This counts

I'm begging off posting anything substantive tonight because I had a kitchen accident and a trip to the ER. I'll fill you in tomorrow after my eye is un-dilated.

Okay, so I didn't make it back yesterday

It's been a busy weekend. Sauerkraut, out-of-town guests, church, birthday party.

Tonight I ordered another 600+ photos from Snapfish, so between this order and the last I have almost 1300 photos to scrapbook from the last year. Of course, almost half of those are wedding.

I think it's a good thing that I have two scrapbooking retreats coming up. I can't wait. I hope my pictures make it in time for the first one!

Can we call it even?

I didn't blog last night, but I did blog twice two days ago. And I promise I'll blog again today.

Last night was our sauerkraut supper at church. In spite of the fact that I thought we should do something different and I wasn't in charge of it--because I *did* say no, as I am so often encouraged to do--I still spent 12 hours at church yesterday working on it.  So when I got home at 9:00 last night I was complete mental and physical toast.

Today's agenda: getting ready for a sixteenth birthday party for my baby and his friend tomorrow night.

Groceries, baking, cooking, and some visiting with out of town guests. And--oh yeah--I have to work today.

Better keep moving.

Erasing posts

 I've blogged twice tonight.

And promptly erased each entry.

It wasn't the quality. The writing was good.

It was the subject matter and tone. They were cranky. And I refuse to be a cranky person.

And now I'm tired, and seemingly incapable of a complex sentence.

I could sit in this chair and waste the rest of the night on Facebook or Pinterest, but I think I'll go organize scrapbooking stuff.

I love

. . .my youngest son's giggle when he sees something funny. Especially if it involves cats, squirrels, or bunnies.

Stumped already

I am starting my month stumped about what to write. If I had written earlier in the day, it probably would have gone smoothly, but I was busy with work and errands, so I put it off.

When I sat down to blog I had a couple of ideas rolling around in my head, but I decided to check Facebook first, just to see what my friends are up to. Well, that was a bad idea, because--as is too often the case lately--someone is behaving badly. I want desperately to ignore it. (Actually, I want desperately to tell someone off.  But it wouldn't be nice and they wouldn't accept what I was saying anyway.) So I want to ignore it.

But I can't. Because it's bothering me. And I can't write when I'm bothered unless I'm addressing the source of the irritation.


So tonight's post is pretty much of a waste. Maybe I'll come up with something else later.

Blogging for blogging's sake

Something about the theme-less theme for NaBloPoMo this month really appealed to me.

I need to write more. I think that I'm at a point in my life for the first time in many months that will allow for some daily blog time. It doesn't really matter if anyone reads what I'm writing, although it's more fun that way.

My brain has felt really sluggish lately. Reading has been slow. I haven't been researching anything. I've just been trudging through, living in my too-full, too-demanding house, trying to keep up with everything everyone wants me to do. It's time to get the sludge out and start thinking again.

To help me remember

I had planned to do better documenting the house transition, but it has happened in the midst of so  much busy-ness that it has fallen by the wayside. In addition, I don't currently have a decent camera. I have been trying to use Bethany's old one, but the battery life is so short as to render it useless.

But I do want to make a couple of notes while I remember.

While I was washing dishes at my lovely, shiny, white sink I thought about what an improvement it is over the old one. It is deeper, it looks better, the faucet is more functional and shiny. It feels good to wash dishes in it. Which is a good thing, because the dishwasher is a non-functioning, moldy, soon-to-be-garbage space filler. (I want to pull out the island where it is housed, but not until spring, and I don't want a gaping hole.) I also have a new, properly functioning disposal. It feels so luxurious!

I am enjoying my new stove. And my new refrigerator. And the copious amounts of REALLY hot water put out by my new water heater. I can do laundry just off my kitchen, and not have to brave the basement, thanks to the new plumbing and electrical work that we had done. Okay, so we can no longer walk out the back door--probably a good thing since we pulled out the rotting, termite-infested steps--but we'll deal with that in the spring.

