I feel like the Random Dozen prodigal.

Yes, I've been gone a long time. I can't even remember the last time I participated in the Random Dozen. That's what happens when you get an E-Book, two unit studies, four newsletters, and all the marketing material to edit.

But here I am, still living and breathing and finished with almost all of it. Woo-hoo!

So. On to the Random Dozen.

1. How do you feel about the marshmallow Easter Peeps?


The epitome of nastiness. Air-spun sugar, coated with colored sugar, with sugar eyes. I can feel the diabetes coming on.

2. Chickens are notoriously nervous creatures. When you are nervous, what is the best way to calm down?

Well it's sure not by laying an egg. Depending on what's making me nervous, I close my eyes and force myself to breathe slowly. And pray.

3. People say, "April showers bring May flowers." Do you enjoy Spring rains?

No. I suffer from SAD, so when it's not sunny, I get depressed. And I hate mud. And wet dogs. And limp hair.  ♫ Sunshine ☼ . . . on my shoulders . . . makes me happy. ♫



4. When I was randomly flipping through TV channels this week, I saw a show in which tattoo parlor employees received tattoos of a co-worker's face on their bodies. I can't imagine having a portrait of a colleague tattooed on me. But if someone forced you to receive a portrait tattoo (face only) of anyone, who would it be? Why?


There is no chance on God's green earth I would get a tattoo of anyone or anything. Every time I see a teenage girl with a sexy tattoo, I wonder what it will look like when she's 70. It can't be good.

5. Would you rather have a tattoo (any kind) or a nose ring?


Oh my word, Linda, what is UP with these questions? Well since we all know I'm not going down the tattoo road, I guess that leaves me with a nose ring. But honestly, how do you blow your nose? What happens if you get a cold? HOW DO YOU GET THE LITTLE BACK THINGY ON IT??? Am I the only one who ever wonders stuff like this?

6. Do you have any special plans for Easter?


A long nap.

7. Cadbury Eggs or Reese Eggs?


Reese's. God invented chocolate and peanut butter to be eaten together. They were one of the pairs Noah had on the ark.

8. What was the last thing/person you took a picture of?

People playing games at the annual spouse hunt (singles conference) with our Sunday school class.

9. What book are you reading now, or what was the last one?

Just finished The Last Song. I was not impressed. It was very cliche ("He loved his kids more than life itself"? Come on, Nick, you can do better than that.), very predictable (Like we couldn't figure out from page 2 the dad was dying and she would finish his song before he checked out.), very boring. Definitely not his best.

10. What do you think is the most difficult task when it comes to Spring cleaning?

 Are we supposed to do that?

11. How many pairs of flip-flops do you own?


Including the dressy silver ones? Four. I love flip flops. They are my dream footwear.

12. Which color makes you happiest?

Yellow. ♫ It's like sunshine ☼ . . . on a cloudy day. ♫ Love the Temptations.

And if you had any idea how long it just took me to figure out how to insert music notes in this post, you would be seriously impressed. And in the process, I also figured out how to make single-character fractions, which has been driving me crazy since I got the Mac. I could only find ½, ¼, and ¾, and seriously, do you know how many recipes I edit that use ⅓?

Dude! There's all kinds of stuff in there! �� and ⍢ and ÷ and ∫ (just in case I ever want to do calculus on my laptop) and ☝and ☂ for when it rains. How cool!

Sorry. I got carried away. OK, gotta go link up at 2nd Cup of Coffee.

Be thankful ~

Karen

I bet your favorite is Bo.

I'm here because I think I need to be, not because I necessarily have anything to say. But here's a cool thing that happened today.

Man-boy and I went to the sporting goods store today for new cleats. He blew out the side seam of his old ones last week, and he's been like an addict without his fix. Shopping for new cleats is only slightly less traumatic for the mother in this family than bathing suit shopping with three teenage girls used to be, but at least we only had to go to one store. He finally decided, and we headed for the checkout.

When we got there, there was one man in front of us. He reminded me of Uncle Jesse from the Dukes of Hazzard.

