2 years ago

2 years ago yesterday...Oct. 27, 2007...we unloaded a moving van and started our life in a new home in a new city. It's not so new anymore. Over the past 2 years we have made it our own. Painted walls. Rearranged furniture. Burned through a couple of coffee pots. Grace has learned to ride a bicycle. Sam has "christened" the carpet...more than once. It feels like home most days...other days I wonder whose life I'm living exactly, I look around and wonder where the time went, and how it went so quickly. I moved here with a 2 1/2 year old...she is now 4 1/2 and quite an amazing little diva of a person. I had one child when we rolled our mini-van into the garage for the first time, one car seat in the back, one set of feet kicking the back of my seat. Now, there are two children...two car seats...two sets of liddle feet kicking the back of my seat. I didn't know a soul when I walked into a church on 96th and North Oak...now? Oh...now...I love walking into the lobby of MY church, smelling the rich smell of java, and seeing the faces of many smiling friends. I could blog all day about what has changed in two years...seriously, I could put you to sleep...but I won't...I'll just leave you with one more thing that has changed, grown, evolved....2 years ago, Earl and I set off an adventure together. Like Tom Petty says "into the great wide open...under the skies of blue" It was his idea to venture out like this. To change jobs. To change locations. To change our life. But I can honestly say, I'm really glad he had the idea. We've spent some (okay a lot) of time apart. We've learned to cherish the time together. We've been through the fire and come out stronger.

A little late...but as promised...

....What exactly I did with all those apples we picked a few weeks ago...

I made pie....

and apple butter...

As a child, I grew up alongside some of the best cooks in Cherokee county...the ladies I'm referring to were known throughout the small town that I grew up in as "the source" for great food--Beth and Mary Anne. You could smell the deliciousness brewing in their homes before you even walked in the door. Your mouth watered every time someone mentioned their name. These ladies are legends. Beth is best known for her light, flaky, melt-your-mouth pie crust, and the mere utterance of the name "Mary Anne" has me dreaming of creamy, sweet apple butter. I have Beth's pie crust recipe, so naturally when we came home with a FULL peck of apples, I knew exactly which pie crust I would make. But I don't have Mary Anne's apple butter recipe. So I called my momma...and she told me to go directly to the source and promptly gave me Mary Anne's phone number. I pulled out my pen and pencil, dialed the phone, and when she picked up the other end of the line, I introduced myself by my maiden name. I wasn't sure she would remember who I was if I used my married name. But she did know my married name and was more than happy to share her "recipe" for apple butter with me. As it turns out she doesn't really use standard measurements or even recipes. It's a "little of this" and a "little of that"...or "add Cinnamon to your tastes, but don't add too much cause it can overpower the apple butter"...oh, my! Can you imagine the toll this took on little ol' OCD me?? But after about 45 minutes on the phone with Mary Anne and many extensive questions on my part, I found myself smack dab in the middle of making apple butter. Which turns out to be quite easy and fun...albeit a lesson in patience, but I'm sure I'm due up for a lesson in patience. Did you know it takes 3 days to make apple butter?? 3 days! That's right. You leave it on the stove and let it simmer for about 1-2 hours each day, then after it simmers, you turn the burner off and let it sit...just sit...I had a bit of a problem with the germ factor considering that food was sitting on the stove for days on end. But Mary Anne assured me (more than once) that I was in the clear and that my apple butter would not turn into apple beer. So in 6 days...I made two batches...5 jars of delicious creamy apple butter...LOVE it!

But let's go back to the pie for a bit, shall we??

I borrowed this nifty little contraption from my friend Bryna. It peels, slices, and cores an apple in a little under 3 minutes. Seriously. I want to kiss the person who invented it.

See look it takes the peel off in one loooooong string...absolutely amazing...ah-ma-zing.

Here are the "guts" of my apple pie.

And here is the finished product right before I put it in the oven.

And 35 minutes later...ding...the pie was done. Boy did it smell delicious!

And it tasted fantastic! I even ran a couple of pieces over to my neighbor's house...even though it was 10pm! Had to share the bounty!!!

