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Archives for February 2012

Building a Community

FAAACEBOOK!!!!

 

I like blogging.  I know you’d never guess by all the words I use, but I really enjoy making connections with people in Portugal, Canada, Texas and everyplace in between.

Through blogging, I’ve had the opportunity to meet and develop friendships with some of the sweetest people.  I even got to know a girl in Spain with whom I attended the same college, but didn’t know her then.  How cool is that?

Blogging opened up a whole new world for me.

I sincerely appreciate each of you who take the time to read my ramblings again and again.  I never assume someone will read or comment, but I appreciate every person who does.

So thank you.

Because I’d like to keep in better touch with all of you, I created a facebook page for The Domestic Fringe.  You may have noticed a box for it in the right sidebar, but maybe you missed it.

I’m asking that you take a second to *Like* The Domestic Fringe on facebook.  I hope this page evolves into a place where I can help promote you, your blog, and your business.  I’d love for it to be a place for my readers to not only connect with me, but to also connect with each other.

Doesn’t that sound corny?

It’s true though.  I think my readers are some of the most amazing people in the world.  You are good at what you do, whether it be writing, sewing,  making jewelry, or sharing your life through blogging.  I’d like for us to become a community where we can encourage, promote, and support one another.

via Pinterest by handmadebyryangosling tumbler

I’m also trying to talk some people into sponsoring a giveaway or two on the facebook page.  So get in early and go *Like* The Domestic Fringe on facebook.

I look forward to getting to know you better.  If you have a business and you’d like a shout-out on the facebook page, send me an email with a link.  I may not get to it tomorrow, but I promise, I will get it.

 

Thanks for being awesome.  Thanks for being you.

Date Night & The Angels Sang Hallelujah

About a week and half ago, I pleaded with facebook to send me a babysitter.  Actually, I only needed a child sitter, because all my babies are grown-up, and child sitting is easy…feed them junk food and turn on the television.

I am happy to report one angelic sole stepped up to the plate and had me drop my kids off at her house.  The kids had a blast and I am eternally grateful.

As much as I wanted a night out to spend some time alone with FringeMan (and I did!), I also wanted a reason to wear my cute new birthday shoes.

On a totally gross note, feel free to diagnose that reddish lump on my foot.  It’s been there for a few weeks and is constantly shrinking, but it’s still there.  Weird, huh?

Ok, enough of my hypochondria!

I figured I could use my date night as an excuse to get dressed and take pictures for WIWW.  I just want to tell you that the girls who participate in What I Wore Wednesday are lovely and inspiring and they make photographing oneself in a favorable light seem easy.  For me, it’s not so easy.  In fact, it’s next to near impossible!

I’m swearing off pictures and WIWW after today, maybe forever.  I know, no one is sorry.

Me either.

FringeMan and I went to an Italian restaurant and ate too much.  It was nice to be able to talk like grownups without having to answer a million questions from two munchkins.  It was nice to be out on a date, something we don’t get to do very often.

My husband even tried to ignore his phone, but he lapsed into a moment of temporary insanity when he sneaked off to the bathroom to return a business call.  I busted him.

No phone for you FringeMan!

I wore this lovely necklace FringeMan gave me Christmas.  I thought the red matched my shoes – the shoes I did not get to wear!

Right before we walked out the door, it started snowing.  Giant flakes began turning the world white and I didn’t want to risk ruining my new shoes.  It’s not only the snow, but with snow comes road salt and nothing kills a nice shoe like road salt.

So I took off my beloved Seychelles shoes and put on my boring black boots.  They’re nice, but not like my new shoes.  You know?

I see another date night in my not-so-distant future.  A date night with clear skies and maybe slightly warmer temps.

There’s just really not a lot to do where I live.  We went to dinner and then to Barnes & Noble, because let’s face it, Barnes & Noble is cheaper than the movies, even if you buy a book.

Any ideas for date night?

Where do you go when you have a sitter for your kids?

I need some new ideas, because letting FringeMan loose in Barnes & Noble is a dangerous thing.

FringeMan found a camouflage B-I-B-L-E, and that scares me.  It really does.

Go visit WIWW and get some inspiration for what to wear.  And because I’m supposed to tell you where I bought my clothes….

Dress – Kohl’s clearance about 5-6 years ago.  Coat – Loft clearance many years ago, leggings Gap, Shoes – Seychelles, Necklace – a gift from camo-man.

