tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1841659217460890962024-02-18T21:45:34.025-05:00Life with four boys...coffee please!Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.comBlogger666125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-37081389676275317862013-05-11T16:21:00.000-04:002013-05-11T16:21:42.643-04:00We've Moved!Guess what?<br />
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<a href="http://denisedykstra.com/" target="_blank">Life With Four Boys...Coffee Please!</a> has MOVED!!!<br />
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<a href="http://beccaludlum.com/" target="_blank"><b>Becca Ludlum</b></a> designed me a great new site (she can for you too!) and you are all going to love it, I'm sure.<br />
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If you are reading this post, you need to click over and see the <a href="http://denisedykstra.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;"><b><i>new site</i></b></span></a>. Once there, sign up to receive email updates as before because otherwise, <b>you won't be getting any more</b> and that would make us all sad.<br />
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So, same blog...new site.<br />
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I am giddy excited over it!<br />
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Click <a href="http://denisedykstra.com/" target="_blank">HERE</a>....<br />
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<a href="http://denisedykstra.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: cyan; font-size: x-large;"><b>Life With Four Boys...Coffee Please!</b></span></a></div>
Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-44908118859626062832013-05-06T08:37:00.000-04:002013-05-11T16:22:09.233-04:00The Giant Blue Racer that Climbed a Tree<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
While sitting at Wicked in wedges and a new dress, I was sent this photo....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjedbhyphenhyphenuNtjiCFJwEaNqs2Wocc63AZD4TpirzWw0n2KvlJzoLXJvf5d5o28ApPnFOQsLJCViTPL16N3RjSNUyq1u7qxXP4wvq3REsrFMzM9neo8uDPqoDxY4KF3d5eWKdKQs7HmsoPw2g/s1600/IMG_6116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjedbhyphenhyphenuNtjiCFJwEaNqs2Wocc63AZD4TpirzWw0n2KvlJzoLXJvf5d5o28ApPnFOQsLJCViTPL16N3RjSNUyq1u7qxXP4wvq3REsrFMzM9neo8uDPqoDxY4KF3d5eWKdKQs7HmsoPw2g/s400/IMG_6116.JPG" width="238" /></a></div>
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That is a snake.</div>
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A blue racer.</div>
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And it's still alive.</div>
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Apparently, as they were walking across the field (at my parents, thank goodness, and not here) (Sorry, Mom!) the caught sight of a snake. Avery large snake. And when they all <strike>screamed</strike> shouted snake, they ran for it.</div>
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Where it slithered.....</div>
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Up</div>
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A</div>
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Tree</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2M2JbaohapzDmQBNPknH2U_3kYFSl5JTBw_HCB-ZpBIAhcqJt7LZG9NSWOJLR7j3CAmvqiKN7hbH-dJv10ss44bxs5X1jEhxeS9UyMiWWudOYIh0Wu8vvhFURq9oiObz_oklhPvYi7J0/s1600/IMG_6117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2M2JbaohapzDmQBNPknH2U_3kYFSl5JTBw_HCB-ZpBIAhcqJt7LZG9NSWOJLR7j3CAmvqiKN7hbH-dJv10ss44bxs5X1jEhxeS9UyMiWWudOYIh0Wu8vvhFURq9oiObz_oklhPvYi7J0/s400/IMG_6117.JPG" width="238" /></a></div>
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Is there no safe place?</div>
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None at all?</div>
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Snakes in trees?</div>
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The boys let the blue racer go. They are hoping to catch it again later this summer.</div>
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So now I have THAT to look forward to!</div>
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Good grief. </div>
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<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-36798323895016815892013-05-03T06:30:00.000-04:002013-05-03T09:21:24.763-04:00New L.L. Bean Signature Dress<br />
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After the <a href="http://denisedykstra.blogspot.com/2013/04/woodchuck-for-dinner.html" target="_blank">woodchuck for dinner incident</a>, I ordered a new dress.</div>
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I don't think anyone blamed me.</div>
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I have looked at the <a href="http://www.llbean.com/llb/shop/73697?feat=786-GN1&page=poplin-dress" target="_blank">L.L. Bean Signature</a> dress for over a year...I make up my mind at turtle's pace sometimes...and I finally ordered it. I wanted it for my trip to see <a href="http://denisedykstra.blogspot.com/2013/04/wicked.html" target="_blank">Wicked</a> as well as something new to wear for Mother's Day.</div>
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The problem was that the dress is in all navy, or in color blocked skirt, or in brown and white polk-a-dot. How does one choose?<br />
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Also, the dress is modeled with adorable <a href="http://www.llbean.com/llb/shop/73467?feat=792-GN1&page=suede-heel-sandal&attrValue_0=Golden%20Saffron" target="_blank">blue and yellow heels</a>.<br />
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I decided on the navy dress, the original, the one I first went "ooooh, that is classy" over. I figure I can dress it up with red heels (haven't found them yet), dress it down with flip flops, and it would work well with a scarf I own as well as a little cute yellow sweater from <a href="http://www.downeastbasics.com/" target="_blank">Downeast Basics</a>.<br />
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I. Love. This. Dress.<br />
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Pure cotton, fully lined, pouffy skirt that makes one feel all classic, it has a high neck, pockets in the skirt, wide tie belt to wear a variety of ways and it just oozes classic charm.<br />
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Love. This. Dress.<br />
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When people have seen it - on the one day I have worn it thus far - I was told how well tailored it look.<br />
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If you are looking for a easy to wear, comfortable, classy dress - this is it. If I could, I would get it in every style!<br />
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Shop now!<br />
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<a href="http://www.llbean.com/llbeansignature/llb/shop/8?qs=3023889_pmd_google" target="_blank">L.L. Bean Signature </a></div>
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<a href="http://www.downeastbasics.com/" target="_blank">DownEast Basics</a><br />
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<i>I wrote this post simply because I love this dress and I think you should know about it.</i><br />
<i>I was not paid for my opinion and the L.L. Bean dress I bought myself.</i><br />
<i> </i><i>And I am so glad I did.</i><br />
<i>Downeast Basics just has really cool clothes. Really cool. </i><br />
<i>Now go shop!</i><br />
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<i> </i> </div>
Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-71729182113146094652013-05-01T06:30:00.000-04:002013-05-03T09:19:06.041-04:00Women Making a Difference<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://praiseandcoffee.com/current-magazine/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNwy0KIT59Tsvk8wCjzCVVPgbD6yhzBGLt_Vs2k4h3fTQ9RsmozAzAHDhxPMZihyfR00lEm5VosvzYtRhloQOXxYPNNr4B8rHyFEwmRoan3lbH4lMgG_peElUXUHVuhpgo2sfgaPc8-o/s400/spring2013_zps91002c8d.jpg" width="308" /></a></div>
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The new magazine is out and ready to be read!</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Click</span></div>
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<a href="http://praiseandcoffee.com/current-magazine/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">HERE</span></a></div>
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The cover - how I love it. When Sue asked me about it, I literally had goosebumps because I love this photo of Maureen ever so much. </div>
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I secretly love wings like those, well, I guess it's not a secret anymore.</div>
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This was a <a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/57" target="_blank">tough article</a> for me to write this time around. I basically gave Sue a list of possible article subjects and sorta mentioned one and she picked my sorta mentioned one.</div>
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Figures.</div>
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She was right to have me work on that. And I am glad she knew better than I.</div>
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But enough of all that!</div>
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We have GOOD stuff in this magazine!</div>
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<a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/15" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">Alli Worthington</span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-size: large;"><a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/11" target="_blank"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;">Kate Battistelli</span></a></span></div>
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<a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/21" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">Matt Appling</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/23" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">Melanie Nelson</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/37" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">Amy Lively</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/27" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">Tammi Heim</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/41" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">(in) courage</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/41" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">Kristen Schiffman</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/41" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">Maureen (our cover!)</span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">And <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"><a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/43" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;">adorable jackets from Big Mama's</span></a> </span>Melanie Shankle!</span></div>