In the not-glamorous, but comforting category, there's a new sump pump to replace the old one that didn't work. And in the made-my-life-so-much-better category is the new tub and shower in the main bath, even though the rest of the bathroom still needs to be ripped out--except for the toilet, which was also repaired after we moved in--so that I can breathe when I'm in there.

We should have ripped out the rest of this bathroom while we were in destruction mode.

We have two rooms on the main floor that are painted and happy. We have three bedrooms that are painted, and one that is primed. We still have some celings that need to come down and the aforementioned bathroom work to do, plus a shower to rip out and replace on the first floor. And the kitchen. And curtains. But at least now we're starting to get to the stuff that I had planned to do when we bought the house.

Someday I might even get to think about making it homey.

Living room bay window. Progress.

31 Reviewing

There are SO many bloggers doing the 31 days. Hundreds. It makes it a bit overwhelming to try to find gold nuggets in the pile of rocks. However, I do have one strong recommendation. If you only read one extra blog this month make it Life in Grace.

I'm sure many of you already do. I know many of us shed tears with Edie when she lost her beautiful home. This month she is doing 31 Days to Rebuilding Your House and Heart as they move into their new home. She's already had me crying, but she also has me thinking about what I want our house to be like when we get past make-it-a-place-we-can-live-and-not-get-sick and get on to making it home.

I'll keep looking for some other nuggets, but this is a good place to start.

31 What?

There's a 31-day blog thing going on. And I am not joining in, unless it's for 31 days of blog reading, because some of these topics sound pretty interesting.

Maybe I'll do 31 Days of telling you about the interesting things I find on these other blogs.

RSVPin'

I'm sure that none of you reading this need this reminder, but when you're invited to a function and an RSVP is asked for, do it.


I know it's easy to set things aside and forget. Things get lost. We think we'll do it later. I do it all the time.

Just do it.

I just did the budget review of our daughter's wedding. Not having an accurate count, even a week before the wedding, cost us right at $900. I am not complaining. The party was worth every penny, and then some. But I think we tend to forget that there's a good reason hosts need to know if we are coming.

RSVP. It's just good manners.And you never know when you might be the host.

Cooking

I'm a pretty decent cook. I enjoy cooking and I like to try new things. I keep a well-stocked pantry and have gotten pretty good at just pulling things together into a meal, based on my mood and what sounds good.

My daughter is a newlywed who found herself in the position of needing to fix dinner a few nights ago without planning and using only the ingredients on hand. She didn't think she should need a recipe. She should just be able to pull it out of her head. She couldn't. So she had, in her own words, a minor meltdown.

She had two things working against her. Well, maybe three:
She is a perfectionist.
She has an unrealistic view of how most people cook.
Her husband is an excellent, intuitive cook.

As a result, to comfort her, I find it necessary to blog about what dinners were like in the early years of our marriage. I was not a complete novice. I cooked dinner many weeknights my last couple of years in high school, but my mom did the planning. I only had to cook. And she had taught me many of the basics.

When I got married I cooked the same things that I had eaten as a kid. I had a rotation of about seven meals. I think all but one involved a white sauce or Campbell's soup. We had tuna noodle casserole nearly weekly. Creamed tuna or creamed dried beef on toast was a frequent meal. Some version of hambuger browned and cooked with soup and noodles--and maybe cheese--was a frequent dish. Salmon cakes and spinach. Hamburger gravy. Spaghetti made with Ragu.

That was pretty much it. Add a canned or frozen veggie and some canned fruit. I had recipes that I made sometimes. My grandma's beef stew. A couple of chicken casseroles. Once in a while I might make a roast with potatoes and carrots for a Sunday dinner. But I never veered far from the foods that I grew up with. And my husband started our marriage as a 19-year-old college student. He would eat anything.

I'm not sure when I started to cook differently. I remember a chicken enchilada casserole that a friend made when Patrick was small that may have been a starting point. Being a Weight Watchers member and then leader changed my cooking somewhat, but made me more recipe dependent when I strayed from the baked chicken breast or piece of fish and broccoli.


