I am a victim of pre-menopausal memory loss. Which may sound bad, but actually comes in handy now and then. I can read a book, then enjoy it again six months later, having no idea whodunit. So when I read a blog entry a few weeks ago about somebody's cornbread that was not quite up-to-par, it reminded me of the biscuit story. That's not the bad part though. The problem is that I can't remember whose blog I read it on to give some linky-love, so whoever you are, thanks for the biscuit reminder. I appreciate all the verbal clues I can get.
On to the biscuit story.
I was born in DC and raised in New Jersey. I don't believe, in the first 23 years of my life, that I ever ate a biscuit. We had great breads from the Jewish bakeries, but nary a biscuit. I wasn't even sure what they were. So when Ben and I married, he gave me his biscuit recipe which he had written inside the cover of his Bible. It's that important to a southern man. But along with the biscuit recipe, he had a few others he considered crucial to life-as-we-know-it.
So trying to be the ultimate wife, I set to work making biscuits one day. I measured. I cut in shortening. I tossed wet with dry quickly. I folded and patted a few times. I cut them out and put them on the pan. Ungreased, of course. I happily put the pan in a 450 degree oven just like the recipe said, and set the timer.
For one hour.
I had already made a pot of soup which was simmering, just waiting for my very first biscuits to sop up the juice, so Ben and I were out in the yard playing with our neighbor's puppies, waiting for the timer to announce the hot, flaky goodness springing forth from my newlywed oven.
After about 30 minutes, Ben asked if I had set the timer. Yes, I assured him. Time drags when your mouth is watering in anticipation.
After 40 minutes we saw smoke coming through the screen door. Houston, we have a problem.
We ran in the house, threw open windows and doors, and Ben fairly flew out the door with the smoking pan. Turns out the 450 degrees was for the biscuits. The one hour was for the banana bread. Who knew?
Ben likes to tell this story to newlyweds and always tells them he actually ate one. That is not true. They were black as hockey pucks, all the way through. We tried to break one in half and couldn't. So Ben set one in the crook of the walnut tree he used to throw knives at and cocked back his arm. He let fly a solid steel throwing knife which hit the biscuit dead center and shattered into a million pieces. I believe the biscuit is still there.
For the record, he says I make the best biscuits on the planet now. I just needed a little practice.
Be thankful ~
Karen
Monday, October 29, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Scrumptious Sunday #2
Every Sunday (actually, Saturday night) I bake something for our Sunday School class. This is pretty fun because I get to try new things. College & Career age people are usually willing guinea pigs when it comes to food. I've made a few different flavored pound-type cakes recently that got good reviews and I'll share them eventually, but so far the favorite treat is
Pumpkin Bread
2 2/3 C. all purpose flour
2 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/2 tsp. ground cloves
Combine all the above in a bowl and set aside.
1 C. (2 sticks) butter, softened
1 3/4 C. sugar
4 eggs
1 - 15 oz can pumpkin (not pie filling)
1 C. chocolate chips
Cream butter and sugar well. Add eggs and beat well. Add dry ingredients alternately with pumpkin. Stir in chocolate chips. Divide into two PAM-sprayed 9x5 bread pans. Bake at 350 degrees for one hour. Let cool in pans about 10 minutes then turn out onto wire racks. Enjoy!
Be thankful ~
Karen
Friday, October 26, 2007
Oh I am Such a Redneck!
We have a truck. Actually two, but one just sits in the driveway with half its parts in the front seat. It is the newer of the two, but needs a specific harmonic-balancer-puller which we can't seem to find, so there it sits, waiting for some kind soul to pity it and permanently put it out of its misery. Ben calls that one "Big Red" but it is actually a lovely shade of maroon. The rest of us call it the "purple truck" and Ben gets incensed and we all laugh hysterically. Red it is not.
But I digress.
The older of the two trucks is a 1990 Ford F-150. Yes, that's a 17 year-old truck that has about 250,000 miles on it and runs like a champ. It has a five-speed manual transmission and at one time was that great Ford blue. But alas, it belonged to a painter (Ben) who was hired to paint a fence around a six-acre sheep field on a windy day. He used a sprayer which he moved around the field in the back of "Ole Blue" and you can guess what happened. "Ole Blue" became "Ole Blue and White." They scraped the white paint off the windshield (sort of) to drive home. The mirrors are still white, well, what mirrors there are. The blue paint was already peeling badly on the hood before "Ole Blue" took on her new hue. There are more dents than flat spots, the bumpers are curled up in several places, the ladder rack is completely rusty, and the tailgate comes completely off if you let it down too fast. But don't worry - Elijah and I are good at putting it back on. One day Mike backed out the driveway thinking the tailgate was latched. It wasn't. When he started to go forward the whole thing fell off in the street. The neighbors love us.
The power windows stopped working in Ole Blue and White a long time ago. But that's ok - we've learned that if you open the door, put a hand on each side of the window and have someone else push the "down" button, they go down easily. You just can't do it while you're driving. We've also learned not to put the window all the way down, otherwise you can't grab it to put it up like you got it down. Actually, some of us have not learned this lesson, because some of us like to hang our arms out the window while we're driving. And then some of us don't put the window up when we get home so that the next day, when rain is imminent, our wife has to go outside and pull the inside door panel off (don't worry - it comes off in a snap and only rattles a little while you're driving), shove a small crowbar down there to lift up on the window until she can grab the top of the window and pull it up.
