Archive | June, 2011

My Way of Saying Thank You

30 Jun

There are so many great blogs, I often wonder why you bother to read mine.

Today, I just want to say Thank You for reading, for putting up with my way to lame photos, for laughing at my jokes that aren’t very funny, for listening to me whine and complain, and for always being there with an encouraging word.

You’re the best blog readers ever!

Because I like you so much, I want to take a minute and share some of the awesome posts I’ve read recently.  Unfortunately I always have a difficult time going back and finding one of your posts that I knew I should’ve saved somewhere.  One day I’ll learn to bookmark them.

Until then, be inspired by some awesome bloggers.

I love this video by Whatever.  She’s so very creative.   She said she thought this had a Wonder Years feel and she’s absolutely right.

These are my two absolutely beautiful nieces.  The little girl with the white flower and bow in her hair is not my niece.  The other two most certainly are, and I miss them.

Here’s a post on how to look like a Diva everyday.  I never knew how much I needed undershirts until I read this post.

Here’s an interesting post from The Coffee House on What Men Want.

I’ve recently found this blog and I love it.  Her children are beautiful and she takes the best pictures.  It’s called Enjoying The Small Things.  Go visit.

Here’s a pretty post On Staying Home and Sweet Summer.

Megan shared some really good advice for Ministry Newbies.

Lisa from Woman Wielding Words (she sometimes links up to Fiction Friday) has decided to publish her book via Kindle.  Congrats Lisa!

This is a fashion blog.  At least once a week I find myself clicking over to see what Kendi wore.  I don’t think girls ever outgrow playing dress-up.

You may want to buy a bunch of berries and try this pound cake recipe.  It makes my taste buds jump for buttery joy.

Have you ever visited Flower Patch Farmgirl?  If you haven’t, rush right over.

Deb from Loyalist Cottage needs a bit of design help.  Her dining room chairs are crying for fabric and she’s taking suggestions.  If you’ve got an eye for style, go help her. 

The Pioneer Woman has the funniest photography contest going on.  You must see these pictures.  You’ll laugh hysterically. I’m linking to Group 1, but you’ve gotta take a minute and look through all the groups.  People are seriously funny.

Thanks for all the work you bloggers put into your posts.  I know it’s not always easy to pump out fabulousness everyday, but somehow you manage.  Keep up the good work!

I am the victim of a drive-by cashing.

28 Jun

This morning after tennis lessons…

Don’t you love how ‘tennis lessons’ makes it seem like I’m living an extraordinarily luxurious life, throwing dinner parties and garden teas and all?

It’s mirage.  Unless dinner parties include extra-large red plastic cups and paper plates?  Then, by all means, I am the portrait of high society.

Continuing with my story…I stopped by the house to raid the change bucket for half-and-half money.  I desperately needed a cup of coffee, even if it was decaf, but I’m a total coffee snob.  I just can’t drink coffee without cream.  Low-fat milk is unacceptable and skim milk is an insult to my morning mouth.  Fringeman is to blame for making me a cream and sugar addict.

What can I say?

Sign me up for an anonymous class.

Because Tuesday is not Monday and the clouds happened to align in the shape of a bleeding heart, FringeMan drove through our street just as I was about to walk up the stairs.  He hung a twenty out the window and told me to get gas.  It was a drive by cashing.  I must admit, I do love when my man waves money at me.

After piling the kids in the car, I deliberated on whether I could drive the extra five blocks to get half-and-half without first getting gas.  Coffee was definitely the priority.  Since our gas gauge is broken and I probably guess mileage like I guess the balance in my checking account, I drove directly to the gas station where I proceeded to make my son pump my gas.

Call this post Confessions of a Diva, because I never pump my own gas.  Now ladies, take a chill-pill.  I already hear the tsk-tsk in your voice.  I embrace the age of equal rights, voting privileges, and the option of climbing the corporate ladder.  I just hate the smell of gas on my hands.  Besides, FringeMan really is a gem.  He usually always thinks to check my car for gas.  It’s probably easier than fetching me at two o’clock in the afternoon when I’ve broken down in front of the grocery store.  Regardless, FringeMan is my knight with five gallons of gas.