I was pleasantly surprised with the results of my apple en devours. I totally appreciate the cooking gurus of my past even more...and look upon them with the greatest respect! Thanks to Mary Anne and Beth for passing down your timeless recipes so that I might share them with my family. But if I see another apple in the next month or two, I might just throw it at someone...one peck of apples is enough for this girl.

Oh Sam...

Sweet...silly...Sam...



I had no idea...



Even if someone tried to tell me...I'd still have had no idea...

What joy you would bring to my life...

Sweet...

Silly...

Sam

"...She named him Samuel, saying, "Because I asked the LORD for him." 1 Samuel 1:20

Preschoolers and pumpkins

Grace's preschool class went on a field trip to Pumpkins Etc. Yah, that's the real name of the place...I don't make this stuff up, people. And it truly WAS Pumpkins Etc. There were, of course, pumpkins, and then there was the "etc"...meaning....

in numerous cats and kittens,

("NO Grace...we absolutely cannot take 'just one' home with us...NO Lance (our resident cat) does not need a friend...NO! Stop squeezing the kitten! He doesn't want kisses....oh just put the poor animal DOWN!!")

beautiful potted mums,

grass and hay mazes,

**And...just for clarification...the hay maze was meant to be walked through, not on. The kids, however, were itching to climb onto of those huge bales of hay and practice their balancing (and falling) skills...All the parents said "no"...but Mrs. Sheri (Grace's teacher) hopped right up on a ginormous bale of hay and lead the way. Very quickly a trail of 4 year olds joined her. THIS is the very moment I fell in love with my daughter's Pre-K teacher...**

and a really amazing old farmer man by the name of Bob (sorry, I didn't get a pic of Farmer Bob) Bob taught the kids a lot about the different types of pumpkins and squash...heck, he taught me a lot about pumpkins and squash. It was a very informative trip...for both mom and daughter. Did you know that loofah sponges come from SQUASH!? No...for real...they do. Amazing. We had a great time. Grace picked her very own 4 year old sized pumpkin (the band-aid on her forehead is from an injury involving a flying toy courtesy of baby brother)

And I picked MY very own 40lb pumpkin. Get this...the place had a "dent and ding"

section...Except they called it "tired and weary pumpkins"...some had missing stems, others had a small rotten place...they weren't "pretty" but they were cheap. $1!!!! I couldn't pass it up, I picked one with a small rotting place in the back, otherwise it was very beautiful...so if you stop by our house, don't miss the very LARGE pumpkin on the front porch.

We had a fantastic time. We learned a lot. We walked away with, yah know, pumpkin's....etc....

Bwahahahahahaha

Bringing back an old favorite...


Ya might wanna pee before watching this one...


I'm just saying...


Cause sometimes...


when I watch it...


I laugh so hard I almost pee my pants....


almost.....



Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing


Oh Earl...you're the funniest part of this video...

Wordless Wednesday

This blog is titled "Smile as big as you can"

So...let's smile a bit, shall we??

And there's no better way to get you to crack a smile than (is this correct grammar?? I really can't tell...please someone tell me if it's not right) to show you pictures of the nutty children I live with...

dressed in footie pajamas....

Ah yes...the arrival of fall ushers in orange/red/yellow leaves, hearty soups and chili, the freakish smell of the heater kicking on for the first time (which, strangely, I LIKE and look forward to), and--if you have tiny humans living among you--warm, snugly, fleecy footie pajamas....

Ahh...they feel so soft, so warm, dare I even say delicious...make a girl wanna do back-flips off her brother's crib....

Well...unless...of course, you're the baby brother being held against your will...

Nothing says "snuggle" like a screaming 18 month old...in footie pajamas...

Maybe he'll like them next year...