Except that sometimes said wife accidently drops the crowbar down inside the door and it's unretrievable. Oops. But what's another rattle, right?
Last weekend Ben took apart a set of cabinets in some guy's den and the back of Ole Blue and White was full of the parts, along with the combination microwave-range-hood he took out of the guy's kitchen. And since he has more work to do tomorrow, he asked Elijah and I to take all the junk to the dump today. Now normally this is not a big deal. Elijah and I do the dump-runs most of the time anyway.
But today was different.
Today it was pouring. I mean a steady, drenching, soaking rain.
Nevertheless, the deed must be done, so we put on hats and coats and brave the cats-and-dogs downpour. Ole Blue and White starts right up and I go hunting the accessories. Headlights - check. Defroster - check. Good thing it's chilly out - defrost comes out at 110 degrees, full blast or not at all. Then I find the windshield wiper switch. It has no knob. Just a little metal stub with one flat side, where the knob used to be oh-so-many years ago. It is so tiny I can't grab it hard enough to turn it, but wait, here's a heavy-duty glove kept on top of the steering column just for grabbing the non-knob with! Who needs conveniences like knobs when you can just keep the heavy-duty glove handy? Hey, you can even use it to wipe the sweat brought on by that awesome defroster!
For the love of Pete (and I'm not talking about my dog), will someone please find us a harmonic-balancer-puller thingy so I can drive a truck with a windshield-wiper knob?
Be thankful ~
Karen
But I digress.
The older of the two trucks is a 1990 Ford F-150. Yes, that's a 17 year-old truck that has about 250,000 miles on it and runs like a champ. It has a five-speed manual transmission and at one time was that great Ford blue. But alas, it belonged to a painter (Ben) who was hired to paint a fence around a six-acre sheep field on a windy day. He used a sprayer which he moved around the field in the back of "Ole Blue" and you can guess what happened. "Ole Blue" became "Ole Blue and White." They scraped the white paint off the windshield (sort of) to drive home. The mirrors are still white, well, what mirrors there are. The blue paint was already peeling badly on the hood before "Ole Blue" took on her new hue. There are more dents than flat spots, the bumpers are curled up in several places, the ladder rack is completely rusty, and the tailgate comes completely off if you let it down too fast. But don't worry - Elijah and I are good at putting it back on. One day Mike backed out the driveway thinking the tailgate was latched. It wasn't. When he started to go forward the whole thing fell off in the street. The neighbors love us.
The power windows stopped working in Ole Blue and White a long time ago. But that's ok - we've learned that if you open the door, put a hand on each side of the window and have someone else push the "down" button, they go down easily. You just can't do it while you're driving. We've also learned not to put the window all the way down, otherwise you can't grab it to put it up like you got it down. Actually, some of us have not learned this lesson, because some of us like to hang our arms out the window while we're driving. And then some of us don't put the window up when we get home so that the next day, when rain is imminent, our wife has to go outside and pull the inside door panel off (don't worry - it comes off in a snap and only rattles a little while you're driving), shove a small crowbar down there to lift up on the window until she can grab the top of the window and pull it up.
Except that sometimes said wife accidently drops the crowbar down inside the door and it's unretrievable. Oops. But what's another rattle, right?
Last weekend Ben took apart a set of cabinets in some guy's den and the back of Ole Blue and White was full of the parts, along with the combination microwave-range-hood he took out of the guy's kitchen. And since he has more work to do tomorrow, he asked Elijah and I to take all the junk to the dump today. Now normally this is not a big deal. Elijah and I do the dump-runs most of the time anyway.
But today was different.
Today it was pouring. I mean a steady, drenching, soaking rain.
Nevertheless, the deed must be done, so we put on hats and coats and brave the cats-and-dogs downpour. Ole Blue and White starts right up and I go hunting the accessories. Headlights - check. Defroster - check. Good thing it's chilly out - defrost comes out at 110 degrees, full blast or not at all. Then I find the windshield wiper switch. It has no knob. Just a little metal stub with one flat side, where the knob used to be oh-so-many years ago. It is so tiny I can't grab it hard enough to turn it, but wait, here's a heavy-duty glove kept on top of the steering column just for grabbing the non-knob with! Who needs conveniences like knobs when you can just keep the heavy-duty glove handy? Hey, you can even use it to wipe the sweat brought on by that awesome defroster!
For the love of Pete (and I'm not talking about my dog), will someone please find us a harmonic-balancer-puller thingy so I can drive a truck with a windshield-wiper knob?
Be thankful ~
Karen
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
My Cup Runneth Over
Today was a bleak day in shopping-land. I spent nearly four hours in several different stores looking for arbs. If you read that backward, you'll understand my despair. And if you're a guy, stop reading and go visit somebody else's blog for today. I hate arb shopping more than any other kind, including bathing suit shopping with teenage daughters. My skin actually gets rubbed raw from trying on all the lacy-scratchy-picky ones and the whole thing becomes a blur, like when you're house-hunting. There's something wrong with every one you look at.
Band too tight - I need to breathe.
Wire too stiff - I need to move.
Lace too scratchy - I don't want to bleed.