Anyway, Uncle Jesse was trying to get the girl behind the register to take a card from him. I wondered if I should stick around to witness the harassment, but they were both smiling, so I didn't think it could be too bad. She just kept saying, "No, sir, I can't take it." Finally, he turned to me and thrust a Christmas-themed gift card my way, saying, "Here, you take it. I never come in here and I'll never use it. It's got $13 left on it."

I said, "Are you serious?" and he laughed his way out the door.

He was serious. There really was $13 on the card, so our $60 cleats were only $47. In the words of Rachael Ray, how cool is that?

I always like Uncle Jesse the best.

Be thankful ~

Karen

The post with no purpose, other than to assure you I'm still around to share grandbaby pictures.

I am still alive! Just incredibly busy. I'm trying to work a week's worth of hours ahead, The Old Schoolhouse is publishing a bunch of new things, we have the upcoming Schoolhouse Expo, plus all the regular marketing stuff and Download N Go™ unit studies, and phew! I can't keep up.

Then Saturday comes and there are groceries to buy and shirts to iron and dog hair to vacuum, not to mention the sunshine that needs attention out on the deck. And then there's a cake to make for Sunday school, bills to pay and books to order, metal buildings to research . . . And did I mention I'm about a thousand days behind in my Bible reading? I don't even know where I'm supposed to be right now, but I'm definitely not there—I just finished I Kings last night.

And speaking of I Kings, I saw something new this time through, but it will have to wait until I have time to gather my thoughts into something coherent. I'm trying.

In grandbaby news (because we always need more of that), Sticky Bean is officially crawling and pulling himself up on things. His favorite place to play is in the dirty laundry pile by the washing machine.

Isn't he precious?!

Okay, back to work.

Be thankful ~

Karen

The annual spouse hunt.

Last Friday and Saturday we went to Fairfax for the annual Capital Area Singles Conference. Someone affectionately called it the Capital Area Spouse Hunt, which is more appropriate if you're single. There were unmarried people there from age 16 to 48. We had some incredible meals, heard some really good music, and fantastic preaching by Dr. Jeff Redlin of Front Range Baptist Church in Ft. Collins, Colorado. And we played games. Oh, the games.

On the first night, the main thrust is to get people meeting each other. After all, if you're going to get married, you've gotta meet people, right?

So we started off with the penny game. Everyone gets a bag of 7 pennies coming in the door. Then for about five minutes, you go around meeting folks you don't know and you have to play one of three games with everybody you meet: rock, paper, scissors; thumb wrestling; or flip-a-coin. Whoever wins gets a penny. Whoever loses has to give a penny. At the end, you've met a lot of people, have a really sore thumb, and the winner has the most pennies.

Then we played "Have you ever . . . " Everyone stands up and the MC says something like, "If you've ever (name a thing, like bungee jumping), sit down." He keeps going until you're left with one person who has absolutely no life, and that person wins.

Then came "Do you have . . . " For this game, the people are divided in half and each side chooses a captain. The MC asks for a random thing, and the first team to get it up to the podium wins. Of course Ben was a captain for his team (which was not mine) and totally broke the ice, not to mention his sock. When the MC called for a sock with a hole in it, Ben made one. Except he never does anything halfway, and shredded it. But I got him back when the MC called for the most expensive receipt and I produced it— $452 for my new glasses. Ah, good times.

Saturday was more of the same with great preaching, an awesome brunch, more preaching, and then game time.

This time, we started with the number game. Boy, was I glad I homeschooled my kids! They actually understand place value! Everybody on the team gets two cards, each with a number from 1-10 on it, so there are a few of each number. Then the MC calls out a ridiculously huge number (like 24, 563, 910) and the first team to make that number wins. Sounds easy, right? Try it with 30 people on each team, lots of screaming, MC repeating the number over and over. Our girls were awesome at it.

Then was the dolly/plunger race. Ride an AWANA dolly and propel yourself with a plunger. Again, not nearly as easy as you think.

And finally, The Cat in the Hat. You know, the old story by Dr. Seuss. Everybody sits in a circle and gets a name: Mother, Sally, or Fish. Then one person is chosen to be in the center of the circle and one chair is taken away (so there's always one too few).