**Please say nothing of my 4 1/2 year old having a binky...we're working on it...we're working on it. But seriously, have you MET this child?? So stubborn...I have no idea where she got it...absolutely no idea.**

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss month...the 15th--today--is a day set aside to remember. In June of 2003, Danny and I mourned the loss of our first child. I was 12 weeks pregnant, almost out of my first trimester and looking forward to less morning sickness and more baby "bump"...we went in for a routine appt and an ultrasound revealed that we had lost the baby. Warmly curled in my womb...the teeny-tinest baby...arms, legs...but no heartbeat. It was devastating. We learned a lot...we cried a lot...we were mad at God. The range of emotions is difficult to put into words. I really don't feel prepared to write about it just now....but if you read this blog at all, you know that we went on to have Grace and Sam...two perfect children that I praise God for everyday. Amazing children....gifts really...Thank you Lord for my babies. All three of them.

I have many friends (both in the real world and the "blog" world) who have lost children. It is an aspect of this cruel world that I often struggle with, children dying before their parents...it is a mystery of God and I have found that it is impossible to understand. I want these friends--known and unknown (there are several blogs I follow--Gabe and Jonah's blog, Ayden's blog, Caden and Rigg's blog--and I have never actually met the women behind the stories....but they have AMAZING testimonies. Stop by their blog sometime and let them know you are praying for them)--but I want them all to know...I will remember their children. They will not be forgotten. And I will do my best to praise God in the storm....

Apple Picking

Saturday morning we went to Alldrede Orchards with the Parenting Group from our church! It. was. cold. There's no sugaring coating it! COLD! However, I just don't think apple picking woulda been apple picking if it weren't cold....

...but I'm not a Kansas City rookie anymore folks. Nope. I KNOW how to dress for cold weather, and I know--more importantly--how to dress my children for cold weather. The first year we moved here, I was not prepared for the snow and cold that would define our fall/winter here. But it's been almost two years now, and our cold weather/snow gear supply is more than adequate! Long underwear, wool sweaters, flannel lined jeans, snow boots, and hats that cover your ears...we are ready...

I've never been apple picking before (unless you count the apple tree in our front yard when I was growing up...mom made us go out and pick up the rotten apples--do you know that WASPS like rotten apples??...yes they do...ewwww and ouch) The orchard is only about 15 minutes from our house, down a beautiful country road. The trees are just magnificant this time of year, I thought Danny might wreck the car trying to drive and enjoy the scenery all at once! Alldredge farm was started in the 1960's....you find the history here. There are chickens EVERYWHERE...apparently chickens like apples too...who knew? And they are NOT scared of little children...infact, I do believe little children should be scared of them. Freaky little creatures (the chickens, not the kids).

They gave us a nifty apple picking thingy (I'm sure it has a "proper" name...) to pick the apples from the tippy tops of the apple trees. It worked really well...once we figured out how to use it. Although once or twice we'd select one apple to pick, reach up with the picker thingy, tug and wiggle, and tug and wiggle to get one apple out of the tree and half a DOZEN apples would come raining down on us...too much tugging and wiggling I suppose. It's a fine science...took us (err...Danny--I preferred to pick apples right within my reach...not really a fan of fruit dropping so close to my head) a few tries to perfect it. I guess it was bound to happen--all that dropping fruit--look how heavily laden with apples this tree is!!! I think these are Fuji apples...

Danny with the picker thingy...

Grace was in charge of the basket (until it got too heavy) and so Danny would pick and Grace would retrieve. A match made in heaven. (note the ever present chicken in the background...)

The orchard was BIG! We just kept walking and picking...Before I realized it our "half peck" of apples, became a FULL "peck"...that's a LOT of apples. And a lot of walking.

So we took a break in an apple cart to sample our treasures. They were delicous apples...dripping with juice and full of flavor.

Sam was cold...he hates being cold. But he likes food. As soon as he got a grip on that apple he wasn't letting go. His theory? "If I have to freeze like this, you people better give me some food"...He ate about half of the apple. Which is quite a lot, seeing as it was about the size of his head.

After picking our fair share of apples, we picked a pumpkin, and then made our way to the bakery for some hot cider and cookies. I had packed a picnic lunch to enjoy at the orchard, but it was just too cold to sit outside and dine. So we headed home, spread a blanket out on the living room floor, and had the coziest picnic lunch I do believe I've ever been a part of (the below picture was taken with the camera's timer...notice how intently Sam is looking into the camera. He's watching the blinking light--note to self: you can get the baby to stop crying and look at the camera when you use the "self timer" mode)...what a fun day. And we have an entire peck of apples to show for it...