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Of course, there is the normal articles from Sue Cramer and <a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/54" target="_blank">Ronel Sidney</a>. </div>
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Check it out and let me know what you think!!!</div>
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To purchase a hard copy, a real paper magazine, click <a href="http://issuu.com/praiseandcoffee/docs/spring_2013/11" target="_blank">HERE</a>. It will cost you $13.80 an issue. </div>
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Our summer themed magazine will be surrounding the word Freedom. Can not wait to see what that will bring!</div>
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So brew up some coffee or tea or iced tea and settle in for a great read.</div>
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Enjoy!</div>
Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-34967876438218019252013-04-29T11:14:00.001-04:002013-04-29T11:14:19.252-04:00WickedOver the weekend, the book club I belong to traveled to Kalamazoo's <a href="http://www.millerauditorium.com/" target="_blank">Miller Auditorium</a> to see <a href="http://www.wickedthemusical.com/page.php" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;">Wicked</span></a>.<br />
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As we are a book club, we read the book. Well, some of us did. One of us did not and I shall not name her here but she also said that she does not hear us saying one good thing about it that made her wish she had read it.</div>
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We weren't fans of the book, sorry if you are. That said, we have never discussed a book to death more.</div>
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I read a synopsis on <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/37442.Wicked" target="_blank">goodreads</a> of the other books in the series and I won't be reading any of them. The last one is listed repeatedly as "dark". Well, I found <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/37442.Wicked" target="_blank">Wicked</a> to be dark so I wasn't interested in reading something MORE dark.</div>
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But here is this tricky little thing, I actually liked Elphie in the book so it wasn't a total waste. I'll just never ever reread it. Ever.</div>
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My book club, how I love it! We have been the group since the beginning and we all decided we would do this thing, see this play. We dressed up. We painted our nails. We had sitters. We were out on the town.</div>
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We settled into our balcony seats and I was trying to act all calm and not jump up and down in sheer excitement because this was my first musical play and I. Was. Excited.</div>
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I was also nervous to see all these little girls there to watch the play and I worried what they would see because the book was that bad.</div>
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However, whoever wrote the musical <a href="http://www.wickedthemusical.com/page.php" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Wicked</span></a> was brilliant because it didn't follow the book much at all and I. Loved. It.</div>
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I mean, I really really loved it.</div>
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As the play went to intermission, I thought it was over, and while an odd spot to end the play, I stood and cheered and was thinking it was great and then realized we were only half way through!</div>
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And it ended just beautifully.</div>
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Romantic sigh, beautiful.</div>
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The music is now one of my pandora stations. I looked up the price of a <a href="http://www.wickedthemusicalstore.com/Products/Foil-Logo-V-neck-(Organic)-Tee__WKD-FOIL-ORG.aspx" target="_blank">t-shirt</a> or book to remember this amazing show but the shirt was 40 and the book was 20 and I didn't purchase them. I'll just add them to my "if I ever win the lottery or my chickens begin laying golden eggs" list. </div>
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If <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Wicked</span> is coming near you - Go. See. It. Don't even bother with the book at all. Just see the musical. It's so amazing!</div>
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And, on a side note, while at <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Wicked</span>, I was sent this photo in a text of what my boys were up to.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjedbhyphenhyphenuNtjiCFJwEaNqs2Wocc63AZD4TpirzWw0n2KvlJzoLXJvf5d5o28ApPnFOQsLJCViTPL16N3RjSNUyq1u7qxXP4wvq3REsrFMzM9neo8uDPqoDxY4KF3d5eWKdKQs7HmsoPw2g/s1600/IMG_6116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjedbhyphenhyphenuNtjiCFJwEaNqs2Wocc63AZD4TpirzWw0n2KvlJzoLXJvf5d5o28ApPnFOQsLJCViTPL16N3RjSNUyq1u7qxXP4wvq3REsrFMzM9neo8uDPqoDxY4KF3d5eWKdKQs7HmsoPw2g/s640/IMG_6116.JPG" width="380" /></a></div>
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My son is holding a blue racer. And it's still alive. He is wearing gloves because it attempted to bite him but that is another story for another day.</div>
Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-2534162119347664362013-04-20T16:24:00.000-04:002013-04-20T16:24:07.419-04:00"That Old Lady Smell"While cleaning out some forgotten drawer, I found a bottle of lavender spray from the Healing Garden. I sprayed a bit, it smelled wonderful, so I sprayed the curtains in our bedroom with it. <br />
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I have been cleaning the house all day and it's pretty much a lost cause. I mopped the floors in the living room, they are now covered in mud.<br />
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I cleaned the bathroom, S3 put his muddy shoes in the sink.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6ZAVlHnAQweIpDjrPptK348cYeF8pEYRIL-Mgl5J9vMBh6G69CwBDhhAN44pqHz6XFUNogysG3oI124wLt_uTRqkirdYflm9Ia_8yBrDqnvvcglx3BW69K8jT7yYO70pTvGD4x3O394/s1600/IMG_5904.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6ZAVlHnAQweIpDjrPptK348cYeF8pEYRIL-Mgl5J9vMBh6G69CwBDhhAN44pqHz6XFUNogysG3oI124wLt_uTRqkirdYflm9Ia_8yBrDqnvvcglx3BW69K8jT7yYO70pTvGD4x3O394/s400/IMG_5904.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Anyway, back to lavender.<br />
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I love the smell of lavender and I thought that tonight, when I went to bed on my just washed today sheets, I would smell the lavender and feel fully spoiled.<br />
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I moved on to the kitchen to start cleaning, it's scary messy, when S1 walked in.<br />
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He tilted his head to the side. Sniffed. Scrunched up his nose. "What's that smell?" he finally asked.<br />
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"What smell?" I asked him.<br />
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"That different smell. That girly smell."<br />
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"Oh, that. That's lavender spray I put on the curtains," I told him.<br />
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"Huh." He stole one of my green apple slices with peanut butter on it. "When we were in fifth grade, or some grade, anyhow, they had lavender hand sanitizer and we boys called it "old lady sanitizer."<br />
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"So the house smells like an old lady?" I asked him.<br />
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"No, it doesn't smell like alcohol," he explained.<br />
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I couldn't resist, leaning against the kitchen counter with a smirk I asked, "So...old ladies smell like alcohol and lavender?"<br />
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Realizing he couldn't win this one, he retreated back outside to help his Daddy. Guy stuff is so much easier than talking to girls.Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-74236510009441219162013-04-18T15:33:00.000-04:002013-04-18T15:33:57.569-04:00Woodchuck for Dinner<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Our oldest son had been noticing some <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Groundhog" target="_blank">woodchuck</a> damage and decided to do something about it. Last year we had such an infestation of various rodents so he wanted to make sure he had an early start.</div>
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He caught one on the first day after setting his auction buy trap.</div>
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I knew then that I would have to "adjust" our weekly menu.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdT7lt8l0VYbNWe8koMg7XFpqGBtqxLCw7KVh9HQafrgmyfDksvKDnwLiFzqI_nfX8__p1Piatv7WQvyyl-JWeggBIo-Q1O4mdVzPARGQ_IAfsbq4UFiOpnQJHwMaa4TMuHVFDdYjHTQI/s1600/IMG_5836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdT7lt8l0VYbNWe8koMg7XFpqGBtqxLCw7KVh9HQafrgmyfDksvKDnwLiFzqI_nfX8__p1Piatv7WQvyyl-JWeggBIo-Q1O4mdVzPARGQ_IAfsbq4UFiOpnQJHwMaa4TMuHVFDdYjHTQI/s400/IMG_5836.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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All the boys have been waiting to eat woodchuck (or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Groundhog" target="_blank">groundhog</a> - but the word groundhog makes me bitter because he said that it would be an early spring and it is supposed to SNOW this weekend.). Friends I shall leave unmentioned (but drive a blue bus because their family is so large - 16 kiddos from one mama and one daddy and only one set of twins) had assured our boys it was tasty.</div>
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As they are known as being tricksters, I was slightly leery.</div>