Don’t forget those date night ideas.  I need to keep FringeMan out of retail stores.  He might find a suit to match his Bible.  🙂

Fresh From a Can – Soup You Can Trust

Today I’m joining Soupapalooza, mostly because I like the name; however, I also thought it would be the perfect opportunity to introduce you to a soup that you can trust.

It’s homemade.  From a can.

That might sound curious to you, but let me explain.

Do you ever have those nights where you don’t feel like cooking?  Nights when poisoning your family with canned food seems like a better choice than cooking for them?

Me too!

That’s why I’m so excited about this recipe.  You see, you can shop for the ingredients, stockpile them if you wish, and they’ll last for years.  We can easily call this Post-Apocalyptic Soup, but that might sound too intimidating for some, which is why I went with Soup You Can Trust.  After all, we don’t want to scare the children with dinner.

Some of you do that anyhow, but moving on…

Soup You Can Trust

ingredients:

1 box chicken stock

1 box chicken broth

1 can cream of chicken soup

1 can black beans, rinsed and drained

1 can Mexican corn (regular corn can be substituted)

1 can chicken (drained)

1 can Rotel tomatoes

please ignore the multiples

Spices – this is where it’s subject to taste.  I’m going to offer a guideline, but alter to suit you and your family.

1 tsp chili powder

1/2 tsp roasted ground coriander

1/2 tsp cumin

1/2 tsp garlic powder or use fresh garlic

1/4 tsp of cayenne pepper

salt & pepper to taste

Top with fresh cilantro (if you have it/can find it, otherwise sprinkle with a little dried cilantro when throwing in the rest of the spices)

Dump everything into a pot and bring to a slight boil.  Simmer until hot.

How easy is that?  It actually tastes good too.

I’ll be honest, when I first made this soup, FringeMan decided he had to work late and miss dinner.  Then he almost fainted when I fed it to him for lunch the next day, but after he tasted it, he loved it!  He wanted more.  Now he walks around with his arms stretched out in front of him, growling the words MORE Post-Apocalyptic Soup.  You should see it.  It’s quite frightening, but the soup is yum.

If you want to get all highfalutin fain-cy on me, you can roast real chicken and simmer your own broth, but I’m a simple girl who really doesn’t love to cook, so I’m good with a few cans.

I found the original recipe here and jazzed it up with a few spices and the cream of chicken soup to thicken the broth.  We also like to top the soup with a little grated cheddar cheese and a few Fritos.  We’re classy like that.  Just make sure the family understands that Fritos are not noodles.  They’re just a garnish, so you only need a few.

If you are brave enough to try this, please let me know what you think.  I promise you, it’s the easiest almost-from-scratch  soup you’ll ever make – it’s the Soup You Can Trust.

So Come join SoupaPalooza at TidyMom and Dine & Dish sponsored by KitchenAid, Red Star Yeast and Le Creuset”.  I’m sure they’ll be lots of great soup recipes.  I can’t wait to click over myself!

P.S.  Wait till you see these soups!  Looks like I forgot to hire a professional photographer to capture my Fritos in their best light.  Silly me.

Don’t Judge a Book or a Mom by Her Cover

via Pinterest by ffffound.com

This weekend I did something way outside the box.  I signed up for a literary tea.  I mean, I’m literary.  Aren’t I?

Although I wouldn’t classify this here blog as a literary masterpiece, I do occasionally play around with words and get them to line up in  semi-coherent sentences.  I also read.  And above all, I drink tea.

Win-win.

While I was doing my hair, my son came and stood in the bathroom doorway.  He asked where I was going, and I did something stupid – something a mother should never do.  I asked my son a probing question about my appearance.

“So, do you think I look like a writer?”  I asked.

“No.  You look like a mom.”  He said.

“Really?  Because I was going for the writer look today.”

“Well, then you need a fancy suit and a desk and glasses.”  He informed me.

“I have glasses, you know.  And I’ve been telling your father that I desperately need a desk, but writers don’t wear suits.  Why do you think that?”

“They always wear suits and fancy glasses in their pictures – the ones on the backs of the books.”  He told me.

“Well, writers dress a lot like me.  Most of the time they wear fluffy bathrobes and slippers and sit in front of their computers.”  I felt I should exonerate myself.

“Maybe if you dry your hair and put some makeup on it will be better.”  He said, trying to be helpful.

“I’m wearing makeup.”