Too much padding - It's not a mattress, for cryin' out loud.
At one store there was a screaming baby party in the fitting room and I just couldn't contemplate supportive-yet-pretty.
And so I wound up at my old faithful, Victoria's Secret thinking "I can take a loan if I have to. Or get a second mortgage. Or sell one of the cars." Really. $50 for one?? And of course, since it's been two years since my last arb-shopping expedition (can you imagine???), they don't have the style I love anymore. They're all new and improved. Except that I'm old and, um, well, we won't go there. I'm really not insecure about my body image, I just prefer to keep it covered up.
Then I had the brilliant idea to come home and check the online store to see if they still had my old style.
Nada. Pity me.
So I'm back to square one. Still in need, but without hope. I really need some uplifting words of wisdom. Ahem.
Be thankful~
Karen
Band too tight - I need to breathe.
Wire too stiff - I need to move.
Lace too scratchy - I don't want to bleed.
Too much padding - It's not a mattress, for cryin' out loud.
At one store there was a screaming baby party in the fitting room and I just couldn't contemplate supportive-yet-pretty.
And so I wound up at my old faithful, Victoria's Secret thinking "I can take a loan if I have to. Or get a second mortgage. Or sell one of the cars." Really. $50 for one?? And of course, since it's been two years since my last arb-shopping expedition (can you imagine???), they don't have the style I love anymore. They're all new and improved. Except that I'm old and, um, well, we won't go there. I'm really not insecure about my body image, I just prefer to keep it covered up.
Then I had the brilliant idea to come home and check the online store to see if they still had my old style.
Nada. Pity me.
So I'm back to square one. Still in need, but without hope. I really need some uplifting words of wisdom. Ahem.
Be thankful~
Karen
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Scrumptious Sunday
Since I've been told I'm a fairly good cook, I'm going to spend my Sundays sharing new and old favorite recipes with you. And since I neglected to share the recipe for salmon chowder with you over a week ago when I promised it, I'll start with that one.
Salmon Chowder
Chop and saute 7 slices bacon until brown. Remove from pan to paper towel and let sit. Saute 1 chopped onion in bacon fat - you should have 2 or 3 Tbsp. fat left - if you need more, use a little extra-virgin olive oil (hereafter referred to as evoo). After onion is softened, add 2 or 3 Tbsp. flour to make a roux (it will look kind of nasty, what with onion chunks and all - bear with me). Add 1 C chicken broth and 3 C. milk and bring to a boil. Add a couple of diced potatoes and cook until done. Add a generous handful of frozen peas, the same of corn, and however much cooked, flaked salmon you have. (I had about a 1-lb. fillet that I had roasted in the oven and flaked.) Let it all get hot and add dill and pepper to taste.
And while we're on the salmon subject, there is only one way I ever cook salmon at home, and I love it so much I never order salmon when I go out to eat. Here it is in all its simplicity:
Combine in a small bowl 1 Tbsp. sugar, 1 Tbsp. grated lemon zest, 1 tsp. salt and freshly ground black pepper. Cut about a one-pound salmon fillet into serving size pieces and place on shallow pan. Rub with lemon zest mixture and let sit about 30 minutes while you read blogs or something equally interesting. Preheat oven to 450 degrees and roast salmon for 15 minutes or until just done. Don't overbake - the timing depends on the thickness of the fish.
And do yourself a favor and get one of those nifty microplanes. They cost you all of $8 and make zesting citrus fruits incredibly easy. No kidding - you'll feel like Rachael Ray! And when I do this salmon, I throw a few fillets on there plain, for the chowder. Cook, cool, flake, and freeze for when you want dinner in a hurry.
Be thankful ~
Karen
If I could have a real-live honest-to-goodness technically savvy blogger-type right here next to my computer desk, here are the questions I would ask him/her:
1. How do I get more personal RAM? I mean, I go through my days experiencing all kinds of blog-worthy experiences, but by the time I get to sit down here they have all been lost in neuro-space, never to be found again. Do you really good bloggers keep scrap paper in your pockets to write things down on?
2. How do I customize my blog without re-formatting the hard drive of my computer? Seriously, that is a major concern for me.
3. How do you learn the technology behind what you do while keeping a steady stream of meals coming from the kitchen and the socks folded?
4. What on earth is an RSS feed? I've read explanations of this before and really, they sound like the assembly instructions for a space shuttle.
5. Where do the missing socks go? Surely someone has a viable answer for this one. I might as well ask the real-live honest-to-goodness technically savvy blogger-type.
And finally, not a question, but a statement. Did you know there's a grammatical error in the US Constitution? Mike, the Political Science Almost-Grad pointed it out to me yesterday. And I'll tell you, if I could meet Thomas Jefferson face-to-face, I'd give him a piece of my mind, because it's (with apostrophe) one of my pet peeves. If you go to this site you can download a high-resolution image of Article V. The last its has an apostrophe, but shouldn't. I don't know about you, sisters, but that just rocks my world. How will I sleep tonight??
Be thankful ~
Karen
1. How do I get more personal RAM? I mean, I go through my days experiencing all kinds of blog-worthy experiences, but by the time I get to sit down here they have all been lost in neuro-space, never to be found again. Do you really good bloggers keep scrap paper in your pockets to write things down on?