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The school called as S1 was headed back to the house withe the rodent and I had to run in to get S2, who was feeling sickly. I was so in shock over the fact that I was actually going to be making woodchuck for dinner that I had to share this information with the school secretary. Oddly, she didn't seem shocked. I think this should concern me. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTODsnXy1yq6IDqZbm5_hN8d2aw4CmGMI21-ABMdjeqIVg7eSEIjubd_637hdwHnj9Mp7Rw-oszfenMdfHTqkv4NnxqOzvJFjKM5idb0_thL_gJ5pqSJhQvpT74-RV7hIlNsWAoqoUo80/s1600/IMG_5833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTODsnXy1yq6IDqZbm5_hN8d2aw4CmGMI21-ABMdjeqIVg7eSEIjubd_637hdwHnj9Mp7Rw-oszfenMdfHTqkv4NnxqOzvJFjKM5idb0_thL_gJ5pqSJhQvpT74-RV7hIlNsWAoqoUo80/s320/IMG_5833.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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S2 arrived home to watch S1 cut up the meat. I was quite thankful that <a href="http://www.reynoldskitchens.com/products/slow-cooker-liners/" target="_blank">crock pot liners</a> have been invented because they were surely being used on this meal.</div>
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We had been told that cream of mushroom soup would make the meat more tender, so we added that as well. </div>
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It wasn't looking very tasty.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbNnMjMz0zF9lV4Cew0tgwNSDocBTetxF4wAji1Z0tzQbdbdVSAIA4YHBlJjt5un7Etd0Nyx8_cVw0KLpBnSFCdoVOQ9nF0I70mQTVDhn62Wa5I-NAV7APGhx_a4IFIA6UG9KEN4X8Fdo/s1600/IMG_5835.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbNnMjMz0zF9lV4Cew0tgwNSDocBTetxF4wAji1Z0tzQbdbdVSAIA4YHBlJjt5un7Etd0Nyx8_cVw0KLpBnSFCdoVOQ9nF0I70mQTVDhn62Wa5I-NAV7APGhx_a4IFIA6UG9KEN4X8Fdo/s320/IMG_5835.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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However, every single time I get a chicken ready to bake I swear I am not eating one because I think they look so disgusting but I keep making them for dinner and we keep eating them. So I wasn't so quick to judge.</div>
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The longer it cooked, well, it didn't smell very good either. We kept waiting for a good cooking scent, but it never happened.</div>
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When I drove into our little hometown to pick up yet another sick boy (it's been a rough week, but we can't blame the woodchuck, it hadn't been eaten yet), I stopped to talk to Alicia at my amazing work place, the heart of our town, the library.</div>
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"There's a woodchuck in my crock pot," I told her.</div>
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"What?" she spit out.</div>
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I repeated what I said. "That's what I thought you said but I didn't want to believe you," she answered, shaking her head.</div>
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When I arrived home, the woodchuck wasn't smelling any better.</div>
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I started frying bacon. Bacon always smells wonderful. Waffles and bacon had never sounded so delicious for dinner.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTnQLV-diWNC5cJF_E-tuAj5mJSFMdfv2bg_kCD_WWKvaYSWf1mr5zrR6ujofDwsXzs60gkrABjrDYeEQVtrhKjyaXzj8mLS0o5rpuPEl1k__HlfzvOqvEItR_Qo1PHbRMzz8NQsrFPwU/s1600/IMG_5840.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTnQLV-diWNC5cJF_E-tuAj5mJSFMdfv2bg_kCD_WWKvaYSWf1mr5zrR6ujofDwsXzs60gkrABjrDYeEQVtrhKjyaXzj8mLS0o5rpuPEl1k__HlfzvOqvEItR_Qo1PHbRMzz8NQsrFPwU/s320/IMG_5840.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The meat cooked up dark, nearly black. My husband began to get a little hopeful. "Bear meat is black and it is some good eating," he told us. He began dreaming up plans if it tasted as good as prime rib and how we would raise the woodchucks, becoming a woodchuck farm, hitting the jackpot on an untaped market and the recipes I could sell and the money we could make.</div>
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All the boys started asking for me to make them a waffle.</div>
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But S1, bless his heart, cut up pieces for everyone and was sure that with <a href="http://www.sweetbabyrays.com/" target="_blank">Sweet Baby Ray's</a>, <b>anything</b> can be tasty.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9RPtHb14Qm1gGjYhERyyXYUhhs5Z-fqLDZorhBbu8L4rdc1Yzc40x_mf7u_gloy8KNgwuQrwikR5exSEz-jdkvqeFd3ireSZYpGl7rtzcFqsATYC5j99nsXE2ot1iA0pk8TMYOvKCeI/s1600/IMG_5843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9RPtHb14Qm1gGjYhERyyXYUhhs5Z-fqLDZorhBbu8L4rdc1Yzc40x_mf7u_gloy8KNgwuQrwikR5exSEz-jdkvqeFd3ireSZYpGl7rtzcFqsATYC5j99nsXE2ot1iA0pk8TMYOvKCeI/s640/IMG_5843.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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He was mistaken.</div>
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"All this hard work for it to taste this bad!" he moaned dejectedly. </div>
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And it was <b><i>bad</i></b> bad. So bad that when they cleared the table, they wouldn't even give the leftovers to the chickens. That is <b><i>bad</i></b>, folks.</div>
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I was ever so thankful for that crock pot liner!</div>
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S1 emailed the <strike>Visser's</strike> the people who told us it would taste good, and they told us you have to boil woodchuck first and then cook it.</div>
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It's going to take a little while to get over this, but I am pretty sure that we are going to be trying this meal again.</div>
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Lucky us.</div>
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I would like to add that days later, they are still bemoaning the fact the woodchuck tasted so tough and terrible. My husband still laments, "If it only it had tasted good, think of the money we could have made!"</div>
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This, people, is my life.</div>
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I cannot make it up.</div>
Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-45565936090471974922013-04-11T17:32:00.000-04:002013-04-11T19:39:55.519-04:00Three Crock-pot Recipes for Four Ravenous Boys Back in October, at the height of football season, I bought this <a href="http://store.crockingirls.com/" target="_blank">cookbook</a>....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgoV5WYqCCsmE8qbV58AYpFg8KFPSaFOOx1lfoJ_gHMb3SMOl8_qCo8Os6_-hHtI3YLINiwPu8kRKVQqhyphenhyphenYMNglnRiFa4tsY49KG6OtY40m4K4FBxI6RHRwytp9V8IKzhZRJAlhkM9SIjlaSDOsVfNJgTZXfNDXpqKnUSNhpg=" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgoV5WYqCCsmE8qbV58AYpFg8KFPSaFOOx1lfoJ_gHMb3SMOl8_qCo8Os6_-hHtI3YLINiwPu8kRKVQqhyphenhyphenYMNglnRiFa4tsY49KG6OtY40m4K4FBxI6RHRwytp9V8IKzhZRJAlhkM9SIjlaSDOsVfNJgTZXfNDXpqKnUSNhpg=" width="254" /></a></div>
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But because it was, in fact, the height, of football season, I sorta didn't try any recipes. Oh, I looked it over at practice, when I was stuck in the suburban during a rain storm, waiting for a game to begin....</div>
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The boys went through and chose a few recipes (aka, full page pictures) they thought they would like to eat.</div>
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Since then I have made the oatmeal recipes and one potato recipe and one dessert from this crock-pot cookbook.</div>
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How sad is that?</div>
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Well, lately we have been in this terrible rut for dinners. It goes something like lasagna, tacos, pizza, roast or chicken and potatoes, shepherds pie, chili or goulash, grilling. </div>
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When my dear friend (who happens to be my boss) said she was taking the week off of work (as she well deserved) I knew I was going to have to get creative with dinner since I would be working every day. As I have mentioned before, the boys have to know what they are having for dinner when I drop them off at school. If I am not sure, they get a panicked look in their eyes. </div>
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What if, what if I forget to FEED them?</div>
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The horror!</div>
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So I picked out three recipes and picked two other days to make a "normal" meal. I thought that would be a good balance.</div>
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I told my friends what I was doing and promised I would give them the boys ratings. And here I am, doing just as I promised.</div>
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The first day I made this <a href="http://crockingirls.com/recipes/baby-bella-beef-stroganoff/" target="_blank">Beef Stroganoff</a>.</div>
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I cannot spell stroganoff to save my hide, just so you know. </div>
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I was pretty sure this would be everyone's favorite. My husband thought it tasted like hamburger helper, and he has a thing against hamburger helper because we lived on hamburger helper our first year of marriage and if you talk to him for any length of time he will tell you this. </div>
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I made it up the night before and stuck the entire crock-pot in <a href="http://denisedykstra.blogspot.com/2012/04/post-my-husband-wants-me-to-write.html" target="_blank">the outdoor fridge of which I do not speak of</a>. It is currently <b>not</b> filled with worms (everyone is now clicking the link in the highlighted words to read of the <a href="http://denisedykstra.blogspot.com/2012/04/post-my-husband-wants-me-to-write.html" target="_blank">worm fridge</a> now....I just know it) so the entire crock-pot fit right in there which was amazingly handy in the morning to just pull it out of the fridge and plug it in the kitchen.</div>
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Do not tell my husband this - that the fridge on the porch could have been a brilliant idea. He doesn't need to know this, I am still thinking bitter thoughts about him telling everyone how much he hates hamburger helper.</div>
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The meal turned out perfectly.</div>
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It got so so reviews. Jake, as I said, didn't like it much. Not that it was bad, it was just bland.</div>
