed the eagle-bay. Poste haste. V, who until about April had no dog, acquired her grown daughter's dachshund, Belle. I'm reminded every time I knock on V's door (I did this today) to stoop and pet the dog only on the sidewalk, not halfway into the house; because of course Belle answers the door well ahead of V by flinging herself at me. Making no sound, just hurtling herself out the door at me. At my ankles and shoes and the very sidewalk under me, the whole time wagging the dog and flattening herself to the ground like she's going to any minute, well, relieve herself. Which she does the very minute, the very nanosecond I stoop to pet her; it's a routine. I have to be reminded that I either ignore this little missile at my feet and we all troop into the living room like there was never a dachshund hugging my ankles, or I make over Belle on the sidewalk and let her get hold of, or rather, let go of, her emotions and other functions before we go inside. Today V warned me in time to prevent me stooping and petting and all was saved. In we went to the sofa where I was licked wetly on the lips by this little short hair, then threw her stuffed toy about twenty (no, 10) times before we started the lesson. In my skirt with my purse. Not bad. By far, by far, the nicest of dog scenarios I ever encounter on my misadventures.

I could SO go on here about Goober - judge by the name - roaring, baying, braying along with his two brothers, one a monstrous chap and the other a yapper, at the front door of M's house, that being closed tight and thank goodness standing between me and them, M herself taking a very long time to come to it. Goober clambered up onto the sewing machine cabinet meantime on all fours and growled and woofed through the open screened window at me . . . ridiculous . . . I could go on, but I'll save this for a NEW POST.

---
Abbie's first day at preschool, 2006


Andrew at McDonald's Playplace

19 September 2009

Little routines

There's about three minutes left on cookies in the oven - oatmeal chocolate chip, an old favorite even with a recipe from Kent's mom's ward cookbook, one I haven't used. You flip through cookbooks, or I do, looking for variations on things, and late on Saturday night all you really want is chunky oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Tonight I put double chocolate in - white and milk; and about a cup of pecans. I love all things chunky in cookies - but not candied fruit. Not that. You can always trust these to not disappoint.

Kent just heard the one-minute ding on the timer so I guess I'm closer to hot cookies than I thought. He's all smiles.

Back.

A dozen out, another dozen in and Auburn football is rained, or raining, out just when the game is supposed to start. We have to wait an hour now to see if they'll even let people with tickets into the stands. Some are there already, sitting under literally a stadium-size waterfall. It'll be a lake, no kidding, when - if - they kick off; and surely the W. V. Mountaineers don't have dry shoes and clothes for the second half. And it'll be way late if we watch the game, if they play. I sure should have taken a nap today. The best part of this football night I think is the cookies.

I sat under my computer desk today and tied up the computer cables and cords with twisty ties. Separated them beautifully, and got a crick in my neck and a very nervy hip. I vacuumed and dusted and washed sheets and made up the bed and did my Saturday work. It's been a pleasure to scrap a page of Landon and Noah this afternoon while Kent lounged in front of college football. Football season Saturdays have their little routines that I look forward to. Unless we lose. Or get rained out.

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Noah and Landon at the playground

18 September 2009

In the frosty air!

It's a rainy day scrub-the-bathroom day. Actually, the sun's been out a little and I'm getting ready to go to the store before another thunderstorm rolls in. Regina and I walked hard and fast this last day of our 11th week, and climbed the hill twice to celebrate! It's on Joy road. I like that. (Regina, take note.) It's taken me all week to recover from sciatica in my left hip - you should see me starting out each morning - game, but lame! I can hardly bend to tie my shoes. I'm like the Tin Man on the Wizard of Oz.

My get-up-and-go has SO got up and went this week.

But today I was able to get on my Health Rider for a 100-count warm up before I left the house (without crying) and then Regina and I pounded the pavement. She's battling a gimpy thigh. We talk about being old - rather, middle-aged - while we move our muscles and mutter about hips and thighs.

Since it rained all day yesterday and there's a chance of rain today; since it rained precisely fifteen minutes before we got out the door to walk, a squall, a hurricane it sounded like; and since the Weather Channel predicted 30% chance of precip between 4:00 and 5:00 a.m. (with 80% at 7:00) - we were drenched before we'd been on the road 10 minutes,  with, well, "dew." Humidity. This SAUNA we live in. I "dew" not like it. The wet clings to the air and the air clings to us. And our shirts and shorts and all the rest cling to us, and our hair... well... we're near drowned on a morning like this.



Oh for the cool September mornings on the other side of the Continental Divide...

... but what am I thinking???

I don't want to walk when (in a few short weeks) the air is frosty! NO! I've said this any number of times to Regina and she's turning a deaf ear. (She's from Ohio. NORTH Ohio.) She'll take me out in it kicking and screaming. I know this. She'll be laughing while she does it because finally she won't be hot! Picture how an Ohioan says "hot." Or a Wisconsonian - that's how she says it. She's lived in Minnesota too if that helps. She shows me her perspiring forehead to prove it most every morning; in full dark I can see her gently glowing. Insert "near-drowned" after we've walked an hour. I DO know how a nippy morning feels... how many mornings now since I started teaching Seminary have I run to the driveway to get Kent's newspaper well before class starts in nippy - nay, frigid - temps? RUN! Pretending I'm stranded on the prairie the whole time, Wyoming in winter, with the Martin company or Donner party or something (in this fraction of a minute it takes to grab the paper and fast-walk into the house), the stars shivering overhead. Myself shivering uncontrollably.

Well, I could have put on my hoodie.

Regina knows I'll take this sauna any day over November.

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Amy holding Noah on a (busy) vacation day

17 September 2009

No monkeying around

We had butterscotch monkey bread at Seminary this morning. I learned how to make it!