 I like having a lot of ingredients available and having many choices. I have a generous grocery budget. I'm kind of spoiled. But it has taken me years and lots of experience to be able to cook this way. And sometimes it fails me. I stand and stare at my pantry and the ingredients don't seem to amount to anything. Those are the nights that my family usually gets spaghetti, tacos, or chicken breasts.

My advice to the person who is newly responsible for cooking meals for a household is to have a couple of meals that you always have ingredients for and that you can cook easily, whether with or without a recipe. These should be things that will almost always sound good to the members of the household. (Around here spaghetti is the big fall back, although in recent years lentils have moved up the list.) It will save lots of stress, and avert meltdowns.

Making risotto. With a recipe.

Perspective

Sometimes I have to remind myself to look at things from the proper angle.

I had a cruddy morning. We realized just as I was leaving for work that the circuit that controls the poorly-wired disposal--the circuit that has been off since Saturday evening--also controls our deep freeze. I'm not even going to address the bizarreness of the wiring. Suffice to say it makes no sense.

But I admit that I had a bit of a sobbing meltdown when I looked and saw pounds of thawed meat.

I went ahead and went in and did what I needed to at work, and came home a couple of hours later to sort out what was still usable and what was destined for the garbage. I quickly found myself grateful that I had not had time to order meat from the farm this year. And that I hadn't spent hours picking blueberries in the hot sun, because the few that were in the freezer were ruined. I was grateful for the three bags of frozen sauerkraut; for some reason they stayed frozen and helped keep the meat around them cold.

In the end we lost a lot of food. But we also were able to salvage a lot. Since I needed to go ahead and cook it I have the beginnings of several meals for next week and a big pot of chili for the weekend.

I've been wanting to get my freezer and pantry organized and to simplify things a bit. I've wanted to get some meals or meal starters in the freezer. Done and done.


I'm thankful that this happened after I have my new stove.
I'm thankful that this happened on a cool day, when having the oven on all afternoon just makes the house smell good.
I'm thankful that, although this is an annoyance and an inconvenience, losing this food in no way effects my ability to feed my family well.
I'm thankful that, if the frozen wedding cake was going to thaw, it happened when the newlyweds are coming for the weekend.

Crash

I'd been waiting for it. I kind of expected it before this. But the timing makes sense, when I think about it.

For seven months my life has been completely focused on three things: selling our old house, getting our new house ready, and Bethany's wedding. We've been living in the new house for almost two months. Bethany has been married for a month. And Monday we turned over the keys of the old house to the relocation company.

That was the last big deadline. After seven months of nearly constant time stress and nearly overwhelming financial decisions, we're done. Of course, we're not. The house is FAR from done.  But there are no drop-dead, gotta-happens looming.

And Tuesday I could hardly pull myself out of bed. I have absolutely zero energy. I'm making myself do what needs to be done--kind of--but there's so much more that needs to happen. And I have no desire to see to any of it. Oh, I've grocery shopped, and run my stupid car to two different garages in search of someone who can fix it, and gone to work, and driven kids places, and washed a few dishes. But I am living in the midst of chaos. I have piles of boxes, some semi-unpacked. My bedroom looks like a bomb went off. The bathrooms need cleaning. I have bills to pay and a couple of emails deserving responses.

And I don't care. Or I do, but not enough to do any of it. I want to eat chocolate, play Sims, and cut and paste pieces of pretty paper. Or curl up in a ball in the corner.

I know this will pass.  The crash was almost inevitable. And I know what I *need* to do.  I ate too many carbs yesterday--which tasted good, but left me feeling sloggy--so I made myself have a huge salad and tea for lunch today. I walked to work in the sunshine, and should probably go back out in it again for a while. I may let myself curl up in a ball at some point. After I go pick up my car and take Jonathan to his voice and piano lessons and fix supper.Or maybe after the weekend, since Bethany and Evan are coming and I really want to so some more cleaning. Or maybe I'll just keep going.

But if you are wanting something from me: a phone call, email, letter, recipe, package, anything church-related, food, event, etc., have patience. Jane is currently out-of-order.

Pictures!