Then the MC starts reading the story. When he says your name (Mother, Sally, or Fish), you get up and find another chair. The person in the middle is also trying to get a chair, so someone is left standing. That person costs his team a point, and the story continues.  (It's hard to get a photo of the action. I have a couple of movies, but blogger doesn't like them.)

Try it with a big group sometime. Our kids play this at the Wilds with 700 teens at one time. It's amazing fun! Ben was sore the next day from all the sprinting and smashing into people. Good time. We're looking forward to next year.

It has now taken me three days to write this post. And I'm officially exhausted. Good night.

Be thankful ~

Karen

An update and two grammar lessons.

Well hello! Apparently I have a blog.

Since I can't remember the last time I was here, I'll jump right in with Thursday's happenings, since I have photos to prove (and remind me) what I did.

Abbie and I got up not so bright and early and headed for D.C. Our plan was to see an exhibit of award-winning wildlife photographs at the Museum of Natural History, eat lunch, and come home. We didn't want to get stuck in rush hour traffic coming home. Usually, when we go into the city, we leave home early, drive to Springfield, and get on the Metro. But this day, for whatever reason, we took our time getting out. By the time we got to the Metro station, it was 10 a.m. Knowing there wouldn't be many parking spaces left, we headed for the top deck. When we got there, we found many other cars driving around slowly. There was not ONE space left in the entire garage.

We continued to drive around slowly, up and down levels and rows, trying to figure out what to do. I hate trying to park in the city, and really didn't want to if I could avoid it. But after a solid 20 minutes of driving, we found somebody pulling out and nabbed their parking space. It was a tight squeeze. Where Abbie is standing, there's about 8 inches between our cars.

So we made it to the train, saw the exhibit (awesome!), and then decided it was time for lunch. We called Elijah and had him find us the nearest Chipotle, which was about 8 or 9 blocks away in Chinatown. Mexican food. In Chinatown.

Somewhere along the way we stopped to use a rest room and spotted this sign:

Yes, I'm weird and I take pictures of incorrect punctuation. (FYI, ellipsis points are supposed to have spaces before, after, and between, like this: . . . rather than this: ...   See the difference?)

Friday we spent the morning at home. I worked at my desk with my French doors wide open to the beautiful sunshine and warm air. Abbie worked on an art project for school:

In the afternoon I went for an eye exam. The short story is that my eyes are worse, I'm getting new glasses, and my wallet is $450 lighter. And that's AFTER insurance. But boy, won't it be nice to see?

Friday night and all day Saturday we spent at the Capital Area Singles Conference in Fairfax. (Another FYI: Capital refers to the seat of government; D.C. is the nation's capital. Capitol refers to the building in which the houses of Congress meet.) Had great meals, heard great preaching (Dr. Jeff Redlin from somewhere in Colorado), played great games. We're all exhausted.

And my brain has officially shut down. Good night.

Be thankful ~

Karen

A day in the life. Or two.

 Yesterday, I had a plan. It involved this:

Which is not so bad when you get Man-boy involved. Doesn't this look like a manly, confident arm?

 All I wanted to do was change the closet supply under the kitchen sink (When you have well water and the cold water starts to smell funny, it's time to change the closet supply.) I have the new supply and the teflon tape. I have the 5/8 and the 11/16 wrenches. I've done this before. What can go wrong, right?

Well, for starters, the 5/8 is too small and the 11/16 is too big. Now, if you know anything about fractions and hand tools, you'll quickly figure out that 5/8 is the same as 10/16, which is the next size down from 11/16. There is no wrench between those two.

Houston, we have a problem.

And can we find the adjustable wrench? OF COURSE NOT. That would be WAY too easy. Part of my problem is that I know what tool I need, and I'm not willing to use something different. I want to be able to find the one I WANT.

Enter Man-boy, who is willing to use any tool at all, even if it's ten times too big. He found the biggest pair of channel locks in the garage and finished the job. He has mad plumbing skillz. And he knows how to rescue his mama.