2. How do I customize my blog without re-formatting the hard drive of my computer? Seriously, that is a major concern for me.
3. How do you learn the technology behind what you do while keeping a steady stream of meals coming from the kitchen and the socks folded?
4. What on earth is an RSS feed? I've read explanations of this before and really, they sound like the assembly instructions for a space shuttle.
5. Where do the missing socks go? Surely someone has a viable answer for this one. I might as well ask the real-live honest-to-goodness technically savvy blogger-type.
And finally, not a question, but a statement. Did you know there's a grammatical error in the US Constitution? Mike, the Political Science Almost-Grad pointed it out to me yesterday. And I'll tell you, if I could meet Thomas Jefferson face-to-face, I'd give him a piece of my mind, because it's (with apostrophe) one of my pet peeves. If you go to this site you can download a high-resolution image of Article V. The last its has an apostrophe, but shouldn't. I don't know about you, sisters, but that just rocks my world. How will I sleep tonight??
Be thankful ~
Karen
You know those commercials where the announcer says, "Life comes at you fast?" All true.
I can't remember the last day I blogged, so I'll back up a bit. Mike and Lovely came home Thursday night for fall break and have been here for the weekend. The kids had reserved a recording studio for Friday morning, and we wound up spending five hours there. Their latest will be mixed and mastered Monday - I'll try to share some when we get the final product, if I can figure out how to post a song here. I'll get Adorable to help me. It was loads of fun and we learned a lot, and they actually got Elijah to sing some on one song, AND play his cello on another. Poor thing - his voice is changing and cracks at the most inopportune times, though I don't know of an opportune time for a 14-year-old's voice to crack.
Then Saturday our church school's soccer team played for the State Championship. And lost. But at least they didn't get slaughtered - it was only 1-0. They played hard, a few came out with injuries, and they certainly didn't embarrass themselves - we were proud. We screamed until we were hoarse, stomped on the bleachers, blew the air horn, shouted obnoxious things at the obviously blind refs. Seriously, the refs missed a hand ball, offsides several times, numerous fouls, and let the play continue around a guy who was rolling on the ground in agony. It was a pathetic example of officiating. But you would expect me to say that since my team lost. And you would be right.
While we were driving home we got a call from Lovely's friend, Jenny, who was coming to have dinner with us. Jenny goes to school with Lovely. I had given her directions earlier in the day, and let me tell you, I give great directions. But I didn't factor in Jenny's lack of internal compass. Part of the directions are as follows:
Turn right on XYZ Road. Come to a four-way stop. Go straight through.
Jenny made the turn on XYZ and came to the four-way stop.
And got lost.
At the four-way stop. Where she was supposed to go straight.
I'm sorry, but this is completely beyond my comprehension.
Jenny finally got here and we decided she would stay the night rather than try to drive home in the dark, bless her heart. She stayed, we all went to church this morning, and the kids just left a few minutes ago to drive back to school, with Jenny following them. While we were standing in the driveway, the following conversation took place:
Lovely: Jenny, repeat after me.
Jenny: OK. (laughing)
Lovely: I will follow this green Honda.
Jenny: I will follow this green Honda. (still laughing)
Lovely: I will turn when this Honda turns. I will go straight when this Honda goes straight. I will stop only when this Honda stops.
Jenny repeats all this while laughing, and Lovely is dead serious. I hope Jenny follows a car better than she follows directions.
So here we are on a beautiful fall Sunday afternoon. I could wash the car, sweep the leaves off the deck, make some cookies (yeah, we really need those), do laundry, balance the checkbook, or make a plan for the coming week (yes, I actually do that). And what do you think are the odds that I'll do any of those things?
Zip.
My newspaper and sofa in the sun room await. I feel a nap coming on.
Be thankful ~
Karen
I can't remember the last day I blogged, so I'll back up a bit. Mike and Lovely came home Thursday night for fall break and have been here for the weekend. The kids had reserved a recording studio for Friday morning, and we wound up spending five hours there. Their latest will be mixed and mastered Monday - I'll try to share some when we get the final product, if I can figure out how to post a song here. I'll get Adorable to help me. It was loads of fun and we learned a lot, and they actually got Elijah to sing some on one song, AND play his cello on another. Poor thing - his voice is changing and cracks at the most inopportune times, though I don't know of an opportune time for a 14-year-old's voice to crack.
Then Saturday our church school's soccer team played for the State Championship. And lost. But at least they didn't get slaughtered - it was only 1-0. They played hard, a few came out with injuries, and they certainly didn't embarrass themselves - we were proud. We screamed until we were hoarse, stomped on the bleachers, blew the air horn, shouted obnoxious things at the obviously blind refs. Seriously, the refs missed a hand ball, offsides several times, numerous fouls, and let the play continue around a guy who was rolling on the ground in agony. It was a pathetic example of officiating. But you would expect me to say that since my team lost. And you would be right.
While we were driving home we got a call from Lovely's friend, Jenny, who was coming to have dinner with us. Jenny goes to school with Lovely. I had given her directions earlier in the day, and let me tell you, I give great directions. But I didn't factor in Jenny's lack of internal compass. Part of the directions are as follows:
Turn right on XYZ Road. Come to a four-way stop. Go straight through.
Jenny made the turn on XYZ and came to the four-way stop.