A post to come soon explaining WHAT exactly I did with all those apples...

Circle of Life

...no...I'm not talking about death...I'm talking about life. It goes in circles. Things that "go around" often do, in fact, "come around". Call it karma, tell me you're "paying it forward", you can even "blame it on the rain" (but please don't lip sinc) whatever you call it--it is evident to me that we are definitely in this life together. And as my momma told me in an email earlier today "God likes circles"...I am inclined to agree with her, esp. as I get older. The REASON my mom talked about "circles" was because I called her to get the name of the sweet old lady that lived at the top of the culdesac where I grew up. I called to get this woman's name because two days ago my life came full circle (in a small way, of course but in the sweetest small way)...
You see, WE (my husband, two children, and I) now live in a culdesac much like the one I grew up in. A culdesac FILLED with children. And every afternoon, after school lets out and Grace wakes up from nap (or pretending to nap...) these small children spill out of their homes, climb upon the nearest wheeled toy, and play until Daddy comes home or the sun goes down (whichever comes first). One of these children is named Brooke. She was mentioned in another one of my recent blogs titled "We're off like a herd of turtles". I've met her parents...once. She comes out to play alone. She is an only child. And her bike riding skills have MUCH improved since the last post when I talked about her doing more falling than actual pedaling. On a side note: It's amazing to me how quickly children pick up on the "no training wheels" thing. One day they're wobbling down the street and the next they're zooming in and out of other children like they've been doing it for years. ANYWAY...Brooke doesn't wear a helmet. This worries me. Like my daddy says "you don't get do overs" and I just worry sick about Miss Brooke and her bare head. (Don't you worry though, I'm searching garage sales for one...but if you have a nice helmet that would fit a 1st grader, you can pass it my way) Like I mentioned before...I don't see much of Brooke's parents. But I see a lot of Brooke. So, two days ago...school let out, naps were over, the air was crisp and cool, and children spilled out of their homes. Among them was Brooke and her bike...she zoomed up and down the street. Fast then slow then fast again. The kids raced and swerved, stopped then started. I love living in my culdesac. I love the sound the children make. It is music. But suddenly, in the middle of the "music" there were tears, and crying, and WAILING. Yep...Brooke fell OFF her bike. Don't worry, she's okay. But it hurt and it was scary and she was going fast. I ran over. Scooped her up off the pavement. Inspected the wounds (invisible to the adult eye, but VERY much real to the 7 year old). Hugged. Patted. Reassured. Hugged again. Righted the bike. Told her she needed a helmet. Hugged...again. Said something about her being a "rockstar" and then helped her climb BACK on the back and join in the "music" once again. And as she rode off...there I stood. Thirty years old. Yet in my mind...7 again. And my left knee began to burn. I almost LOOKED at it. You see, when I was about Brooke's age, I fell off MY bike. In MY culdesac. I scraped my knee (the scar is still there 23 years later--it was summer and I was in shorts). I think I cried. I DO remember sitting on the pavement...well, I think I was more crumpled on the pavement. And out of her house...came my neighbor. (and here's the part I had to call my mom for, and the part where she asked "why" and I told her THIS story and she talked about "circles" and God) Her name was Maralene (did I spell that right mom?). She scooped ME up. Hugged. Inspected. Reassured. Hugged again. Got a cold towel for the scraped up knee. Gave me an ice cream sandwich. I don't think she said ANYTHING about my being a "rockstar"...but my memory is fuzzy, I could be wrong :) Righted my bike and sent me on my way (And again...don't worry 'bout the helmet deal. I wasn't wearing a helmet either...but that was 23 years ago, and we're smarter now so I'll find one for Brooke).
Yep...full circle. In even the smallest of ways...the smallest and the sweetest. I love my culdesac. And I love the music of the children that live there. You're right momma...God loves circles.