Then today, Man-boy was down at the neighbor's house working, and took Pete the Terrible with him. Pete is not one to hang around watching you mulch flower beds when there are scents to smell, rabbits to chase, and, Ooooo! a squirrel! He is canine ADD in action.

So when Man-boy was finished, he hollered and Pete came running from who-knows-where. Pete came to my room where I was working and flopped down on the floor next to me.

There was no mistaking the oh-snap-what-on-earth-have-you-rolled-in smell. Pete was banished to the laundry room.

But salvation was waiting at the door in the form of Abbie, who actually likes the dog and can't stand to see him in jail. He got a warm bath and sudsy massage when what he deserved was a dunk in the cold river.

Doesn't he look like he's in heaven?

Actually, he's an incredible chicken. He was crying and shaking the whole time, and Abbie was talking to him in a sweet little reserved-for-babies voice. I'm the owner of a 70-pound bulldog who is afraid of getting a bath. *rolling eyes*

How was your day?

Be thankful ~

Karen

Proof that the world needs more editors.

Love my chiropractor, but he needs an editor.

Be thankful ~

Karen

*edited to add: The first word should be "Ensure." To insure is to purchase an insurance policy which pays you money in the event some terrible thing happens. To ensure is to make sure something happens. To ensure I always have a house to live in, I insure Ben's life.  ;o)

Glory to God, there's a bun in my future.

I'm not much for plugging products, but today I'm going to make an exception. I may do it regularly. Then again, I may not. Because I'm decisive that way.

When I got pregnant the first time, I found that my only symptom was my hair falling out in handfuls. I'm talking HANDFULS, so much that it scared me. My doctor assured me it was normal and would stop after I delivered. I wondered if I would be bald by the third trimester.

Sure enough, it stopped a few weeks after delivery. Then on and off through the years, depending on where I was in the five pregnancies, the hair continued to fall out in alarming quantities. When we finally decided to stop procreating, my hair was pretty thin, but I figured at least I still had enough to twist up into a bun when I was old and gray.

Then I turned 40, and shortly thereafter, the big M hit. And oh my word, the shedding! It was more horrifying than ever. I asked hairdressers (they recommend whatever is the most expensive thing on their shelves at the time), doctors (they tell you it's normal and you really won't go completely bald), and even my mother (she was the only honest one, who said, Oh my word, the shedding! At least I got sympathy from her).

Somewhere in there, my three daughters became interested in organic stuff (for varying reasons). One of them tried a new shampoo called Organix and called us to report that her hair stopped falling out (she was pregnant at the time). So of course the other two daughters had to try it and agreed that, yes, the hair stops falling out!

But because I am a slow learner and just don't believe anything that sounds too good to be true can come from Target, I kept using whatever harsh, chemical-laden shampoo I had in the shower. One time my hairdresser asked what kind of shampoo I used. When I told her, she said I should use that for scrubbing the floor.

Finally, when I feared for my future bun, I broke down and bought my own bottles of Organix shampoo and conditioner. The girls were using the vanilla scent. I opted for coconut, since anything that reminds me of a beach smell has to be good.

And . . . I am not even making this up . . . within two weeks my hair almost completely stopped falling out! I used to wind up with a huge handful of hair in the sink after I combed it out, and now there may be 10-15 hairs. I'm not kidding! And I'm not getting paid to say this (although I might inquire about that).

Organix is available at Target and Wal-Mart. In addition to the vanilla and coconut scents, it also comes in tea tree, pomegranate, and shea butter varieties.

Be thankful ~

Karen

I embraced the pot roast!

I have NEVER made a good pot roast. My husband has always raved about his grandmother's pot roast, and I've tried a few times, but never really had success. They were always a little too dry, a little too tough, not enough flavor, not enough juice. And then when Abbie developed her allergy to recombinant bovine growth hormone (rbST), we gave up everything but organic beef.

Have you priced organic beef lately? I get mine at Target, and I can tell you ground organic beef is just shy of $5 a pound. We eat a lot of chicken. I haven't been brave enough to look at the price of a roast.

But now that Abbie is spending most of her time away at college, we get to eat beef now and then.