And got lost.
At the four-way stop. Where she was supposed to go straight.
I'm sorry, but this is completely beyond my comprehension.
Jenny finally got here and we decided she would stay the night rather than try to drive home in the dark, bless her heart. She stayed, we all went to church this morning, and the kids just left a few minutes ago to drive back to school, with Jenny following them. While we were standing in the driveway, the following conversation took place:
Lovely: Jenny, repeat after me.
Jenny: OK. (laughing)
Lovely: I will follow this green Honda.
Jenny: I will follow this green Honda. (still laughing)
Lovely: I will turn when this Honda turns. I will go straight when this Honda goes straight. I will stop only when this Honda stops.
Jenny repeats all this while laughing, and Lovely is dead serious. I hope Jenny follows a car better than she follows directions.
So here we are on a beautiful fall Sunday afternoon. I could wash the car, sweep the leaves off the deck, make some cookies (yeah, we really need those), do laundry, balance the checkbook, or make a plan for the coming week (yes, I actually do that). And what do you think are the odds that I'll do any of those things?
Zip.
My newspaper and sofa in the sun room await. I feel a nap coming on.
Be thankful ~
Karen
Monday, October 15, 2007
I'll take a large pepperoni delivered to the emergency room
Why do I ever think a Sunday afternoon nap is a good idea? I made that fateful mistake yesterday and lived to regret it.
And drove 200 miles.
My saga began toward the end of Sunday School with Ben winding up his teaching in the third chapter of Colossians, when his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He looked to see that it was Mike (our son, who is away at college with Miss Lovely) and let it go to voicemail. Now, I love to hear my husband teach and normally don't get distracted, but that phone call when I knew my kids should have been at church really wigged me out. In the last two minutes of class I had the following thoughts, in no particular order, sometimes overlapping:
*They've had a wreck.*
*He's deathly sick.*
*OMGoodness, he has no health insurance.*
*Something terrible has happened that will undoubtedly cost us many thousands of dollars.*
Unfortunately, I wasn't too far off.
When Ben finally called him back, we learned that they had been sitting in church when Leah leaned over and whispered, "I feel like I'm going to pass out," and she put her head on his shoulder. In a few seconds, her head became very heavy and she started to roll forward.
Girlfriend, THAT is some POWERFUL preaching!
So Mike thought, in true college-guy fashion, "Oh, crap." He put his Bible on the pew, put Leah's on the pew, scooped her up and walked out. Now get a visual here. They sit on the second row. Mike is 6'4" and Lovely is 5'9". This activity doesn't go unnoticed, and it looks like the Pied Piper with all the folks running out after them, one of which happens to be a doctor.
But back up just a second. Leah says she was not completely unconscious at this point, and she distinctly remembers grabbing for her skirt so she wouldn't be mooning everyone on the way out. Mike says she was dead weight. Who knows what really happened? Those poor parishioners!
So Mike gets her to the vestibule and tries to put her in a chair which she promptly slides out of. The doctor suggests the floor (I'm thinking, "Please tell me they didn't lift her legs with that knee-length skirt on!). By this time she is conscious again and, while the doctor is checking her pulse, she asks, "Who are you?" The nurse (yes, there's one of those too, and a mother. You know the type - she feels it her duty to be everyone's mama - I love this woman) says, "He's Dr. ___________. At this point Dr. Who informs Leah he has already called the rescue squad and she puts up vehement protest. She and Mike both know what's wrong - her blood sugar has dropped. This happens occasionally and they know what to do. But no. Dr. Who is the expert and we will do exactly as he says. The rescue squad arrives, loads her up, checks her blood sugar which is already back to normal (an adrenalin rush will do that - it's the way God designed our bodies) and takes her to the local ER with Mike following in his car.
At this point, I am talking to Mike and we realize Lovely has no ID, no insurance info, no purse (she MUST have been unconscious), no nothing. So I talk Mike through getting her checked in and I get on the road to University-town. I drive two hours over the mountains with no cell signal and when I finally get there, they are being discharged. Lovely is fine, no thanks to the three hours of tests the ER doctor ordered - they can't find a thing wrong with her.
No kidding.
We told you three hours ago what was wrong, and thanks to the large pepperoni pizza Mike had delivered when they first got there, Lovely is feeling like a million bucks. So my insurance company will pay over a thousand dollars for an ambulance, ER doctor, EKG, and bloodwork when a $12 pizza was the cure-all.
I love that college-guy thinking.
Be thankful ~
Karen
And drove 200 miles.
My saga began toward the end of Sunday School with Ben winding up his teaching in the third chapter of Colossians, when his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He looked to see that it was Mike (our son, who is away at college with Miss Lovely) and let it go to voicemail. Now, I love to hear my husband teach and normally don't get distracted, but that phone call when I knew my kids should have been at church really wigged me out. In the last two minutes of class I had the following thoughts, in no particular order, sometimes overlapping:
*They've had a wreck.*
*He's deathly sick.*
*OMGoodness, he has no health insurance.*
*Something terrible has happened that will undoubtedly cost us many thousands of dollars.*
Unfortunately, I wasn't too far off.
When Ben finally called him back, we learned that they had been sitting in church when Leah leaned over and whispered, "I feel like I'm going to pass out," and she put her head on his shoulder. In a few seconds, her head became very heavy and she started to roll forward.