If you would like to see the wedding pictures on the photographer's website go here.

Adjusting

"My oldest is married. She lives in Madison, Wisconsin. Her husband is working on his MBA at UW."

It's funny how often this group of words has come out of my mouth during the past week. I've run into a couple of old acquaintances. My investment guy stopped by the new house to say hi. I've done an intro on a homeschooling list. I've met a new neighbor.

Somehow, I think that repeating this litany over and over is helping to make it seem real to me; it's aiding in my adjustment.

The message of clothes

I had the opportunity to do a lot of thinking about clothes today. I have lost some weight in the past year--to the point that my clothes are quite baggy--so I decided to go do some shopping, hoping to hit some clearance sales. Clothes were on my mind.

Since my shopping buddy got married and moved away last weekend, I was shopping alone, so I had lots of time to think. My first thought on the message of clothes came when I was wandering through Banana Republic, ungreeted and completely unbothered by the people working in the store--none of whom were familiar faces--while they assiduously greeted everyone else who came in and told them about the sale. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and completely understood why I was ignored. I looked schlumpy. My two-year-old, too-big shirt and too-big cropped pants made me look more like I belonged on the "People of Walmart" site than at BR.  I wandered around the store for about five minutes, unaccosted,  and then left without seeing anything that even tempted me to try it on.

Next stop was the Land's End store at Sears. Again, ungreeted. Same was true at every store that I went into except J.C. Penney, where every employee you pass must greet you on pain of death. At Aldo I thought I was truly invisible. I even held a shoe for about a minute while the two people working conversed with each other a couple of feet away, until I left, at which point one said, "Thanks for coming in!" Whaat?!

So all of this was fresh in my mind when I saw, first, the woman in the skintight translucent white jeggings, low-cut shirt & platform shoes dragging the toddler through the mall. (Her outfit didn't say "MOM.") Then I saw the two women in scrubs complaining about the styles at Macys being boring and having no-style. (Unlike their scrubs? Sorry, when you wear scrubs in public I think you're either lazy or germy.) Then, as I was driving to my next stop I saw the kids leaving one of our local high schools on the first day of school, and remembered how carefully my friends and I chose our clothes for the first day. You knew that you were making that first impression for the school year. I was somewhat depressed by the array of long, baggy athletic shorts with sports sandals and flip-flops on guys, tight low-cut tops and the infernal jeggings on girls, and a general air of unkempt, I-don't-give-a-rip emanating from the students. Most of what they were wearing wouldn't have been allowed by the dress code at my public school--which didn't allow the much-in-vogue preppy, knee-length, corduroy walking shorts with matching tights when I was in high school--but, aside from that, it was lounge and recreation wear, not clothing for any activity of importance.

My last stop was my favorite clothing store. I haven't been there often in the last eight months because my life has been crazy. But I knew that I  would find something there to complete my thus-far-frustrated retail therapy. I used to know everyone who worked there, but last fall the entire staff turned over and there were no familiar faces today. So, schlumpy me walked in in one of my few non-Chico's outfits. I was soundly ignored. Completely. It wasn't until I walked up to one of the women with my arms full of clothes to try on that anyone paid the slightest bit of attention to me. And she turned me over to the other person who was working. Oh, honey, your numbers for the day wish that you hadn't done that.

It really was interesting. Usually I dress for shopping. Today I didn't. I wore my comfy, too-big clothes and my Birkenstocks. (Which any observant salesperson would have noticed were new. And adorable. Seriously.) I know clothes send a message. But I really wonder, when I'm out and about, how many people understand or even think about what their clothes are saying. My clothes today said that I either didn't care to, didn't know how to, or couldn't afford to dress in a flattering manner. I recognized that. I kind of knew it when I left home, but it was also part of the reason I needed to shop.

So what's the conclusion? I don't know. I just had to write it all down.

Harry Potter, homeschooling, and the end of an era

This summer feels like a turning point in my life for so many reasons. It's amazing how a three-month span of time can encapsulate so much change.