Hmmm…that probably didn’t sound right.

I’ve been married for nearly fourteen years.  Yes, I was a child bride.  Now I am twenty-eight.  And one half.

Fourteen years ago pay-at-the-pump wasn’t so popular, and since I would drive ten miles out of my way to find a full-service gas station, I rarely operated the very technical and highly confusing pumps with glowing lights and buttons.  Some of them even talk to you.  Heaven forbid.  People do not speak to me before I’ve had my coffee.  Imagine the irritation a talking pump would cause?

Let me just blurt out my twenty-eleven faux pas  – I could not get the pump to work.

A nice man rescued me, and then he helped the old woman behind me.  I didn’t feel so bad after I saw granny having difficulty.  After all, she’s got years of experience on me.

I got my gas.

I got my half-and-half.

I wasn’t  really a child bride.

I most certainly am twenty-eight.

The End.

You can all take a collective sigh of relief and wonder why I bother to recount the minutiae of my day.

I have no answers.  Now excuse me while I go lounge by the pool and eat bon-bons.

You probably shouldn’t believe everything I say.

Today Won’t Make Room for Boredom

27 Jun

I remember being bored when I was a child.   Now I only use boredom as an excuse to ignore my ‘to-do’ list; however, my children delight in telling me they’re bored.  Just ask them.

Today is different.  Today will not make room for boredom.   It’s the first Monday of full summer.  Everyone is out of school, summer programs began, and the city pool opened.

This little girl…

woke me up at six-thirty in the morning to go play tennis.  Fully dressed and carrying her racket, she shook my eyes open.

Lessons did not begin until nine, but an early bird hits the tennis ball, or something like that.

My neighbor rescued my children from a sit-and-wait in the doctor’s office and brought them swimming in the afternoon.  Believe me, I would rather have been swimming.  Doctor’s appointments for female check-ups are just above death on my bucket list and right below an IRS tax audit, even though my doctor is sweet as pie.

Tennis before lunch and swimming after lunch may become our summer schedule.  I think I could live with that.

Now I just hope the sun and clouds cooperate.  Secretly I wish for a summer drought.  Isn’t that terrible?  I wish we could somehow truck gallons and gallons of our extra water to the south and west.  I know others need it, but rainy days and migraines have me down.

Not down, down.  Don’t worry.

I’m just running low on rainy day ideas.  Friday found me with four children, one migraine, and four zillion drops of water.  I popped a few pills and plopped in a chair to wait for my vision to clear.  Then I decided an art project was in order.  Directing four kids in an art project may seem like a bad idea when you have a migraine, but the alternative is listening to the very loud sounds of four children amusing themselves.

Painting it was.

Nobody really followed my directions, but there are times not to care.

My son’s masterpiece won him a framed spot of honor over my kitchen counter.

And because I run an equal opportunity gallery…

Please excuse the fact that I didn’t clean the counter off for the photo.  I’m messy like that.

I love displaying the paintings in my kitchen.  It needs a burst of life and my cooking sure isn’t all rainbows and color.

I asked my kids if there were any grown-ups in the pool today.

“No, just lots of kids.”

Exactly as I suspected.  The water is probably a warm forty-eight degrees.   I better get a heated wet suit if I plan on swimming.

One last picture, because I’m silly like that.

On Saturday, I sent my daughter upstairs to clean her room.  When I walked into her room a little while later, ordered chaos greeted me.

My heart gave a little everythingisamess flutter, but then I remembered.  My room looked just like hers when I was a kid, and I loved every little piece of junk.

So live happy FringeKid.

One day you’ll be all grown-up and realize you’re wearing tacky tropical.  You’ll look at your own daughter’s mix-and-match mess and realize she’s going to grow up to be just like you.