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And it was bland. But the boys all said they would eat it again so I consider that a win.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIaMBXZ6gY6OvrwI1DvDtzq9nCT82aePLZqY_TRbua25k1jlpxRDOKpznBRjKUdGuQQcYC3pk-umYYnvWnfUsa_6WYUXzk03XKujMIHSkj2xy7k1s-lcmMGUJGe-Bx0iPPeJBgLsunjSM/s1600/IMG_5757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIaMBXZ6gY6OvrwI1DvDtzq9nCT82aePLZqY_TRbua25k1jlpxRDOKpznBRjKUdGuQQcYC3pk-umYYnvWnfUsa_6WYUXzk03XKujMIHSkj2xy7k1s-lcmMGUJGe-Bx0iPPeJBgLsunjSM/s320/IMG_5757.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>Please notice S2's hat. We had to wait on this photo just so he could have his hat on.</i></div>
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After dinner I made up the meal I was a little worried about. Again, we stuck the whole crock-pot in the fridge and when I got home with the boys at the end of the day, dinner was ready.</div>
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You just can't beat that.</div>
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It looked a little iffy, I stirred it and it looked delicious.</div>
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My husband absolutely raves about this <a href="http://crockingirls.com/recipes/cheddar-vegetable-sausage-casserole/" target="_blank">Cheddar Vegetable Sausage Casserole</a>.</div>
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S1 didn't like it but the other's seemed to like it quite well. They said I could make it again. (It should be noted S1 does not like vegetables...which is tricky when your family is vegetable farmers.) I had this the next day at lunch, it was even better the next day. I doubled the recipe and I am so glad I did.</div>
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Because I was using crock-pot liners, clean up the crock-pot simple easy and I got the next meal ready to go.</div>
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By now the boys were thinking I may be using "new" meals as a form of punishment. "What's wrong with the food we like?" they whined when I told them it would be a new chicken dish for dinner.</div>
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This recipe, Golden Mushroom Chicken, is in the book but I cannot find it on the <a href="http://crockingirls.com/" target="_blank">Crockin' Girls</a> site. If you have the cookbook, it is on page 261. I could not find golden mushroom soup so I just used cream of mushroom soup. This recipe I doubled as well and then crossed my fingers and hoped it would be good.</div>
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They nearly licked the pot clean.</div>
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Well, except for S3 who had had it with new food and refused to eat anything but cereal and pretzel sticks. </div>
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Normally, that would bother me but this was sooooo good we didn't care.</div>
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I made up two packages of Knorr creamy chicken rice and I should have made three bags of it. Jake said it was good and I could make it again but the polish sausage dish was still his favorite.</div>
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But anyway you look at it, I have THREE new dishes to put into rotation at our home.</div>
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And they are all so super easy I could make them at night when I was tired from work and not even stress it.</div>
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Feeling rather confident in my cooking skills, I decided to try another new recipe on our taco dinner night. </div>
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During the week, I had gotten an invite to All Recipes magazine and was about to toss the offer when I noticed they included recipes in their request. And one of those recipes was for lemon bars. And lemon is the color of sunshine and I miss sunshine and I happen to love lemon bars.</div>
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So I made these <a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Lemon-Pie-Bars/Detail.aspx" target="_blank">Lemon Pie Bars</a>. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEiwaWNxbZsYZY7ZLBoASxU65Th2ATS9tTFK5_4gVJmgUcoaujQrZPU7-0Ssx3GWy6Q45U0iIv_8H1wDgFIjXGYYg1MKrVsob3oZFHCqDdxJXnnwPivrVl0_HjxxLMOvFoXNgU_pc0HyMexv_2X1OIUKFOer3FaZir5Qpfytu1oLtNsbZ1supFY8QA=" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEiwaWNxbZsYZY7ZLBoASxU65Th2ATS9tTFK5_4gVJmgUcoaujQrZPU7-0Ssx3GWy6Q45U0iIv_8H1wDgFIjXGYYg1MKrVsob3oZFHCqDdxJXnnwPivrVl0_HjxxLMOvFoXNgU_pc0HyMexv_2X1OIUKFOer3FaZir5Qpfytu1oLtNsbZ1supFY8QA=" /></a></div>
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They were just cool enough to eat when the boys arrived home from school. S1 was upstairs in his room doing school work and his nose led him downstairs just before they arrived home and he gobbled up three of them.</div>
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I wasn't sure if the boys would like them.</div>
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Think they did?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_n5ZYGIidYW0o_9vfCmHK4h7i2j54tGBRwDrYkZkCSN7zGEQxmr1uUYqLTVE4e3rK8XHZ5Ij3kLN5l7CX0NNeeINAd4YiuAgLf9kEIBoe5gX07Jmp2K5xCWeX7a6ObzWYpHMpWFOFKuM/s1600/IMG_5770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_n5ZYGIidYW0o_9vfCmHK4h7i2j54tGBRwDrYkZkCSN7zGEQxmr1uUYqLTVE4e3rK8XHZ5Ij3kLN5l7CX0NNeeINAd4YiuAgLf9kEIBoe5gX07Jmp2K5xCWeX7a6ObzWYpHMpWFOFKuM/s320/IMG_5770.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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They were amazingly simple to make so I may have to make up a whole new pan of them.</div>
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Seriously, even I who make (I think) good food but not pretty food noticed they looked rather sunshiny pretty....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB6tdiE16VIOzNrOuqzzj3qRcahraidL7AWZ6gXzfES6uNWI1wKjooMZkS4fs6UrpwKCiVq9DRZ95c0IPvDd8Fp5nrZYwfqIFP0fN8US-MkcFCyL7AMgrJUhEprSbgxG86yJBXkpdc9iE/s1600/IMG_5768.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB6tdiE16VIOzNrOuqzzj3qRcahraidL7AWZ6gXzfES6uNWI1wKjooMZkS4fs6UrpwKCiVq9DRZ95c0IPvDd8Fp5nrZYwfqIFP0fN8US-MkcFCyL7AMgrJUhEprSbgxG86yJBXkpdc9iE/s400/IMG_5768.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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And they made a full 9x13 pan...a must in our household, obviously.</div>
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So what will I be making next week?</div>
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I think I will torture the boys and try a few new recipes again. :) It was such a nice change!</div>
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And...get this...my husband actually THANKED ME for making dinner.</div>
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Okay, maybe I am not as bitter about his hamburger helper stories......</div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>The <a href="http://crockingirls.com/" target="_blank">Crockin' Girls</a> have no idea I am writing this post. I bought the cookbook out of football mom desperation and I am thinking it was a brilliant move on my part. Check out their <a href="http://crockingirls.com/" target="_blank">website</a> to learn more, follow them on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/happycrockin" target="_blank">facebook</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/Crockin_Girls" target="_blank">twitter</a> or their <a href="http://crockingirls.com/club/blog/" target="_blank">blog</a> to get new recipes. They seem so chatty and sweet and real on <a href="https://twitter.com/Crockin_Girls" target="_blank">twitter</a>, I am sure you will enjoy following them too!</i></div>
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<br />
And I had a comment along the lines of, "Congratulations on your Liebster Day Surprise!" and I really thought it was spam.<br />
<br />
But apparently it is not.<br />
<br />
I need to answer 11 questions and then tag some other blogs.<br />
<br />
Since <a href="http://mybradybunchfamily.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2013-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&updated-max=2014-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&max-results=15" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My Brady Bunch Family</span></a> was nice enough to nominate me, I'll happily answer her questions....<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">1. When do you find time the time to blog?</span><br />
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Well, today, it was while I was making lemon bars.<br />
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Here's the thing...there are days when I look at something and find it so hilarious I simply must blog about it right then. There are times when I am so busy and I think "I should blog about this" and so I send myself a title. And there are times when whatever it is I am going through is so not funny to me that I don' want to blog about it but know it would be good for me to find the humor in it so I force myself to blog it.<br />
<br />
But my time to blog is sporadic at best.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">2. If you could be any animal, what would it be and why?</span><br />
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I. Have. No. Idea.<br />
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I guess I'll go with a kitten because we are going to be getting a kitten and it's going to be SO FUN so kitten it is for today.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">3. Describe what you feel when you see your favorite color.</span><br />
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Squeal!!!!!!<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">4. What is your favorite television show?</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/downtonabbey/" target="_blank">Downton Abbey</a>, even if it made me cry. All my boys in the house mock me and my show.<br />
<br />
Together we watch <a href="http://www.aetv.com/duck-dynasty/video/?mkwid=shGAIlQCA_pcrid_20714084955_pkw_duck%20dynasty_pmt_b&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=duck%20dynasty&utm_campaign=G_Duck+Dynasty&paidlink=1&cmpid=PaidSearch_google_G_Duck+Dynasty_duck%20dynasty" target="_blank">Duck Dynasty</a>, <a href="http://lesstroud.ca/survivorman/home.php" target="_blank">Survivorman</a>, <a href="http://www.history.com/shows/top-gear" target="_blank">Top Gear</a> (Rutledge is my favorite), and currently the boys are watching a lot of the <a href="http://www.hulu.com/the-a-team" target="_blank">A Team</a>.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">5. What one thing would you like your children to take into adulthood?</span><br />
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A relationship with God.<br />
<br />
Not a religion, not a church, a <b><i>relationship</i></b>. <br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">6. What does your family think of your blog?</span><br />