Girlfriend, THAT is some POWERFUL preaching!
So Mike thought, in true college-guy fashion, "Oh, crap." He put his Bible on the pew, put Leah's on the pew, scooped her up and walked out. Now get a visual here. They sit on the second row. Mike is 6'4" and Lovely is 5'9". This activity doesn't go unnoticed, and it looks like the Pied Piper with all the folks running out after them, one of which happens to be a doctor.
But back up just a second. Leah says she was not completely unconscious at this point, and she distinctly remembers grabbing for her skirt so she wouldn't be mooning everyone on the way out. Mike says she was dead weight. Who knows what really happened? Those poor parishioners!
So Mike gets her to the vestibule and tries to put her in a chair which she promptly slides out of. The doctor suggests the floor (I'm thinking, "Please tell me they didn't lift her legs with that knee-length skirt on!). By this time she is conscious again and, while the doctor is checking her pulse, she asks, "Who are you?" The nurse (yes, there's one of those too, and a mother. You know the type - she feels it her duty to be everyone's mama - I love this woman) says, "He's Dr. ___________. At this point Dr. Who informs Leah he has already called the rescue squad and she puts up vehement protest. She and Mike both know what's wrong - her blood sugar has dropped. This happens occasionally and they know what to do. But no. Dr. Who is the expert and we will do exactly as he says. The rescue squad arrives, loads her up, checks her blood sugar which is already back to normal (an adrenalin rush will do that - it's the way God designed our bodies) and takes her to the local ER with Mike following in his car.
At this point, I am talking to Mike and we realize Lovely has no ID, no insurance info, no purse (she MUST have been unconscious), no nothing. So I talk Mike through getting her checked in and I get on the road to University-town. I drive two hours over the mountains with no cell signal and when I finally get there, they are being discharged. Lovely is fine, no thanks to the three hours of tests the ER doctor ordered - they can't find a thing wrong with her.
No kidding.
We told you three hours ago what was wrong, and thanks to the large pepperoni pizza Mike had delivered when they first got there, Lovely is feeling like a million bucks. So my insurance company will pay over a thousand dollars for an ambulance, ER doctor, EKG, and bloodwork when a $12 pizza was the cure-all.
I love that college-guy thinking.
Be thankful ~
Karen
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Today the kids and I went with our church's youth group to the first ever Northern Virginia Harvest Rally. It was pretty fun with good preaching, fun games, great music, funny skits put on by representatives from six Christian colleges, and pizza for lunch. The girls are not required to wear skirts to these events, but I usually do because, um, I don't know why. I just do. Anyway, this morning was a little chilly, and since I hate panty hose more than illegal immigrants getting in-state tuition rates, I only wear them to funerals. Not even weddings. So I put on my favorite knee-length denim skirt with really cool brown/black/yellow argyle knee-socks, and smurfys (that's what Abbie named those clog-like shoes that all the kids wear that I think were first made by Birkenstock, but I can't afford the real ones on account of two children in college). And Abbie, being the fashion maven that she is, wore her usual jeans with a short skirt over them. We found out at the end of the day that the photographer had taken a picture of my socks and Abbie's outfit. So here I am, age 46, a successful wife and home schooling mom, and I will be remembered for my funky knee-socks. Sorta sad, but I guess it's better than nothing. I need to pay more attention to the fashion gurus.
Be thankful ~
Karen
Be thankful ~
Karen
Friday, October 12, 2007
My friend, Carrie Louise, is once again having a give-away at her blog The Gremlin Wrangler. Go here to read all about it. I hope I did that right.
My kids and I have a really fun day planned. Adorable goes to the dentist this morning, then we're going to edit our first drafts, and then as the highlight of the day, Mr. Exciting will cut the neighbor's grass. I hope they don't get used to this much entertainment!
Be thankful ~
Karen
My kids and I have a really fun day planned. Adorable goes to the dentist this morning, then we're going to edit our first drafts, and then as the highlight of the day, Mr. Exciting will cut the neighbor's grass. I hope they don't get used to this much entertainment!
Be thankful ~
Karen
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Today my oldest daughter is 21, and let me tell you, she could not be more of a blessing to me. Darlin' Deb got married just over a year ago (her pic is on the sidebar) and moved to TN with her hubby. They are very happily working, building a house, and hubby is starting college.
Recently their community has been rocked by a serious incident and, while others are gossipping and judging, Deb lay awake one night thinking, "let him that is without sin first cast a stone at her." So she got up the next day, called the girl involved and went to see her. They talked for several hours and the girl and her husband both thanked Deb for coming to see her. It's very easy to stand in judgment, and we should - God tells us to judge righteous judgment - but there needs to be a good dose of compassion mixed in too. Sort of a "there, but for the grace of God, go I" kind of thing. I'm proud that my girl showed that. She's pretty amazing.
Today I'm going looking for a cobbler. Didn't know they still existed, did you? I didn't either, but Ben wants two pairs of shoes resoled - he likes the shoes and doesn't want new ones. What is wrong with that man? Not wanting new shoes?? Anyway, that, school, and PE at the Y will take up my day. Hope yours is good.