“Oh.  I don’t know then.”  And he left.

In comes child number two.

I looked at her in her penguin hat and asked my second stupid question of the day.  “Do I look like a mom or a writer?”

“A mom.”  She said without hesitation.

“But why?”  I asked.  “I mean, I love looking like a mom.  Being a mom is my favorite thing ever, but I was trying to look more like a writer today.”

“It’s because I’m standing right next to you.  See?”  She moved in, right by my side.  We stood looking at our reflections in the mirror – I in my mom suit and her in her penguin suit.  “Now when I move away.”  She stepped outside the door.  “You look like a writer.”

Hot Dog!  I love her logic.

Writer it is.

Off to my literary tea I went, where as it turns out, I was the only person not dressed in black.  I guess I looked like a mom after all.  Silly me, writers do not wear brown.  Nope.  Moms, we wear brown from time to time.  We also look like moms, even if the kids aren’t standing next to us.

Moral of the story:

Getting dressed is way overrated.

OR

Go buy a desk and a pair of fancy glasses.

Have you done anything outside of your comfort zone lately?

Please do share!

Finding Space for Creativity

My husband loves me.

Know how I know?

The other day when he was rewiring a 200-year-old house, he took down a little light fixture and walked it over to the dumpster.  Just as he was about to toss it in, he thought, “I should save this for my wife.  She would like it.”

So you girls can keep your flowers and chocolates.  I’ll take my vintage light love any day of the week.

I’ve been thinking that I need to carve out a little niche in my house and make it my “office” space.  I love using the kitchen island and all, but I really would enjoy a more private, inspirational space to doodle and twirl my hair write and create.

My house doesn’t have much spare space, but eventually, I’m going to make this happen.

I’m thinking my niche needs a parson’s metal desk like this one.

via westelm.com

With a cute red chair like this.

Crate&Barrel.com

And a bubble glass lamp like this.

via PierOne.com

I know I keep going back to Dr. Suess colors, but I love them.

Then I’d throw some bookshelves up on the wall and have FringeMan install that cute little vintage light under one of the shelves, so the light would shine down on my books and piles of papers and other assorted junk.

I may even throw a cookie jar like this on one of the book shelves, only I’d fill it with M&M’s.

picture taken by me in Barnes & Nobles

And then I’d be inspired to write a New York Times bestseller.  Or at least a good blog post. 🙂

Do you have a special place carved into your home where you work?

Or do you sit at the kitchen table like me?

Thank you FringeMan for thinking of me.  I love my vintage light so much that I’ve created an entire space for it to live in.  Aren’t you excited?

Oh Vanity of Vanities – Fiction Friday Revived

You may need a little background before you read this excerpt from my larger work of fiction (still very much in progress).  I drew inspiration from my own bad hair cut, wrote about it, and continued the story line.  It’s all purely fiction, but you can gain a little understanding if you go back and read about my bad hair cut.  Then you’ll understand where this entry picks up.

Not My Life is the story of a pastor’s wife, Patty, who believes privacy is for fitting rooms and confessionals.  She wants to share her story with the world, even if it’s sometimes at the expense of her dignity.

That’s as basic as the story line gets.  Yes, I draw from personal experience.  No, this is not my life.  It’s fiction.  Aka – imaginative, made-up, full of untruth.  It’s a story, plain and simple

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March 27, 2012

I promised myself I was not going to leave the house today.  I asked God if one day of sulking would be too much to ask, and He reminded me of Jonah.  Jonah sulked after Ninevah repented, and I figure spiked bangs and chopped locks damaged my psyche nearly as much as being swallowed by a whale.

I cried for an hour yesterday afternoon.  I couldn’t help myself.  Frank still laughs every time he catches a glimpse of my hair.  I’ve asked him to please stop, but he says it’s out of his control.  It’s automatic, like a reflex.  He sees my hair, thinks back to the now famous ‘Cut of 2012’ and falls into uncontrollable giggling fits.

If I could just take my head off and leave it home…how I wish!

I stood at the bathroom mirror for forty-minutes today trying to fix what’s left of my hair into a style presentable for Easter Sunday.  Did I tell you I’m singing on Easter?  A solo!  After using half a bottle of mousse, I knew this haircut is God’s punishment for my vanity.  As I stand before our congregation and sing He Arose, I will wish with all my heart that an empty tomb will open and suck me into oblivion.  Oh vanity of vanities!