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The boys think that I know a million famous people and that I am a sort of superstar. Seriously.<br />
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It's trickier now though, because S1's friends are reading my blog - hmmmm, I imagine it's because they want to find out what my take is on the stories they are hearing from the boys - so I try to keep that in mind too.<br />
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They also say a lot more of, "Oh no! This is going on the blog, isn't it?"<br />
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My husband thinks it's great all the friends we have across the country now. <b>And he wishes it made me money.</b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">7. What would your dream vacation be?</span><br />
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Tricky tricky! Because I would love to travel and I am a total homebody so that is tricky....<br />
<br />
BUT, it would be amazingly wonderful to have motor home and travel across the country to visit my blogging and moved friends. Jake and I have talked about this over and over again. It would be great to see the places my friends talk about, the towns I have read about in books, the important places of history in our country. <br />
<br />
The boys want to go have dinner with the Robertson's of <a href="http://www.duckcommander.com/" target="_blank">Duck Dynasty</a>.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">8. What is your favorite midnight snack?</span><br />
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Ice cream.<br />
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I like ice cream with warm brownies or those break apart and bake cookies.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">9. What daily chore do you despise the most?</span><br />
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Daily chore would be cleaning up the kitchen after it was just clean until I got dinner done and now it is a huge mess again.<br />
<br />
Otherwise, it's folding socks. Dread socks.<br />
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Or the bathroom. Ick. But I try to keep our one and only bathroom clean so it's not overwhelming. That's tough when they decided to wash a muddy dump truck in the bathroom sink or a chicken is recovering in our bathtub from some near death experience.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">10. What advice would you give to a first time blogger?</span><br />
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Don't over think it.<br />
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If you want to blog, it's for a reason. If you are like me, you make up posts in your head and all the words get louder and louder and you don't get them to quiet down until you type them out. So type them out and push send. If nothing else, it is a great journal of your life.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">11. If you had 3 wishes what would you wish for?</span><br />
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I instantly think of Cinderella. <br />
<br />
Three wishes? I. Have. No. Idea.<br />
<br />
I am sure we could over think the three wishes thing but the lemon bars are done in the oven now and I am trying to wrap this up...<br />
<br />
Thanks for nominating me!!!!<br />
<br />
Oh, 11 blogs.<br />
<br />
How about this instead? Pick 11 blogs from my list of blogs I follow (it's embarrassingly long) and pick some you have never read and visit them for just one post to read. <br />
<br />
Maybe you will meet a new friend then!<br />
<br />
<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-17892426061254295292013-04-08T06:14:00.000-04:002013-04-08T07:12:45.393-04:00We Have Turned Into Miss Kay<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
On the last day of spring break, the sun shown brightly through the windows of my camouflage colored living room and I thought of all the things I had to do on my to do list. </div>
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It was a long list.</div>
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I stretched from my seat on the couch for my phone and sent a text to my mom asking about her cat who was due to have kittens this week. She sent a text back telling me to call her.</div>
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So I did.</div>
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And I began the conversation telling her I had a long list of things to accomplish and she said she did too so it would just be a quick conversation.</div>
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Two hours later.....</div>
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Seriously! I really do not care to talk on the phone. But I haven't talked to my mom for weeks and she has been to Florida and back and I haven't seen her in ages. </div>
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We are on the phone and she is telling me a play by play about her cat, Calli, who is about to have kittens, she is sure. She is telling me how the cat is acting and how she made a box for it and where she hopes the cat won't have kittens and how mean the dog has been to her cat this week and I am listening to all this because I am interested and asked about it.</div>
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As she is telling me how tight the cat's stomach is, I suddenly realize how long we've gone on about pets and I start dying laughing.</div>
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"Mom, you ARE Miss Kay!</div>
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<i>Image from <a href="http://starcasm.net/archives/180739" target="_blank">Starcasm</a></i></div>
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My mom knows I watch <a href="http://www.aetv.com/duck-dynasty/" target="_blank">Duck Dynasty</a> but she has only caught an episode so she didn't get the humor but I did and I was dying.</div>
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Recently, my husband called me in the morning to have a twenty minute conversation on the phone with me about someone he had found out watched <a href="http://www.aetv.com/duck-dynasty/" target="_blank">Duck Dynasty</a> - and liked it.</div>
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<i>Google Image. Visit <a href="http://www.duckcommander.com/" target="_blank">Duck Commander</a> for more information on the show.</i></div>
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"I mean," my husband explained to me, "We <b><i>get</i></b> that show. Those are our kind of people. But these other people who watch it, I mean, what do they get out of it?'</div>
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"We don't hunt ducks," I reminded him.</div>
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"That's beside the point," he argued, "We say the same phrases, do the same things, I mean, these are good ol boys who could be in our family. They even LOOK like they could be in your family."</div>
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And he's right. The beards are in my family and long before anyone ever thought beards were cool. My Dad has a big bushy curly beard, my uncle looks a little like Phil. People are scared of my family's mean looks, something I find ridiculous because my Dad? Kindest man, biggest heart, sweet spirit....</div>
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Oh my gosh, we <b><i>are</i></b> a Northern Duck Dynasty family!</div>
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And my mom is Miss Kay. And I may be <a href="http://denisedykstra.blogspot.com/2013/01/we-had-squirrel-for-dinner_7692.html" target="_blank">turning into her</a> too.....</div>
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Worse things could be said of us. </div>
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Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-40972749201521231462013-04-05T11:42:00.000-04:002013-04-05T11:42:30.354-04:00Depths of Despair<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://img.youtube.com/vi/czJi_FpLBYY/0.jpg"><param name="movie" value="http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/czJi_FpLBYY&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/czJi_FpLBYY&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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When I was a little girl (oh, this sounds so grammaish right now!) I loved the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Complete-Avonlea-Poplars-Rainbow-Ingleside/dp/0553609416" target="_blank">Anne of Green Gables</a> series. My parents got me the entire set one year for my birthday and I read them numerous times over. Then the movie came out and, oh my, I watched it a zillion and a half times.</div>
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When I am feeling down and out, I still refer to it as "the depths of despair" and then I always hear Marilla saying, "To despair is to turn ones back on God." Her voice sorta sets me back on the right path.</div>
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Winter is rough on me. I count down until the first day of spring. Our spring arrived with snow and cold. The last two weeks have been so wonderful to have SUNSHINE but it's still cold.</div>
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My attitude has been rotten. I keep trying to snap out of it, talk myself out being blue, list all my things joyful things (think <a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/" target="_blank">Ann Voskamp</a>), but really, it hasn't been working. And while our family is good and there IS so much to be thankful for, we have had a couple hard weeks. A tough month. It's more emotional than anything else but you know what, emotions are a big deal and when you are fighting the "depths of despair", it makes it even tougher.</div>
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I do not think I am the only one who suffers this. </div>
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I am coming out of it now. It's easier to laugh. I know it won't be long before I get some color from sunshine and wear dresses and heels again and dig my hands in therapeutic dirt as I work on flower beds. </div>
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All that leads me to this....</div>
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I have never read anything from <a href="http://jenhatmaker.com/" target="_blank">Jen Hatmaker</a>. I have friends who have told me I need to read her books but there is a STACK of books I have to read and I haven't gotten them all done. I keep saying "eventually" and wondering why I keep hearing her name come up.</div>