Be thankful ~
Karen
Recently their community has been rocked by a serious incident and, while others are gossipping and judging, Deb lay awake one night thinking, "let him that is without sin first cast a stone at her." So she got up the next day, called the girl involved and went to see her. They talked for several hours and the girl and her husband both thanked Deb for coming to see her. It's very easy to stand in judgment, and we should - God tells us to judge righteous judgment - but there needs to be a good dose of compassion mixed in too. Sort of a "there, but for the grace of God, go I" kind of thing. I'm proud that my girl showed that. She's pretty amazing.
Today I'm going looking for a cobbler. Didn't know they still existed, did you? I didn't either, but Ben wants two pairs of shoes resoled - he likes the shoes and doesn't want new ones. What is wrong with that man? Not wanting new shoes?? Anyway, that, school, and PE at the Y will take up my day. Hope yours is good.
Be thankful ~
Karen
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
OK, so day one of the writing lessons wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. We brainstormed, made notes, and actually wrote a paragraph together, Exciting, Adorable, and I. Things went well until Adorable wanted to use the idea that cute dogs make us want to talk in "wittle baby voices." And she wanted me to spell it like that. How is this child going to write college essays?
On a different subject, thankfully, the salmon chowder was incredible, and as soon as I remember and have two minutes to spare I'll share the recipe.
Be thankful ~
Karen
On a different subject, thankfully, the salmon chowder was incredible, and as soon as I remember and have two minutes to spare I'll share the recipe.
Be thankful ~
Karen
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Am I the only mom in homeschool-land who breaks out in a sweat when thinking about teaching her children to write? What is it about this subject that strikes fear in the hearts of most homeschool moms? Seriously, I have spent plenty of money on what sound like perfectly good writing curricula which my kids wind up hating and begging to get out of using. What's a mom to do? What would you do? Even if you're not a homeschooler, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this oh-so-touchy subject.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Oh. My. Word. I just signed in here to write a new post and in the split second before I clicked "sign in" I saw random blog names being flashed at the top left of my screen and one of them was Enema Fun. I am not kidding. I don't even know what to think about that, except not to. So, on to other equally unimportant drivel.
Saturday we went to our church school's last home soccer game of the year and it was a real bless their hearts day. Not our team's, but the other one. They drove something like 2 hours over the mountains to get here and then got wholloped, 9-0. Three goals in the first ten minutes. I sort of felt sorry for them, but I know that doesn't make a teenage boy feel any better, so I kept my pity to myself. Anyway, our team is now on its (no apostrophe) way to the State Semi-finals. Hoorah for us.
In other news, my mom and dad are moving from their lovely home on the Chesapeake Bay to Front Royal to be closer to my brother, Jim. They are still in very good health, but they're smart enough to know they may need help as they get older, and don't want to make a move when they're not able to enjoy it. So they bought a house and are having the kitchen and one bathroom gutted and completely renovated. My mom is so cute and calls me almost daily with updates about cabinets, the cool refrigerator with two doors and the freezer on the bottom, granite countertops, all the fun stuff that girls like. Anyway, my dad has scads of tools that he's trying to get rid of, so Ben showed up there Saturday with truck and trailer and came home loaded. The prize of the day was a hydraulic log-splitter, but a close second was the pressure washer. I'm excited because the odds of getting my deck washed and stained are much greater now that we don't have to rent a power-tool.
And in yet other news, I have a new favorite magazine - Cooking Light. I picked up a copy two weeks ago when I was sitting in the Rite Aid waiting two hours for my prescription. I love it! I've already used three recipes from that issue and my family loved them all. So give it a try.
And in the most exciting news, the new Kohl's opened right up the road from us. Abbie and I stopped in the other day and it is the nicest, cleanest, happiest place to shop. I just love that store! Now all we need is a Steinmart and life will be complete.
So I'm trying another new recipe tonight - Salmon Chowder. If it's (with an apostrophe) as good as I think it will be, I'll share the recipe.
Be thankful ~
Karen
Saturday we went to our church school's last home soccer game of the year and it was a real bless their hearts day. Not our team's, but the other one. They drove something like 2 hours over the mountains to get here and then got wholloped, 9-0. Three goals in the first ten minutes. I sort of felt sorry for them, but I know that doesn't make a teenage boy feel any better, so I kept my pity to myself. Anyway, our team is now on its (no apostrophe) way to the State Semi-finals. Hoorah for us.
In other news, my mom and dad are moving from their lovely home on the Chesapeake Bay to Front Royal to be closer to my brother, Jim. They are still in very good health, but they're smart enough to know they may need help as they get older, and don't want to make a move when they're not able to enjoy it. So they bought a house and are having the kitchen and one bathroom gutted and completely renovated. My mom is so cute and calls me almost daily with updates about cabinets, the cool refrigerator with two doors and the freezer on the bottom, granite countertops, all the fun stuff that girls like. Anyway, my dad has scads of tools that he's trying to get rid of, so Ben showed up there Saturday with truck and trailer and came home loaded. The prize of the day was a hydraulic log-splitter, but a close second was the pressure washer. I'm excited because the odds of getting my deck washed and stained are much greater now that we don't have to rent a power-tool.
And in yet other news, I have a new favorite magazine - Cooking Light. I picked up a copy two weeks ago when I was sitting in the Rite Aid waiting two hours for my prescription. I love it! I've already used three recipes from that issue and my family loved them all. So give it a try.