I never suspected things could get worse.  I’m already suffering the trials of Job himself, if he were a woman.  Since my hair is too atrocious for taming products, I resorted to using Jane’s miniature claw clips.  When I finished wrangling my hair, I looked a little like Lady Liberty, only my spikes were pastel.  An entire row of rainbow clips framed my face.  If I were an Easter egg, I might be styling, but I am the minister’s wife!  I am singing on Sunday.  God (and maybe miracle grow) is the only one who can help me now.

So I turned to Him in prayer.

An Easter bonnet.  I’m sure he spoke that thought right into my very heart. So I grabbed my windbreaker from the hall closet and slipped one of Frank’s Yankee’s caps over the line of rainbow clips in my hair.  Swinging my bag over one shoulder, I headed out the door. To Macy’s I would go!

Walking through the door, I scanned the the brightly lit aisles filled with the pinks and greens of spring.  God bless Macy’s.  I didn’t see a familiar soul on the entire first floor, so I ventured in.  From three aisles away, I spied the perfect hat, wide-brimmed and floppy.  It was the color of not- too- summery butter-cream.  As my eyes locked on my millinery savior,  holy hands flew to the sky.  Unfortunately I quit paying attention to those around me and crashed right into the back of Mrs. Merryman.  Her generous skirt rose like a hot air balloon, and she landed on my left foot with a thump that rumbled the second floor.  I looked down and noticed my shoes – lime-green, cheese-thin flip-flops, and that’s not the worst of it.  My feet were cold early this morning, so I borrowed Frank’s wool hunting socks.  Apparently in my haste to hide my hair, I forgot to take them off.

Our jumble of hands and skirts attracted an extremely large crowd of eyewitnesses.  Frank would have been jealous.  I had a larger audience than he does on a pot-luck Sunday, and you know how many people show up for food!

Mrs. Merryman forgives me, or so she claims.  She was quite miffed sitting in her heap of pleated skirt and store bags.  I can’t blame her.  I barely forgive myself.   She didn’t utter the words “I’m sorry” until I swallowed my last little bit of pride and took off the Yankees cap.

Actually, her hand flew to her mouth.  It was hanging like she had loose hinges on her jaw, and she said, “Oh, my lands!  Who did that to you?”

Before I could tell her, she sucked in a breath that seemed to deplete all oxygen from the air, and muttered in a barely audible whisper, “It was Helen. Wasn’t it?  I’m so very sorry my dear.”

One single tear walked from my right eye to my chin.  Then it fell on my water-proof windbreaker. Macy’s went silent.  I swear I heard the tear-drop hit the floor.

Thankfully Mrs. Merryman can still walk.  She said she’ll be in the third pew from the front on Sunday, waiting to see me on stage in my new hat.  I’ll look like a cross between Audrey Hepburn and Lady Gaga.  I wonder if I’ll make headlines in the Happy Valley Herald?  I only hope Frank will thank me for the publicity, otherwise, he’ll probably call Helen back to finish scalping me.

It’s So Not My Life,

Patty

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Now, I’d love for you to join me in Fiction Friday.  If you’d like to share a little fiction today, please leave your link in the comments.  This weekend I will take the time to read all the linked posts.  I can’t wait!

All I ask from you is that you grab my nifty Fiction Friday button my sidebar and proudly display it your post.  Also, please link back to this post.  Thank you!

Hope you all enjoy your weekend.

P.S.  I created a facebook page for The Domestic Fringe.  I thought it might make staying in touch easier.  You can click the “Like” button in the upper right corner of my sidebar and we’ll be friends forever.  I promise to “Like” you back. 😉

An Ordinary Day

It was just an ordinary day.

With my extraordinary family.

I’m not using many words today and that’s more difficult than it sounds.  I’m simply trying to chronicle a day in photos, only I fell off the picture-taking bandwagon.  I should have snapped a photo of my dashboard for all the running around I did, a photo of piano lessons and the grocery store, a picture of the ladies at Bible study last night, and a picture of dirty dishes…definitely dirty dishes.

Well, you get the point.

I’m linking to Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop.

P.S. Yesterday afternoon I put up a little post about reviving Fiction Friday, at least for this week.  If you like to write or even if you don’t, you’re invited to post a snippet of fiction to your blog and then link it over here on Friday (tomorrow).  You can click here for yesterday’s example.  I shared a (very rough) page from my WIP Not My Life.