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Then I read THIS...<a href="http://jenhatmaker.com/blog/2013/04/02/stuck-in-the-doldrums-an-attack-plan" target="_blank">Stuck in the Doldrums: An Attack Plan.</a></div>
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I cheered. Her conversation with her husband? That. Is. Me.</div>
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Totally me.</div>
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I am not even exaggerating, totally. me.</div>
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So, in case there are others out there that are feeling blue, I am saying I know how you feel. And go read Jen's post because it is said so well I cannot duplicate it.</div>
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And cheer up! The sun IS shining. Spring <b><i>always</i></b> does come, eventually. This also means that I had better start walking the track in the morning to fit into the dresses I miss wearing so much.</div>
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And to quote <a href="http://www.redgreen.com/" target="_blank">Red Green</a>, "Remember, I'm pulling for you. We're all in this together."</div>
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<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-57883284286517748342013-04-04T20:19:00.000-04:002013-04-04T20:26:28.518-04:00A Weekend with SEVEN BoysI think that title just sums it all up.<br />
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Our great nephews - yes, they are GREAT and they are <i>great</i> - came to stay with us over Easter so their parents could get away for their 10th Anniversary.<br />
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Honestly, the weekend went amazingly well. We didn't even use an entire thing of <a href="http://www.neosporin.com/" target="_blank">Neosporin</a>! It may be the exhaustion talking but really, it was a ton of fun. <br />
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I spent most the time in the kitchen - shocker. I had stocked up on food. And An, being a foodie (really, she is the top dessert chef and baker at a well known restaurant) packed food. I mean, the boys arrived with a COOLER.<br />
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We found use for the cooler so I am really glad she sent it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5Ov_Oi2AVnsZAttV8WgZiSmv2jxJHICSCbYnnxcNVtJbxV6mkBcpkKmg4rmreO51el_sZKSF56gPIOA8cluFsogBW8OJiSpMap7qUJCXhEbQ9c3TMts5_NFFRByR2LjfKCS8aIJf6-0/s1600/IMG_5614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5Ov_Oi2AVnsZAttV8WgZiSmv2jxJHICSCbYnnxcNVtJbxV6mkBcpkKmg4rmreO51el_sZKSF56gPIOA8cluFsogBW8OJiSpMap7qUJCXhEbQ9c3TMts5_NFFRByR2LjfKCS8aIJf6-0/s320/IMG_5614.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<i>Coolers make great chairs, did you know?</i></div>
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I spent a great amount time in the kitchen. And most of the time the kitchen looked like this....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93poeyK3NdUOBJouco8ELOl6AdaET3IrLj3f8_aMgFH73qlChYwuadsDK5K4IZLgpRa7qyXEuJJi9DM2YPWZOkmMKTUpEYL80ddyH2sS6Edb1gRgey5unvbYgbAEDgPCJVR1sF9jgLqU/s1600/IMG_5617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93poeyK3NdUOBJouco8ELOl6AdaET3IrLj3f8_aMgFH73qlChYwuadsDK5K4IZLgpRa7qyXEuJJi9DM2YPWZOkmMKTUpEYL80ddyH2sS6Edb1gRgey5unvbYgbAEDgPCJVR1sF9jgLqU/s400/IMG_5617.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Notice the basket? An sent that too, filled with grown up goodies. She's lovely like that.</i></div>
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Do you notice how the sunshine streams into the kitchen, filling it with a cheery glow? The cheery glow forgot to clean my kitchen.</div>
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Our floors looked like this...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZV0XgUyqySHi1zEx51nuvJnwoJF7mF7M8Hd3zDodS65SJ5APDenbCcn5MAshCzPx_v9axsBjMRNvnHG_LyGotg7Z-GlffRMcXqhr_PvgIXacfQ88TucDTrMHxnRo_BE1gcSKWQtmVto/s1600/IMG_5629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZV0XgUyqySHi1zEx51nuvJnwoJF7mF7M8Hd3zDodS65SJ5APDenbCcn5MAshCzPx_v9axsBjMRNvnHG_LyGotg7Z-GlffRMcXqhr_PvgIXacfQ88TucDTrMHxnRo_BE1gcSKWQtmVto/s320/IMG_5629.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<i>The dart bullet is further proof of an all boy household. Well, except me. </i></div>
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In fact, the youngest at five, J informed me our floors were made of dirt. "No, honey," I explained sweetly, "I have only swept them twice today so they are only a little dirty. Not made of dirt." The photos shows you how much dirt one room had it in it. </div>
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Of course, if two of my boys weren't thinking it was cool to wear cleats outside and then back inside and three (yes, husband, calling you out) of my boys didn't wear big bulky boots in and out, they would have been cleaner.</div>
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But what's the sense in not wearing those?</div>
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We watched a lot of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0084967/" target="_blank">A Team</a>. The show? It is AWESOME to them. And I kept falling asleep when it was on and my husband wondered why I was so tired.</div>
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For real.</div>
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Meal times were the best.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5yj3AVxSC0_NgIdisRqSLY1KtDGrmydtNQIYZsQ6s99cYAqbm2vALAVU6LZvgfHqBCPwss0gDSrAMV_aIIpiPSbJXymCj-w0U2KI-mxFv803dfeob_o046xEMIs_eaUBbaHgfeowIJY0/s1600/IMG_5658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5yj3AVxSC0_NgIdisRqSLY1KtDGrmydtNQIYZsQ6s99cYAqbm2vALAVU6LZvgfHqBCPwss0gDSrAMV_aIIpiPSbJXymCj-w0U2KI-mxFv803dfeob_o046xEMIs_eaUBbaHgfeowIJY0/s400/IMG_5658.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Here are some dinner highlights....</div>
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J had to have lemon on his glass every. single. meal. And because he is J, he had lemon on his cup for every. single. meal.</div>
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One meal we spent a great deal of time guessing what J's favorite foods were. Thankfully it was mac and cheese, which we were having for lunch then.</div>
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A big debate at one meal time was what exactly should they do when they caught Big Foot. What cracked me up was that it wasn't even a question IF they would catch Big Foot, it was just what they would do when they did. </div>
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At dinner one night they suddenly began singing <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3VN54M1OXA" target="_blank">Convoy</a>. I don't know why. Then they began talking about how they used to think that the song was talking about flying black bears and grizzly bears in sky.</div>
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They weighed out the best way to have a food fight at school and not get caught. Not getting caught seemed to be trickier than they thought it would be, and I was relieved to hear that.</div>
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The Sunday they were with us, it was Easter sunday. We did not make it to sunrise service, although Jake and S1 and S2 made it to church at 5:30 to make breakfast. And I was up at five to get dinner done. We were only about ten minutes late to church breakfast - woohoo!</div>
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At the service, I looked down and saw this....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfUiXKn_doqFvzqIUrQKK7Kd5Tp4XlUMEvHfxcVF6_U7WzekHmksLbe9D3Sw2-w8YH-HYPEa50qn5dNMUMlhPCYQgVUd87uxHXWlZoGM7ceImD-oKUPFY4VOsx_vhDh75qE3OpfH7u6KU/s1600/IMG_5643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfUiXKn_doqFvzqIUrQKK7Kd5Tp4XlUMEvHfxcVF6_U7WzekHmksLbe9D3Sw2-w8YH-HYPEa50qn5dNMUMlhPCYQgVUd87uxHXWlZoGM7ceImD-oKUPFY4VOsx_vhDh75qE3OpfH7u6KU/s400/IMG_5643.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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It made my heart melt.</div>
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And wish for a good coffee with an extra shot of espresso. Okay, more than an extra shot.</div>
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But this? This photo I love ever so much....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYL8Ec04malu4qpUuTsdHMEK6DhVDUcBCNLVgHysrgHrdAU0z6pBBpard2j2RIR6ZtoiMBvyPWMwHQVri85wF_WfcD_QFfx716G4Itk1xWAJpB6VWDyGh7M01hJ13kEafowMX-PgBMBWQ/s1600/IMG_5662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYL8Ec04malu4qpUuTsdHMEK6DhVDUcBCNLVgHysrgHrdAU0z6pBBpard2j2RIR6ZtoiMBvyPWMwHQVri85wF_WfcD_QFfx716G4Itk1xWAJpB6VWDyGh7M01hJ13kEafowMX-PgBMBWQ/s400/IMG_5662.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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We "hillbilly-ified" the boys while they were with us.</div>
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We used a couch to say "only go this far in the driveway". Yes, a couch.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8hCOHAj8ibeRJsC_ExBs-rw7gulumKwYBzz1yhG9gB-9NwNKssN5XS5PtYNbQlKoLW66bQjXIZXiPv8ZEQ31J2zItEx3bM1ZqYnezcK_AJa8k-AV5FsRIaEEJ0l7m05fIWyXZlm3yro/s1600/IMG_5623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8hCOHAj8ibeRJsC_ExBs-rw7gulumKwYBzz1yhG9gB-9NwNKssN5XS5PtYNbQlKoLW66bQjXIZXiPv8ZEQ31J2zItEx3bM1ZqYnezcK_AJa8k-AV5FsRIaEEJ0l7m05fIWyXZlm3yro/s320/IMG_5623.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And then, as all hillbillies do, we burned the couch at night.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3x_8q2ENTgbBUWqCtQoI1zGmIxzdeDwky3t1BNMHNMkavaCeeo3yrQtphdBWkyfEtLbhLP2wA3S2r_yPyjF-LkW9XAF7j8fPldg6sqX4xCHDkkynrNZdpckLmbUwaD4xnn_Pv5Fux4jE/s1600/IMG_5636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3x_8q2ENTgbBUWqCtQoI1zGmIxzdeDwky3t1BNMHNMkavaCeeo3yrQtphdBWkyfEtLbhLP2wA3S2r_yPyjF-LkW9XAF7j8fPldg6sqX4xCHDkkynrNZdpckLmbUwaD4xnn_Pv5Fux4jE/s320/IMG_5636.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The boys never ever wanted to leave our house then.</div>
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We didn't have an Easter egg hunt - I can do only so much - but we did make dirt cake. I did not think to have gummy worms (how ever could I forget?) so J suggested we catch real worms. Fortunately, the ground is still frozen otherwise I really believe he would have.</div>
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A has severe food allergies and I am pretty sure he was sick and tired of hearing me say, "Are you sure you can eat this?" If you have a child with food allergies...God bless you. What extra patience and creativity and wisdom you must be granted!</div>