Here’s to boring summer days playing tennis and sitting by the pool.  May there be many.

PS. Thank you Chris at Bridgesburning for your kinds words today.

My Meeting with an Angelic Serial Killer

26 Jun

Shared on Facebook by thisblessednest.blogspot.com, via Pintrest.

One day last week when the sun was shining, I poured a glass of lemonade and headed outside with my two kids.  Public school was still in session, so the neighborhood was moderately peaceful.  The older woman across the street just brought her two yapping, fluffy balls of fur inside.  The neighbors on either side of us were in work.  I plopped into one of my two green, plastic Adirondack chairs sitting in my front lawn and my son took the other.  My daughter opted to play with her miniature horses on the porch.

I hadn’t really noticed him until he was right in front of us, but Fred (I’ve changed his name to protect the innocent, and because I cannot remember his real name.) suddenly appeared on the sidewalk directly in front of my house.  He glanced over and I called out a greeting because I’m friendly like that.  “Hello” was all the invitation Fred needed.  Before I knew what was happening, we were in a lengthy conversation about nothing.

Fred is a city worker.  He was walking home after a long, hot day at work, at least he was wearing the tell-tale reflective vest that confirmed he worked for the city.  However, he could have also been a serial killer or an angel.  I’m still not sure which.

He held up his empty plastic bottle, saying that he drank up all the Gatorade during work, and then he asked if he could have some water.

Clearly the man was hot.  Sweat poured down his face.  It was around eighty degrees that afternoon, bake-in-the-sun kind of weather for us ice-dwellers.  I told my son to bring his Gatorade bottle into the house and fill it with cold water.

Fred was happy.

He kept talking.

He seemed like a simple man, harmless enough, but yet a little part of my brain thought he would make a perfect serial killer.  As he chatted, I plotted the scenario in my head and filed it away for a book idea.

Fred – the simple middle-aged man who lived in town all his life.  Everyone knew him and his family.  Over time, all of his family passed away, and now Fred lives alone in his house up on the hill.  When he’s not working for the town, he’s tinkering around with his backhoe.  He sure does love digging holes with that backhoe, has ever since we could remember.  Nobody worries about Fred being a little different, after all he’s harmless, or so they all thought until women began going missing.

I hate that my mind thinks like this.  I really do.

Since I’m not dead, Fred’s not a serial killer in real life.

Or is he?

He could have been that angel the Bible talks about in Hebrews 13:2, “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”

I wonder what would have happened if I didn’t say hello.  Would I have missed the opportunity, however small, to do something as unto the Lord?  Maybe entertain an angel?

I could be wrong, but I think that verse is as true today as it was in Bible times.

In reality, Fred was probably just a thirsty city worker.  I did my good deed for a fellow human and a far neighbor.  I’ve been thinking though…it’s a terrible thing when I start thinking.  I’ve already told you about the serial killer thoughts…

The Bible talks a lot about giving to the poor.  I think the verses that reference the “poor” are talking about financially poor, those without money or resources to care for themselves.  I believe God calls his followers, those who believe Jesus’ teachings, to meet the needs of the poor.  I don’t think it’s the government’s job to care for the poor through welfare and special assistance programs; I think caring for the poor is the churches’ responsibility.  I believe that’s Scriptural, although I’m not taking the time to list every single Scripture reference.

Sometimes the people who warm the church pews on Sunday are the ones complaining the loudest on Monday.  We bash the government and their programs; however, the government wouldn’t need their programs if we pew-sitters were doing our jobs.

I’m a pew-sitter too, so don’t take offense.

I’ve given food from my freezer, made meals, and gifted my money, but have I missed other opportunities?  Probably.  Am I doing all I could be doing, all God expects of me?  I doubt it.

On a whole, as a universal church (a worldwide body of believers), I don’t think we’ve done enough.