So last week someone posted a link on facebook to The Pioneer Woman, who was making the rounds of morning television, showing the world how to cook real, cowboy-tested food. On Fox's morning show, she made her famous cinnamon rolls (I haven't tried those yet.). Then on Good Morning America, she made pot roast and mashed potatoes.

And my mouth was watering in spite of my shredded wheat.

So I went out and bought a cast iron Dutch oven, a big'ol chuck roast, and made the pot roast. Here's what it looks like in the pot:

When she says it will be falling apart, she's not kidding. Get a slotted spoon to dish it up. And here's what it looks like on the plate with the carrots, hash brown casserole, and homemade wheat rolls:

Are you drooling? You can read Ree's very entertaining recipe here.

Go. Embrace the pot roast.

Be thankful ~

Karen

I've got to start writing the titles first.

By the time I write the post, I'm too tired to think of one.

My Dove Dark Chocolate Promise wrapper says, "Wear that perfect dress tonight!" As if everybody is going out on the town on a Tuesday night after working all day, homeschooling the 16-year-old, doing an hour of Pilates, and cooking dinner.

So I guess the yoga pants and tie-dyed T-shirt I'm wearing don't count?

Well, the pink mouse has been burning up the mousepad here lately. I'm trying to bank hours ahead of my daughter's spring break next week and an upcoming vaca with hubby. In the meantime, I'm trying to schedule appointments with the eye doctor, dentist, and chiropractor. I need to start a grocery list, I finally got The Granola made (everybody loves me now), and I actually spent an hour sitting on my clean deck in the sunshine today just enjoying the warmth.

Remember when I confessed that I was allergic to almost all makeup? Well I finally broke down and bought the bareMinerals, and so far, so good. I don't seem to be allergic, and I like the way it looks and feels. It doesn't look dry and powdery like so many of the mineral-based ones do. Too bad it doesn't cover gray hair.

And while we're on product reviews, let me tell you that there really is a huge difference in yogurts. We always eat The Granola with yogurt, and Yoplait and Dannon just don't cut it. You've got to get Stoneyfield Farms organic low-fat French Vanilla. It's just the best. Not too sweet, with just a hint of yogurt-y tang. Perfect.

There you go. Yoga pants to yogurt in three paragraphs. It's a gift.

A few recent pictures of Sticky Bean, because what kind of grandmother would I be if I didn't force pictures of the grandbaby on you?

For the record, that's a kitchen sink he's in. Deb's sink has two sides, but the left side is really big and deep. Perfect for babies. She's such a smart mama!

Be thankful ~

Karen

Life is exhausting.

Every day I wake up with grand plans for all I'm going to accomplish, and then life starts.

Radicals in the denominator are too hard to figure out, or electron configurations are on the schedule. Work calls, children text/email with difficulties, husbands go on business trips, or it's 65 degrees and sunny out. How am I supposed to hold up against THAT?

I didn't. I shut the computer, walked away from three loads of laundry waiting to be folded, and went for a 2-mile walk with the dog. Then when I got back, I swept the deck, and that's no small feat. My men have been doing construction on the back of the house all winter (tearing out chimneys and skylights, removing sliding glass doors, installing windows, roofing) and the mess had really built up. There were hardened chunks of sawdust and insulation in between the deck boards, and loads of nails. So I spent the better part of the afternoon cleaning it all up just so I could sit out there for three minutes before I had to make dinner.

It was worth it. Oh, warm sunshine, how I have missed you! I've known for years I suffer from SAD, but this year it seemed to be worse than ever. It may have been compounded by the three feet of snow we had. This was our reality:

But this is what I love:

 

Looking forward to some beach time.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Everything you need to know to stay safe.

Today I went to a self-defense class for women. It was entertaining, and we had fun watching Cindy fight off her attacker from the ground:

Steve Pettit said it years ago at The Wilds, and all of my daughters remember it: Good girls stay home at night.