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At night the boys giggled and laughed and wrestled and yelled until they fell exhausted asleep. I made beds for them, they mostly slept on the floor.</div>
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During the day the door slammed about five hundred million times. They quickly learned our front screen door requires kicking to open (seriously, it does) and that was all kinds of fun.</div>
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An sent a cooler and two bags of food. I loaded up at the grocery store before they arrived. I only needed two more runs to the store while they were here. </div>
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They arrived on Friday morning, they left on Monday night. These boys had never stayed more than a few hours at our home before, and always with their mom or both their parents. They left in a flurry and silence fell over the house.</div>
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I waved goodbye to my extra boys and they didn't see me.</div>
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I shuffled back to the kitchen to finish cleaning up. My husband didn't miss a beat. "You miss them already, don't you?'</div>
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I sniffed. And nodded.</div>
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It was a great weekend. One I drank a lot of coffee over but a great weekend. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXc3TSUGhk9aDVuBT6GeioEiMbFrB-dmn74PsPY7uRvt9aPULpiWwZr4sLmPvXF1G3zaYdREBEDlS7onrslbHcf9iNQW8fbUKiLcnx8DYr8zDPn_L0Qmu-AxwRz3_U19vOC3l5s8tPgkw/s1600/IMG_5681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXc3TSUGhk9aDVuBT6GeioEiMbFrB-dmn74PsPY7uRvt9aPULpiWwZr4sLmPvXF1G3zaYdREBEDlS7onrslbHcf9iNQW8fbUKiLcnx8DYr8zDPn_L0Qmu-AxwRz3_U19vOC3l5s8tPgkw/s400/IMG_5681.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>S4, Whiskers Gray and J. </i></div>
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<i>So sorry, An, pretty sure J is going to need a bunny now.</i></div>
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<i>And you all can thank me for telling you no bathroom or stinky stories. But let's just say that having one bathroom is no fun. And S may have gone home to tell his mother dear, "I have heard it said and it's probably true...Too much bathing, it will weaken you." Hey, we did what we had to!</i></div>
Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-66396822699312380572013-03-27T15:32:00.002-04:002013-03-27T16:19:53.371-04:00Our Home Was VandalizedI stood in the middle of our dining room, itching all over and refusing to sit anywhere.<br />
<br />
Something in our house was "off". <br />
<br />
The yardstick we had above a door walkway lay on the ground.<br />
<br />
A vase with dried roses was trampled on the floor.<br />
<br />
The Wild Boar's head still grinned at us, but his sombrero had been knocked off. (The Boar was feeling festive recently.)<br />
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When I went into the kitchen I realized the window ledge had been cleared of all the little glass treasures I have collected and they lay smashed to pieces in the sink below.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlsS4xYM6XYXPQFY6w-CU3Trmcw20igBMZkh17gfUouwwAnF7UBl3UnyAFet64bmBz1SmVM0JHYMLaXDN_W4fuFSDztVlQbqezCAklkDIriCw4wPWsEZD5rg6xj3vi01Ml_sMg-gt8Qqc/s1600/IMG_5595.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlsS4xYM6XYXPQFY6w-CU3Trmcw20igBMZkh17gfUouwwAnF7UBl3UnyAFet64bmBz1SmVM0JHYMLaXDN_W4fuFSDztVlQbqezCAklkDIriCw4wPWsEZD5rg6xj3vi01Ml_sMg-gt8Qqc/s400/IMG_5595.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
The day before, S1 had gone upstairs to do his school work and immediately came back down. "Would you believe me if I said a bird was in my bedroom?"<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbfXKLK9vLAAIxeUjm7SuU4oz2pqilkc4EDnLZMJuDGYlIQxjms5C91d1mETCmXv1XHkbwluRCK87d1NgJffQwtYK5kv5X42w_TxpPXg-rqgxp8efX65U3_VB9q31C95IUHYUnWaowSE/s1600/IMG_5581.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbfXKLK9vLAAIxeUjm7SuU4oz2pqilkc4EDnLZMJuDGYlIQxjms5C91d1mETCmXv1XHkbwluRCK87d1NgJffQwtYK5kv5X42w_TxpPXg-rqgxp8efX65U3_VB9q31C95IUHYUnWaowSE/s320/IMG_5581.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I looked at his face. "I am going to have to say, yah, I do."<br />
<br />
The bird had flown into a window when we were trying to catch it and it killed itself. <br />
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All I could figure is that another bird must be in the house as well.<br />
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How? I blame the littlest two but really, we have no idea how.<br />
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I worked on cleaning the broken glass as I thought of how insane our dog must have been acting as the bird had flown around the house trying to get out. We searched high and low and found...nothing.<br />
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Today I had the day off and I was determined to find this vicious vandalizing bird. My favorite drinking glass was broken, my little figurine from my Great Grandma's was smashed and my antique bud vase in darkest cobalt blue had its neck snapped off.<br />
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I sat on a stool in my kitchen, eating my cream of wheat, straining to hear any sound. <br />
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It sorta felt like I was stuck in a horror movie and I needed music to let me know if something bad was about to happen.<br />
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I sent a text to my friend, Alicia. "Remind me NOT to watch Alfred Hitchcock's movie <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MZjaVdJt59U" target="_blank">The Birds</a>."<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Lw0FP9putKM?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
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<i>The fluttering sound as she reaches the door? EXACT same sound behind my basement door.</i></div>
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I heard a fluttering and it sounded like it was in my laundry room so I literally tore the laundry room apart. In doing so, I found I may have hoarding tendencies. I had armloads of empty boxes in there. But you just never know when you may need a box! And if you need a small one, hey, I have one for you.<br />
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Even vacuuming behind the washer and dryer didn't turn up any clues. I sat on the, dejected. I was jumping at any fluttering I would see from the corner of my eye and straining to hear any odd noise.<br />
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I was hoping my dog would be on high alert as well. She was snoring but I fully expected her to come to my rescue.<br />
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Looking down into my scary basement and hoping nothing was down there, I heard a fluttering so close to my ear it knocked me over. <br />
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Where is that soundtrack music to life I keep asking for?<br />
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Behind our authentic 1900 basement door there was banging and fluttering. The door is always open and kept open by a small bookshelf in front of it. There was a small area behind the door and in that small area, there was a vandalizing bird.<br />
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I began moving the bookshelf filled with containers we use for leftover food from dinner (there hardly ever is any use for them), cake carriers and thermos' for games and beach days. Calling S1 down to help me, he eased the door open (or shut, if are me standing in the laundry room).<br />
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In S1's hands was a large net. He could have caught the tension in the air. <br />
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The <a href="http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/common_grackle/id" target="_blank">grackle bird</a> darted out and flew drunkenly around the kitchen. It knocked things off my clean window sill - ironically my little sign that reads "In Everything Give Thanks" had survived the assault of the day before as well as the assault today - and the bird stopped at the window to catch plan it's next attack.<br />
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Being blogging mindful, I squeaked out to S1 who was about to drop the net on the bird, "Wait! Let me get a picture!"<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxYwSsVpPIRIf8LM5YvUBhawkKByi28I_5kqZGlk3gOW1IuKa11nIHr_q1Ex125B1PY2uUgtTPhjCnXCIrAfbxnZRHciZjG4IHViaVkHmNWRWI_szPTBWsD4DgXyhVcamfUdQi7d08hA/s1600/IMG_5604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxYwSsVpPIRIf8LM5YvUBhawkKByi28I_5kqZGlk3gOW1IuKa11nIHr_q1Ex125B1PY2uUgtTPhjCnXCIrAfbxnZRHciZjG4IHViaVkHmNWRWI_szPTBWsD4DgXyhVcamfUdQi7d08hA/s400/IMG_5604.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>You're welcome. I knew you would want to see this photo.</i></div>
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The bird was caught, the house is now safe and rid of birds, my laundry room and basement walkway have not been this clean since I was nesting with S4 and my nerves have been sedated by the immense amount of <a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2007/06/cinammon_rolls_/" target="_blank">cinnamon rolls</a> I then made to recover from this trauma. The dog snored through it all, missing the excitement and the sombrero is atop the wild boar's head again.<br />
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Never ever <i><b>ever</b></i> a dull moment here.Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-86374659093939639762013-03-14T15:35:00.004-04:002013-03-14T15:35:35.939-04:00The Pee TalkI write this cautiously.<br />
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I don't really want to share this with you but since the boys keep telling the story and anyone who hears it doubles over in laughter and then says, "Now, there's a blog post for you!" I am typing this out to you.<br />
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Those of you with just daughters may not understand this blog post and should read with caution.<br />
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I am often asked for S3 updates. There aren't nearly as many blog posts or facebook updates with him because he lives in a world all his own. He's friends with everyone and most anything just rolls off his back. He talks the least of all the boys and hugs the most. He has, by far, learned how to annoy his brothers the best.<br />
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Well, here is a S3 story for you.<br />