It’s not only financial.  I truly believe some people are poor in areas that have nothing to do with finances.  There are those that are poor in spirit, poor in truth, poor in understanding.  I’m not trying to read more into the Bible than what is said, it’s just that the gears in my noggin have been turning.  It’s God’s plan for us to pour ourselves into others, both financially and in other ways.

Sometimes I just get so busy judging people for the stupid choices that got them into their predicaments, that I hold back the blessing of meeting their needs.  I think this is true for most of us.

Did you know the Bible says that if someone has a need and we can fill, we are commanded to fill that need?

Luke 6:27-31  But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you, Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you. And unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloke forbid not to take thy coat also.  Give to every man that asketh of thee; and of him that taketh away thy goods ask them not again. And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.

Proverbs 21:13  Whoso stoppeth his ears at the cry of the poor, he also shall cry himself, but shall not be heard.

Proverbs 28:27  He that giveth unto the poor shall not lack: but he that hideth his eyes shall have many a curse.

It’s a radical idea, even for those of us who say we believe.

Fred, the angelic serial killer, told us about a DVD he plucked from the trash that morning.  Could I believe it has a case and everything?  My children, rightfully wary of this stranger, looked at me with a smile.  They would have rescued that Chipmunks DVD themselves.

The truth is, I hope I don’t see Fred again when I’m home alone.  He was a little too odd for my comfort, and you know I have a overactive imagination.  I just pray I’ll take other opportunities, big and small, to spend myself on another.

You never know when you will entertain a stranger unawares.  How many do we overlook?

There are those who need little more than a few minutes of our time and maybe a glass of water.

Those are my thoughts on this Sunday.

I’ll beg if I need to.

25 Jun

I’m psyched about the Summer Series being hosted right here on The Domestic Fringe.  Beginning July 18th (the same day as my kids start camp :-p),  a group of amazing women bloggers have agreed to be my guest and share their fabulous and sometimes quirky personalities with us.  I can’t wait!

Lake 15 View 2

Photo courtesy of The Charming Tyrants

I don’t like to drop names, but this lineup includes women from blogs like Flower Patch Farmgirl, Whatever, Faith Like Mustard, Remodel This Life, Mama’s Minutia, Jill Boyd’s Place, Broken Poet, and a few I’m still working on.  They will be tackling topics ranging from Summer Fun to Summer Kid Art, Summer Faith, Summer Funnies, Summer Fashion, Summer Simple, and Summer Food.

Seriously, if you almost never read my blog, start reading on July 18th!  You won’t be sorry.

Since I need a theme picture for my Summer Series, I asked you to submit a photo that epitomized ‘summer’ to you.  I figured I’d post the photos and let you vote on a winner.

Now a certain woman in cow-girl boots, who will remain unnamed, but lives on a ranch, writes cook books, and has the most famous blog ever, asks for photos and gets thousands.  I ask and I get three.  Thank you Sydney!

What am I, chopped liver?

Don’t answer that.

But seriously, don’t you have a picture to share?  I know you bloggers are also pretty extraordinary photographers.  At least you’re better than I am.

The only requirements for the photo is that it MUST be something summery.  The rest is left to your imagination.  So, send all photos via email to {Tricia9199 at yahoo dot com}.

I will accept photos until July first.  After that, I will post the five best photos and we’ll vote.  Spread the word around.  Anyone can enter and you’ll get full credit for the photo (with links) every time I use it.

Don’t make me have to put on  cow-girl boots and cook for you!

You ever taste my cooking?

Why I know Skype was Not Invented by a Woman

24 Jun

Good morning Friday.  I’m glad to see you; however, I would prefer your sunny smile to your sad, gray mood.  We are wet with your tears.  No need to be sad.  It’s officially summer, and we need your warmth.  Our southern friends are bragging of your goodness, your smiling face, and the warm golden glow you give them whenever you are near.  That’s what we want – to sit at your feet and bask in your rays, to speckle with freckles after your visit.  So dry off your tears, try a smile on, and spend a little time happy in our presence.  We’ll thank you.

Happy Friday!