In June my husband began working in another state, where he taken has an apartment. Monday-Thursday we live apart. After 25 years of marriage, that's a big change. As part of that process we are selling the house that we have lived in for nine years--almost twice as long as I have lived in a house, ever--and are moving to a supposedly less-expensive house. The move is one I've wanted to make for years. We will be closer to friends and church. But it has also been problematic, adding a layer of "What the heck were we thinking?" to the change.

In 30 days our only daughter is getting married. It's all good. He's awesome. They're moving away, but not horribly far. They'll be close enough that visiting can be the matter of a weekend. Like  I said, it's good. But it's also an ending. For almost 25 years I've been the mother of four, at home, living under my roof, and soon I won't be.

My homeschooling days feel like they are almost done. After almost 16 years this is also a big change. My 18 year old needs only a burnishing of math skills, and will be in a college class or two this year. My 15 year old is ready to spread his wings. He wants to go to a residential charter school--at a university out of town--for his junior and senior years. It's a good plan. It would be a challenge for me to provide a challenge for him if he stayed. I have one more year with him, but I really don't do anything for him anymore except buy books and shuttle him places.

My almost 21-year-old, who was the catalyst for our homeschooling, and therefore so much of what has been wonderful about the past 15-plus years, has gone from being that kind of weird, unhappy five-year-old who didn't GET letters and hated school to a college honor student and suit-salesman extraordinaire. And Harry Potter was a part of that. Back when I was trying hard not to despair of him ever learning to read, he went from zero to Harry Potter in three days. Yep. Although he had never read a book before, he read The Sorcerer's Stone in three days. It was a major turning point.

And over the past eleven years Harry Potter has been a part of our lives. Almost every summer has been marked by a new book or movie release. We've been to book release parties and midnight movies. We've  bought multiple copies and still had two people lying on the floor with a book open at two different spots, reading. We've debated the good or evil of Snape and of the books themselves. We've drawn all kinds of comparisons between the books and movies and other books and movies. We've gone to HP sectionals at Higher Things and listened to HP discussions on Issues, Etc.

And tomorrow night the last movie comes out. My three oldest are going to the midnight movie with my youngest and oldest sons' best friends. (My youngest is away for the week and can't believe he planned so badly!) I made it to all of the midnight showings until the last, but I fear age and responsibility have caught up with me.

So bear with me if I'm feeling a bit nostalgic. This is yet another chapter closing in a bittersweet summer.

Difficulty conforming

I am having a problem. My nonconformist tendencies, which have gotten ever stronger over the past few years, are having a lot of trouble with having my house at the peak of on-the-market readiness.

The house is spotlessly clean. There is no clutter. (If you know me you recognize this as a miracle.) It is freshly painted. Much of the woodwork is freshly stained. The carpets are cleaned. We have filled a 15x20 storage unit with furniture, books, pictures, etc. My scrapbooking stuff is hiding in a Sunday School room at church.

BUT...

We have too many books. I've cleared out dozens of boxes, and we still have "too many." My master bedroom is too plain and undecorated. We have too many cars. (I suppose it would be okay if they all were shiny, expensive late-models, but there it is.)

Our TV is too large. We should have a flat screen.

Of course, I know--as a former Realtor--that there cannot be any sign that six people actually live in this house.

Why? Why do people need to pretend that they don't live in their homes when they are for sale? I never had a single buyer who was so stupid that they didn't realize that the house would be different when THEY moved in. I totally get sparkling clean and decluttered, but my house feels sterile to me at this point. It isn't model home decorated, but without the batiks, books, family pictures, etc., it has no soul. And I'm not going out to buy generic dreck to reanimate my house.

Thank goodness my Genie and my pottery are home-sale friendly.

I long to be past this and back into books all over, color, life, cooking, and fun. If my house doesn't sell quickly I may go crazy.

What we've been up to

We've been busy with preparations to move into our new house and with wedding preparations, but most of all right now we've been getting our current house ready to sell. Why do we always finally do the things we've wanted to do to the house just in time to sell?

Jonathan and Andrew stripping the border in the master bath...

and Bethany painting it.

Bethany and Evan working on the hall bathroom.