Every time I've ever eaten it, Erin's made it - so I called her for the recipe last night. It turned out amazing,



and me and the kids memorized 2 Nephi 2:27 while we munched on ooey-gooey breakfast. Well, and we had string cheese too to get a little protein into our systems along with the sugar. No highs. They worked hard this morning and kind of played hard - food helps. I'm not above bribing the kids to come to class. They all said thank you.



I cleaned behind my stove today. I can't STAND it when gunk gets between my stove and the counter, so I pulled it out to investigate the two sides. I've done this only about twice since I moved here but it wasn't so bad. I had lint under the stove and behind it, and a few crumbs, nothing rotting or dehydrated. There was a nice crust on both sides of the stove. ICK! I scrubbed the floor, the stove, and the counter sides, then put the stove back and mopped the rest of the kitchen. I dumped out a pile of cookies I made yesterday - molasses and oatmeal. They were awful - a truly hopeless recipe. (With raisins in it even.) The recipe goes in the trash.

It's been raining. A nice day to be inside, well, cleaning I guess behind the stove. My Seminary lesson is prepared, supper is planned, the laundry is through and Color Splash is on. And I have a minute to watch it.

15 September 2009

How Many Are the Things I Can Do Without!

This quote by Socrates I came across makes me smile. Here are my things:

Flavored whipped cream.
Singing birthday cards.
Tweens. (The whole genre please.)
Honeydew.
Pundits.

To name some.

And feather pillows. (A luxury I guess to some folks.)

Things I love to have:
Sturdy
tomato cages.
An apron.
Breathe Rite Strips.
Dual-control AC in my car.

And I love finding quarters in my purse.

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Landon and Erin at the Bountiful Rec

12 September 2009

Genius

Aided by a very long nap after going to the stake primary Daddy Daughter event where I taught 30 dads to lead 2/4, 3/4 and 4/4 music, today I feel much better. Finished Leif Enger's Peace Like a River, really a masterpiece. A strange plot and brilliant writing. Both times I've read it I've come away awestruck.

Here's the thing. Enger's named a character "Jape." The first time I read Peace I was chilled by the guy. This time too. When I finished the book last night (a must-read) I was under the covers on the couch, trembling. I might not have been so much if his name had been Jake or something uh . . . more banal. Okay, I had to look up banal. It's a weird word, I've never used it probably. But it came to me when I needed it. It means lacking originality, freshness or novelty; trite. That's it - "Jake" isn't as original or novel as "Jape."

Enger is a genius.

Jape in this story thrills and chills me. Imagine him. By his name. I like (for Enger's sake and me, his reader) that "Jape" can conjure up "ape." Ew. "Jail," "jade." "Nape." I think it's perfectly icky. And to add to it, his last name is "Waltzer." You wanna' go walter. That's how you want to read. You stumble on Waltzer. And consider a waltzer: A smooth glider in a predictable rhythm. Dancer. I talked about waltzing this morning when the dads conducted in 3/4 time. It's the absolute coolest (brilliant brother Enger) that Jape is at once - at once - all and none of this. You just creep around the guy in the pages.

I loved, besides, the names of Enger's other characters:

1. Jeremiah Land. What do you think? As Jape Waltzer is, no lie, smooth - Jeremiah Land wells in the story like water from a spring. Peace, like a river. I think of the promised land.

2. Reuben, the narrator.

3. Swede, her name unusual, like Scout in another masterpiece.

4. And Davy. "Davy," a comfy, handy, free, smiley, even sort of pioneer name. So thoroughly familiar.

5. Roxanna. Oh, a late-comer. Her name does fit. Take it apart and put it together again and you know her.

Oh well, I can't give you the story. Read it. It kind of used me up, but I'm glad I've read it. Twice. Some books I can't even give myself to once. Just had to say Jape gave me the jitters. Again.

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Zoo pictures. At a glance.

Riverbanks Zoo in Columbia, SC

11 September 2009

Slouch

I don't feel much like putting zoo pictures on the blog today. It's been a week almost since we went to Columbia to the temple and to the Riverbanks Zoo and Botanical gardens and walked around four hours and, well . . . maybe another day. Haven't felt like doing the zoo thing yet. And you have to concentrate (constipate Kent calls it, and one of these days I'm going to slip up and say that); you have to concentrate to upload pictures in a row and get them just right on here. And I just don't feel good. Not terrible, not good. Missed my morning walk with Regina and that makes me feel bad too. Headache. I'm a slouch today.

The bug


Kent with kitty


Scott


Grandchildren


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Okay, one zoo picture. I feel like he looks.

01 September 2009

Sweet!

I loved what I heard on the Mormon Channel yesterday; a psychologist working with LDS Social Services says that more and more patients are coming to her who are in serious and even critical health and/or family situations. Certainly, she says, situations that a decade ago were more feared than actually threatening. There are three basics she can recommend to all of us to help us keep balance in our lives:

1. Apply the Word of Wisdom (the health code we Mormons follow) to our minds. For instance, take into our minds only what will support, uplift or even inspire us. Nourish us.

2. Choose a lifestyle of creativity, not consumption. I didn't get all the details - I did well to scribble these few notes. But I think it's about contributing to ourselves and others in imaginative ways rather than looking for something to be entertained by or entitled to.



3. Emphasize positives; keep proper perspective. Amen! I continue to hold up the nickel and if all I see is the buffalo, I'm TOO CLOSE to it. Holding the nickel at arm's length lets me see landscape, the middle distance and the buffalo.

Sometimes I forget. Lots of times I'm reminded like by these little blurbs on the radio or in heart to heart talks with friends or sisters. How good these times are!

--
Island view park, 2002


Brady and Joseph

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