I know today is Fiction Friday, and I hope you’ll excuse me, but I have no fiction for you.  Although I have ninety pages of fiction complete, a little over 17,000 words, I really have nothing to share.  It’s choppy, too rough of a draft.  It needs red marks and slashes, rewrites, and thought-filled words.  It needs time, an editor, and perhaps a different writer.

Not counting the three paragraphs I wrote last night, the truth is I haven’t written anything on my work in progress in two weeks.  I lost my mojo, my creative edge, my ability to think.  My mind is all mumble-jumbled and nothing good is cranking out when I boot her up.

Do you ever have times like that?

Maybe it’s an end of the school year slump.  After getting the last of my homeschool paperwork in the mail yesterday, I finally feel like I’m finished.

Yippeeee!!!

One of these days soon, I’m going to post a review of my curriculum – what I liked and what I wouldn’t use again.  I knew my kids were accomplishing much this year, but I hadn’t realize how much until I sat down to write an end of the review.  No wonder we are all thrilled to see summer.

Yesterday was one of those days that make me long to lounge by a swimming pool with sunscreen in my nose and sleep on my mind.  I woke early, ready to tackle my to-do list.  First up was my end of the year reports.  I could have avoided this by purchasing achievement tests for my kids and submitting their results, but honestly, two month ago I didn’t have the extra fifty or seventy bucks I needed.  So I opted to list, in great detail, every single little thing we covered this year.  My-oh-me, but I’m tired.

I set up on the kitchen table with my computer, piles of books, and a cup of coffee.  Graphs were filling with bullets and words and then the phone rang.  An ordered home can turn to chaos the minute a mother says “Hello.”

I honestly think ringing phones spark some neurological disconnect in children’s brains.  The once quiet and content child, now schemes brilliant and destructive plans.  Their little bodies mobilize.  By the time you’ve greeted the caller, the children have spilled a gallon of milk, knocked over a glass vase full of slimy water with mostly dead flowers, and let the dog loose to run haphazardly through the neighborhood.  With each bark, a neighbor’s scream pierces your mind and you can no longer think straight.  The person on the other end of your call begins to worry.

“Are you ok?  Is everything all right at home?”

You smile, despite your inner desire to lock your children in the bathroom for the rest of the day with nothing but a box of cheesy goldfish and a single cup to catch tap water.

Let’s face it, they don’t even need the cup.  In all reality, they’ll probably find a way to slurp toilet water, even though there’s a sink hanging on the wall behind them.  Children are like that.

My dear friend called, upset because tests concluded that her little girl is mostly deaf.  My heart broke for her and at the same time I knew God would do amazing things through this little girl.  Hearing loss would not stop her from becoming an amazing young woman, but a momma’s heart hurts at her child’s suffering.

My heart hurt as I watched my own daughter spill a bottle of nail-polish remover all over my nearly complete school paperwork.  I didn’t care that my vintage tablecloth was saturated with a color remover.  After all maybe it would fade the rocket ship drawn in permanent marker.

No such luck.  Sharpies are permanent, despite an acetone bath.

My table wasn’t so fortunate.  My daughter’s cup-half-full view on life said, “At least there’s white paint under the green?”

Yes, white, wood, and green swirls across table-tops are the new rage.  You must try it in your house.  I’ll send my kids to help!

I threw the soaked and smelly tablecloth out the back door into the rain-soaked grass.  It was the best option at the time.  My kids threw books and papers from the table, assuring me in their most confident voices that the papers did not get wet.

All this time I was on the telephone having a meaningful conversation with a lifelong friend.  This is precisely why I do not like Skype.  I mean, really?  Skype was not created by mothers.

My papers did not escape sudden destruction.  The few I salvaged have ink smudges and the distinct smell of having lived in a nail salon.  I hope the Superintendent of Schools won’t notice.

He’s a man.  My luck he’ll probably call hazmat on suspicion of a toxic substance, no doubt sent by a terrorist, homeschooling, mother of two.