And in the most exciting news, the new Kohl's opened right up the road from us. Abbie and I stopped in the other day and it is the nicest, cleanest, happiest place to shop. I just love that store! Now all we need is a Steinmart and life will be complete.
So I'm trying another new recipe tonight - Salmon Chowder. If it's (with an apostrophe) as good as I think it will be, I'll share the recipe.
Be thankful ~
Karen
Saturday, October 6, 2007
I am happy to say that I have made someone smile. Thanks, Kristarella, for sharing that with me! Of the very few who actually come here and read (other than my family, and they kind of have to), it's nice to know someone's enjoying it. I do realize I'm not the most entertaining person in the blogosphere, and sometimes I go for days without having a write-worthy thought. But if I'm going to tell my children they have to practice writing, I guess I'd better do the same.
I have really been enjoying the fashion advice being dispensed by Bigmama and Boomama, and I get the sense they are friends, or at least know each other pretty well. In any case, they are both pretty entertaining, much more so than I am, bless my heart, so go read what they have to say. And Justice Fergie over at Mamalaw is doing a series on essential wardrobe items. I wonder if she includes a set of "fat clothes?"
And speaking of fat clothes, I think I'm being watched. Yesterday my mail included a postcard from the local Curves asking for volunteers for a 21-day fitness work-up. Somehow they know I have stopped walking and in a mere three weeks am dreadfully out of shape. And how come it takes six weeks of walking to get in shape and only three to turn into a porker? But since Pete is my workout buddy, I guess I'll just hit the road again, and forego the Curves invitation. I'll let you know how it goes. But only if it goes well.
Be thankful ~
Karen
I have really been enjoying the fashion advice being dispensed by Bigmama and Boomama, and I get the sense they are friends, or at least know each other pretty well. In any case, they are both pretty entertaining, much more so than I am, bless my heart, so go read what they have to say. And Justice Fergie over at Mamalaw is doing a series on essential wardrobe items. I wonder if she includes a set of "fat clothes?"
And speaking of fat clothes, I think I'm being watched. Yesterday my mail included a postcard from the local Curves asking for volunteers for a 21-day fitness work-up. Somehow they know I have stopped walking and in a mere three weeks am dreadfully out of shape. And how come it takes six weeks of walking to get in shape and only three to turn into a porker? But since Pete is my workout buddy, I guess I'll just hit the road again, and forego the Curves invitation. I'll let you know how it goes. But only if it goes well.
Be thankful ~
Karen
Thursday, October 4, 2007
OK, so I'm finally getting healthy, getting my energy back, and trying to be normal again. Today Elijah cut the grass and I weeded the front walkway and around the rocks in the ditch. Later I'll spray Round-up so it will stay looking nice until next spring. That walkway is the dumbest design - bricks set in sand - like we couldn't tell the grass and weeds would grow in between them. Duh! At some point I'll rip them out and pour a concrete sidewalk, but I need to get at least one kid out of college first.
I have weird dreams, and quite often. The latest was last night. I dreamed I went to visit Jen and Coie Ig, whom I've never met but whose blogs I read. They live in TN, about 7 hours from me. So I dreamed I decided to go visit them and it only took an hour to get there, and when I did, Coie wouldn't answer the door because she didn't know me. Not as strange as the ferrets-in-chocolate dream, but seriously, is this what's really in my sub-conscious mind? That's scary.
I finally found a pair of jeans that fits me perfectly. Perfect rise, perfect wash, not too tight, but they are too long. And then I remembered what Stacy and Clinton always say - the tailor is your friend! So I'm taking them to be hemmed today and I'll be a happy camper.
Pete has graduated to staying in the laundry room when we go out rather than being put in his crate. We did a few trial runs and he's done very well - no chewing, no escaping. I think the worst is behind us. I was out walking him the other day when my neighbor passed us on the road. She stopped and asked, "Do y'all take him to obedience school? He walks so nicely with you!" to which I answered, "No, that prong collar pinching his neck is very motivating." Maybe that's what I need for my neighbor's kid. . .
Be thankful ~
Karen
I have weird dreams, and quite often. The latest was last night. I dreamed I went to visit Jen and Coie Ig, whom I've never met but whose blogs I read. They live in TN, about 7 hours from me. So I dreamed I decided to go visit them and it only took an hour to get there, and when I did, Coie wouldn't answer the door because she didn't know me. Not as strange as the ferrets-in-chocolate dream, but seriously, is this what's really in my sub-conscious mind? That's scary.
I finally found a pair of jeans that fits me perfectly. Perfect rise, perfect wash, not too tight, but they are too long. And then I remembered what Stacy and Clinton always say - the tailor is your friend! So I'm taking them to be hemmed today and I'll be a happy camper.
Pete has graduated to staying in the laundry room when we go out rather than being put in his crate. We did a few trial runs and he's done very well - no chewing, no escaping. I think the worst is behind us. I was out walking him the other day when my neighbor passed us on the road. She stopped and asked, "Do y'all take him to obedience school? He walks so nicely with you!" to which I answered, "No, that prong collar pinching his neck is very motivating." Maybe that's what I need for my neighbor's kid. . .
Be thankful ~
Karen
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