But in the event you just have to be out at night, by yourself, with no gun or male protection, in a dark, deserted place where no woman should be (what are you thinking??), here's what to do if you're attacked:

Make eye contact. Start yelling. That's yelling in an aggressive way, not screaming in fright. You want to be a fighter, not a petrified victim. Use your claw-hands and go for the eyes. Use the heel of your hand and go for the nose and throat (windpipe). If he can't see or breathe, he can't attack. Use your knee and go for the, um, you know. Don't stop fighting!

That's it in a nutshell.

Just thinking about violence like that might shock you, but wouldn't you like to be known as the woman who fought her attacker and won? I would.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Yes, I did.

I actually bought a pink mouse.

And seriously, why not? Do you wonder why I felt the need to post a picture of it on my blog? Me too.

I used to be the Marilla Cuthbert of mouse shopping. Basic black, no frills. I have no idea when I changed, but there you have it. A cute mouse. Next thing you know, I'll have a cute computer bag.

We found out today that although our car was recovered, the keys were not. I'm not sure how that happens, but that's what we're told. So now we have to have the locks changed. Until then, we have it blocked in the driveway with other cars. Living among thieves is so inconvenient.

Tomorrow I'm going to a self-defense class for women. Should be entertaining. I'll try to get pictures.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Wordless Thursday too.

And just because I've been working like a maniac and have nothing fun to write about:

I could just eat him up! (Ok, so it's not wordless. Fire me.)

Be thankful ~

Karen

Wordless Wednesday: Eating with energy.

Be thankful ~

Karen

A horse with no name. Only it's a post.

I cannot remember the last time I read a blog. I couldn't even remember what I  posted about yesterday (a lot of not much, apparently). I am up (still!) at 10 pm just finishing work. I would have been done hours ago, but ye olde company decided to switch mail servers this past weekend and ye olde email has been getting lost so that ye olde projects that were due yesterday are now floating around in ye olde cyberspace. And that makes for a long night for ye olde editor.

Ok, so since my brain has obviously turned to Silly Putty, I'm going to bed.

Be thankful ~

Karen

A lot of not much.

When we got home from church last night, the answering machine was blinking. That was odd, because everyone we know knows we're at church on Sunday nights and won't be here to answer the phone. But it could have been Leah or Elijah, since they went in a separate car and were coming home later than we. Isn't that an awful lot of thinking to do about one blinking light?

Anyway, Ben was cooking our usual Sunday night dinner of perfect fried eggs and toast, so I sat down at the bar and pressed the "play" button. We immediately heard Mike's voice saying, "Hello?  Helll-ooooo!" and we both groaned that we had missed his call from boot camp. I'm thinking they don't get too many of those. Mike knew we wouldn't be home, but he has to take his opportunities when gets them, so he called and left us a message.

I just knew he was going to hate boot camp. I knew he would suffer through every bit of it. He would especially hate all the being screamed at and whatever other belittling stuff they do to you there. But I figured he would just tough it out and survive.

I could not have been more wrong. In the message he left, he was laughing. Laughing. From boot camp! Basically he said "I'm doing great and having a blast!"

Ben turned around from the stove and yelled, "You're not SUPPOSED to be having a blast! It's BOOT CAMP!" He then proceeded to make all the usual jokes about being in the "Chair Force" and calling it the "service" rather than the military.

In case you don't know, there's quite a rivalry between the branches. Since we are a Navy family (at least we were until Mike joined the AF), we are right about everything, but let me just share some of the barbs here. Navy people are called squids, Air Force people are called zoomies, Coast Guard people are called puddle jumpers. The Navy says people go into the Coast Guard because they can't swim in water deeper than 6 inches. Navy personnel in submarines are called bubbleheads. Marines are called grunts (presumably because that's all they know how to do).

How did I get on this subject? How about a transition-less transition?

In other news, my company switched email servers today and you know how much fun that is. We've all been struggling all day and communicating over facebook. Good old reliable facebook. How did commerce ever happen without it?

And since I use Mac Mail for work, my problems are compounded. Not only do I need to get my email to work, I also need to sync it with Mac Mail. All while proofing a 600+ page E-Book. The fun never ends.

So here I am, getting ready to serve my family dinner at 7 pm, because that's what highly efficient editors do.  We'll try again tomorrow.

Be thankful ~

Karen