So today I am glad for Friday, for no school, for the onset of summer vacation.  I do hope to see sunshine, but right now I’m welcoming my sad, teary-eyed Friday with open arms.

Forgive me for no fiction, but really, truth is always better than fiction anyway.

Love you all,

Here is Mr. Linky, in case some of you have your lives in order and are bubbling with creative masterpieces. I’d love to read your work and thank you for linking. :-)

The Spiders are Stalking Me

23 Jun

I wanted to make this a long and meaningful post, but my ‘to do’ list is growing and some things cannot wait, like my end of the year reports due in my school district’s offices tomorrow.  I did mention I was a procrastinator, didn’t I?

I rather like to think I work well under pressure.

My son declared his desire to become a Montrologist.

Monstrologist:  A person who studies monsters.

At eleven, I guess that’s better than saying he wants to become a gynecologist.  He could become an arachnologist and he wouldn’t even have to leave home.  Over the past week, we’ve had some the largest spiders I have ever seen come out for a visit.  I’m assuming they live in our basement, because they don’t come out until nighttime when everything is peaceful and mostly dark.  I’m getting a little freaked out.  Remember I grew up watching the Brady Bunch, and we all remember when Greg woke up to a tarantula on his chest.  It is my worst nightmare.  Well, one of them.  My imagination tends to overreact.

So since this is Thankful Thursday, I’ll just jot down a sampling of my list without the fancy and fanfare.  I’m linking to Thankful Thursday at Grace Alone.

  • a surprise gift in the mail
  • a battery handed to me by a complete stranger when my camera died in the middle of a parade, before my children marched
  • laughter
  • looking at Cake Wrecks in the bookstore and making my husband laugh out loud.
  • opportunities God gives me
  • a bag of clothes for $5
  • a walk in the sunshine
  • watching my kids play in the park
  • frozen chocolate milk
  • provisions for today
  • a pen-pal for my daughter
  • remembered verses
  • a chance to share the Gospel
  • plans for summer

Ok, I said this was going to be short, but I must tell you…my daughter has a new pen-pal.  When we went up to Maine last month, she was reacquainted with a little friend.  Now my daughter and her friend are pen-pals, but in a modern, very chic way.  They send emails nearly every night.  And they are funny – all rainbows and silly and young girl.  I love it!  FringeKid writes in literal rainbows, loving that she can change font colors, and there are more silly smiley faces than words.

I love that she’s keeping in touch with friends far away.  It reminds me that I need to send a few more emails just for fun and to say hello.

Do your kids have any pen-pals?  Do you?

Ok, again.  One more thing.  If spell check hadn’t failed, this post would already be published and I’d be done chattering, but looks like I have more to say.

I’m going to attempt to memorize the book of Colossians.  I haven’t memorized anything in a very long time and at first, I wasn’t going to memorize an entire book, howbeit small, of the Bible.  It just keeps bugging me, like I should do it.  I mean, why not?  Can we ever have too much of God’s Word tucked safely in our hearts?

So, I’m doing it.  I won’t make any grand promises of success; however, I will try, and try, and try, and try some more.

That’s really it.  Hopefully spell check works this time.

When was the last time you memorized anything?

Outside My Comfort Zone – WIWW

22 Jun

Today I’m stepping out of my comfort zone and I’m participating in Pleated Poppy’s What I Wore Wednesday.   Each week during the winter, I would hop over to The Pleated Poppy and visit several linked blogs.  As I sat in my jeans and layers of t-shirts and sweaters, I’d be inspired by the woman brave enough to get dressed, take a picture, and post it for all the world to see.

I didn’t see it as an egocentric thing to do; I saw it as inspiring.

For me What I Wore Wednesday wasn’t about the nice clothes or cute jewelry, although I did like looking at them, it was more about taking the time to actually get dressed and look nice.  When you’re a stay-at-home mom or work-at-home woman, it’s easy to be lazy.  Let’s face it, yoga pants and t-shirts are pretty dang comfy.  Before you know it, we’re not wearing makeup (why bother when you’re just going to wash it off), we don’t fix our hair (aren’t pony-tails always in style?), and we look like bums.  God forbid the UPS man knocks on the door!  We’re not prepared to face the world, let alone the pizza man.

I kept thinking that one day I’d participate in WIWW.  I didn’t do it in the winter, because I wear jeans and sweaters in the winter, and I have about four sweaters on rotation.  I’d have to show you the same outfit twice in one week.  While I wash between wears, I was afraid you’d think I stink.  Now it’s summer and summer clothes are easy.

Here goes…and yes I did crop my face out of Thursday’s photos.  I know it’s an Adam’s Family type thing to do, but I always have the dorkiest look on my face.  I don’t like pictures being taken of me.  I’m usually the one with the camera in my hand, you know?

Please keep in mind, I’m no fashionista.

Thursday

Yes, that’s my daughter’s very messy room.  She’s cleaned it since these photos.

Went for a haircut, thrift shopping, and to visit a friend and her kids.

Dress – Ann Taylor Loft clearance about 3-4 years ago.

Denim Capris – Kohl’s

Bracelets – H & M

Wedges – Kmart

Friday

  Ran errands, went to library, out for pizza with the family at night.

Dress – Thrifted, New York & Co.

Belt – Thrifted

Necklace – Local Boutique

Sandals – Thrifted

Hair – Cut :-)

Saturday

Skirt – Thrifted, New York & Co.

Shirt – Kohl’s

Necklace – Target, a gift from a friend

Bracelet – Yard Sale

We spent the day tagging along with my hubby while he did stuff for work/church.  Nothing too exciting.

For the record, this may be the worst picture ever, but what can I say?  This isn’t Project Runway and you can’t vote me off my own blog. ;-)

Sunday

It was Father’s Day and you already know what we did that day.

Skirt – Thrifted

T-Shirt with ribbon flowers (you can’t tell) – Target

Brown Tank – Target

Sandals – Thrifted

Bracelets – Gifts, Necklace – Hand-Me-Down

Monday

Went for allergy shots, grocery shopping, hanging around the house and doing laundry.

Denim Capris – Kohl’s

Tank – H & M

Sweater – Gap Clearance

Necklace – Yard Sale

Tuesday

Walked to the park and library.

Skirt – Thrifted

Pink Tank – Thrifted

White Sweatshirt – Thrifted

Bag – Street Vendor NYC

Flip-Flops – Kmart

So there you have it!  As you can tell, I basically shop thrift stores and clearance racks, but I love doing it.  I love that I bought the dress, two of those skirts, and the red belt all for $5 total.  Sometimes we trick ourselves into thinking it’s ok to wear pj pants to Wal-Mart because maybe we don’t have a lot of money.  I’m taking a stand against pajama pants in public.  Try not to hate me for it.

So what about you?  Would you ever consider linking up to What I Wore Wednesday??

Go visit The Pleated Poppy and check out all the others participating in WIWW.  Be inspired to get dressed!

If this doesn’t make you laugh, check your pulse.

21 Jun

I had to show you this.  Father’s day won’t officially be over until you watch this video.  You really MUST watch.

Promise?

If you didn’t laugh, go see a doctor immediately.

My Hubby’s Sticky Buns

20 Jun

Hope you all had a happy Father’s Day and enjoyed your weekend.  We had a really nice, pretty relaxing Father’s Day.

We ate almond sticky buns for breakfast, but I cheated and made them on Saturday night.  They were still very fresh when I woke up at 6:15 (AM) to warm the oven and reheat my husband’s sticky buns.

I should have taken a picture when the pan was full, but I didn’t think about until last night.  I’m including the recipe.  Promise.

After church we went to Five Guys for lunch.  I won’t tell you what my husband thought of this burger joint before we tried it.  Now we’re in love with french fries, freshly cut right out of a real potato.

Three gazillion calories later, we drove over to the park with two green plastic Adirondack chairs sticking out of our trunk.

It was the most splenderific day ever.  I sat and played Mahjong on my nook all afternoon.  It’s an addiction I hope helps increase my brain function.  In forty years, tell me if it worked.  Kay?

The kids played in the stream for hours, plucking tadpoles from their natural habitat and squishing baby fish who never got the chance to swim upstream.

My husband enjoyed a cool breeze and a few rare moments of much deserved and long overdue peace and quiet.

FringeMan is great father, and fathering hasn’t been so easy lately.  Tweens are more difficult than two year-olds.  When my children were toddlers, I never thought I’d say that.  My son’s body seems to be outgrowing his brain.  I know they will find balance by the time he’s about twenty-eight, but for now we’re focused on the last six months of eleven.  We’re hoping he won’t spend the remainder of his eleventh year of life grounded, but we’re just not sure.

Remind us that we’ll make it, please.

My son created the cutest card for his father.  A rocket is on the outside of the card.  It says, “The Father Rocket.”

When you open the card, there’s a pop-up rocket blasting through space and the card reads, “You’re a blast!”  He put the words in one of those exploding dialogue boxes like you see in comic books.

Forever and ever, we will have a permanent reminder of this Father’s Day card.

Yes folks, that was done with a Sharpie and not Crayola washable markers.

Later in the day we called FringeMan’s dad and Skyped with my father.  In Portugal Father’s Day was last month.  Who would have thunk it?

Do you Skype?

The downside is the house has to be clean in order to talk to anyone.  So if you call and I’m running from room to room yelling, “Hang on a second!”  It’s because I’m trying to find a corner free of toys and dirty clothes.

Since I just reminded myself of my date with Tide free and clear, I better give you a recipe and sign off.

Toasted Almond Sticky Buns

1 1/2 c. sliced almonds

1 package or 2 1/2 tsp. yeast

1/4 c. warm water

1 c. whole milk

1 tsp. almond extract

1/4 c. honey

1/2 tsp. salt

3 1/4 c. flour

1 stick butter

3/4 c. dark brown sugar

1 tsp. cinnamon

1 tsp. nutmeg

sugar

Hopefully you have a stand mixer or else you’re stuck doing this by hand.

In a small bowl, combine the yeast, water, and a teaspoon of sugar.  Let it sit in a warm place for about 5 minutes or until it gets foamy on top.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees, spread the almonds on a pan and toast them until they are a golden brown.

In mixer, using the dough hook, combine the milk, 3 tablespoons of sugar, almond extract, and salt.  Add one cup of flour.  Then pour in the yeast mixture and add two and quarter more cups of flour.  Knead for a few minutes.

Generously  butter a large bowl.  Transfer the ball of dough into the bowl, turning once to coat with butter.  cover with a towel or plastic wrap and let rise in a warm spot until doubled (about an hour).

Flour your surface and roll dough in a 9 x 13 rectangle.  Melt the remaining butter (less the tablespoon for buttering the bowl) and spread evenly over your dough.  Let it sit a minute so the butter can set up a little bit.  If not it will run our when you roll the dough.  Mix 1/4 c. brown sugar with the spices and spread evenly over the buttered dough.  Now sprinkle your toasted almonds over the sugar mixture, leaving a good handful of almonds for later.

Roll the dough into a log and cut into 12 pieces.  Or, cut the dough into 12 strips and roll.  Either way.

Place them in a buttered pan (or two), cover, and allow them rise for about a half hour.  Sprinkle the tops of the buns with a generous amount of honey and a sprinkling of brown sugar.  Add the remaining almonds.  Then pop them in the oven for 20-25 minutes.

If you like almonds, they are yummy, even reheated the next morning. :-)

Sorry the recipe is not ALL blue, but I fixed it twice and it refuses to fix.  Some things are not worth get high blood pressure over.  Thanks for understanding.

 

How was your Father’s Day?

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