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On a bright sunny day, my boys boarded the big yellow school bus and began the hour long ride home. Because we live in the country, we have a lot of dirt roads around here. Friends of ours recently returned from Africa, as in the wilds of Africa where they make a day long trip into a city to purchase groceries for the next weeks of living in the middle of nowhere they lived. When they have traveled the dirt roads near our home they have declared them by far worse than the roads they traveled in Africa. <br />
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That is some bad rough pot holed roads.<br />
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My boys bounced around in this bus. Often kids stand just to take the shock off their spines in bouncing on the bus. My S3 kept asking Mandy, our friend as well as great bus driver, how much longer until they arrived home. Most kids DO ask "how much further?" but she was even surprised at him continually asking her.<br />
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As they pulled to a stop in front of the house, I watched from my kitchen window as my darling boys hopped off the bus and ran for the driveway.<br />
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Except S3 stopped soon after taking a few running steps into the yard. He dropped his backpack, unzipped his zipper and let the pee flow.<br />
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Yes, my son, in the broad daylight, with the bus stopped at our driveway and a line of vehicles (oddly, even Mandy commented on that) waiting for the bus to move on, stood there peeing.<br />
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The other boys, laughing, ran from him.<br />
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S3 didn't care a bit. Back arched, I could swear I could hear him saying "ahhhhhh" as he finally was able to pee after being jostled around on the bus for an hour.<br />
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Mandy tried to put the bus in gear as quickly as possible to drive away but she said she was laughing so hard and when the few kids on the bus did realize what they were doing, they all started laughing too.<br />
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I had a strict talking to with S3. I informed him that if he had to pee so badly he couldn't make it into the house (boys...they feel the whole world is their urinal!) then at least wait until he made it to the pine trees so they were shielding him as he peed.<br />
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He agreed solemnly.<br />
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Yesterday, I picked the boys up from school. S3 was the first to make it into the suburban and after he had climbed in his seat in the back, I hopped out to chat a quick second to a friend of mine two vehicles over. When I got back in the suburban, S3 was gone. His brothers were all climbing in and he wasn't there. <br />
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Suddenly, he was climbing back into the suburban, stepping on his brothers as he climbed over the seat again. "Where were you?" I asked, shocked.<br />
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"I had to pee. Don't worry. I stood behind a snow bank this time."<br />
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So glad that "pee" talk really stuck with him.Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-29854173438108975162013-03-06T07:50:00.000-05:002013-03-06T07:50:00.422-05:00We Did NOT Eat Opossum for DinnerDear Readers,<br />
<br />
This post could also be titled <i><b>I Need A Girls Day!</b></i><br />
<br />
Big sigh...and so the story begins....<br />
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We have been working hard to remodel our living room. We painted the walls and tore out the carpet and now it resembles a cabin. A man cave. The walls have photos of hunting and football hanging on them. It really does look great.<br />
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The floor was uneven so my husband to take the snap in place floors up, sand the floor down a little and add some floor concrete something or another to make it more even. <br />
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The sanding caused the house to be covered in dust. As in, nasty, thick icky awful dust. The. Entire, House.<br />
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But the living room looks amazing.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV9RA9rleYPPcBLhMQ6l2X3A10_GyGODwEqSPwtGKZWQoGIOQtBRyETm0G1Zm7X77StfIorVpwGwB7hONJ-OnMN_joIxMG4NFi9I59AEEN5boEZ2rQhH7NOMtcY3b1b2jo44ugSM0f9qI/s1600/IMG_5424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV9RA9rleYPPcBLhMQ6l2X3A10_GyGODwEqSPwtGKZWQoGIOQtBRyETm0G1Zm7X77StfIorVpwGwB7hONJ-OnMN_joIxMG4NFi9I59AEEN5boEZ2rQhH7NOMtcY3b1b2jo44ugSM0f9qI/s400/IMG_5424.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiecQmzfifMtsLIAUi7RvgNv7awvtF2ptQsrYXPIRkDVQoI7qFE2ETipHBhrj6j_oRO0TFbdN-tad2wdgnt0baNQgft6LqqbJeOFKHbo9gUrghl6zieA9RB0RYfYs7D2MAu7axk6VI7Gsc/s1600/IMG_5425.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiecQmzfifMtsLIAUi7RvgNv7awvtF2ptQsrYXPIRkDVQoI7qFE2ETipHBhrj6j_oRO0TFbdN-tad2wdgnt0baNQgft6LqqbJeOFKHbo9gUrghl6zieA9RB0RYfYs7D2MAu7axk6VI7Gsc/s400/IMG_5425.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>And, yes, I took photos to document it being clean.</i></div>
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So, I am standing on a stool, washing a boar's head and I suddenly stop to think, "This is the weirdest thing I <b>never</b> imagined myself doing."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-sRNmAHoT0wogZu0j7eCmrA0TAXoshyphenhyphenUy_gtz96FZlTKi2V4An75NbKFYzKgAfOwMte7fHbEInpkQK6eaAFuj2pPJHtXY3hjIgDVYhIheSe4rGF3YCY7bYjI2FpsQMnv6n1zrhc5nlvM/s1600/IMG_5422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-sRNmAHoT0wogZu0j7eCmrA0TAXoshyphenhyphenUy_gtz96FZlTKi2V4An75NbKFYzKgAfOwMte7fHbEInpkQK6eaAFuj2pPJHtXY3hjIgDVYhIheSe4rGF3YCY7bYjI2FpsQMnv6n1zrhc5nlvM/s400/IMG_5422.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It was about to get crazier.</span></div>
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The <a href="http://www.cabelas.com/">Cabela</a>'s catalog arrived in the mail. Suddenly, I find myself debating over whether we would get a camouflage toilet seat and a bone collector shower curtain - in our <i><b>only</b></i> bathroom.</div>
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And I think, "How does this happen?" because it looks like it just MIGHT happen.</div>
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As the conversation after dinner dwindled on this subject, S1 grabbed the pot of chicken scraps and headed out to the chicken coop for our four chickens that have survived the raccoon massacre last summer. Jake and I were chatting when the door burst open and slammed against the cabinet I hold all my glass things on - nothing dropped.</div>
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"PossumInTheChickenCoopGetThe22," he rushed in one breath.</div>
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S1 and Jake quickly loaded up their guns and ran outside. Here is how S1 tells the story....</div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"It started when I was carrying out a pot of chicken scraps and I had this weird feeling something was in there so I kept my flashlight away from the window to not care what might be in there so I get ready to dump out the chicken scraps when I thought I would shine my light around in the corner was an opossum. So I put down the pot, run to the house and grab gun. Dad came with me and I shot it in the neck "all done" I think to myself when Dad asked me if there are any more. I thought tat was crazy at first then turning, I see another one. I quickly reload and shot it in the head. I make a thorough search of the chicken coop after shooting that one. We walked up to the house and got pictures taken and I finally took out the chicken scraps again, checking that I missed no other opossums to surprise me."</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWyRNq7LvIQUMQ8-60GiCCvzoKmQvjm0vQYWRsJsNQop4eURbzmA1UqWRIryaOTbVW5xJzyk6_8iqIo7UeAtzBzCeB6v-fS1Vos3r6D7MoEGQyRCULemBWsGEKWqVNsIXyKolMZj3sD7I/s1600/IMG_5428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWyRNq7LvIQUMQ8-60GiCCvzoKmQvjm0vQYWRsJsNQop4eURbzmA1UqWRIryaOTbVW5xJzyk6_8iqIo7UeAtzBzCeB6v-fS1Vos3r6D7MoEGQyRCULemBWsGEKWqVNsIXyKolMZj3sD7I/s640/IMG_5428.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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I would not let the opossums come into the house. They left the nasty, sharp teethed varmints in the snow beside the kitchen door. The next morning, the other boys had to check them out. S3 tentatively was checking to see if they were dead and S4 hissed, making S3 jump back and the other brothers double over in laughter. </div>
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The boys asked if we could have the possums for dinner that night.</div>
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"No!" I shuddered.</div>
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"Oh come on, we ate <a href="http://denisedykstra.blogspot.com/2013/02/we-are-eating-roadkill-for-dinner.html">roadkill</a>!"</div>
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"This is nastier. No," I answered. </div>
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At work, Jake called and teased we should have some for dinner. "No!" I answered determinedly.</div>
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Friends stopped in and asked me seriously, SERIOUSLY, if I was going to cook them up for supper.</div>
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"No!" I shrieked.</div>
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My husband arrived home from work, "Hey!" he bellowed through the house, "How are we supposed to eat those possums if they ain't skinned yet?"</div>
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The boys rolled their eyes at me and sighed dejectedly. "Mama won't let us," the moaned.</div>
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What a mean Mama I am.</div>
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I posted this on facebook....</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><i>I keep finding myself saying this today - "No! No, I am NOT cooking opossum for dinner! No, it is not coming into the house! Yes, we ate roadkill but NO opossum!"</i></span></div>
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<i style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">These are words I never thought I would say.</i><br />
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It got quite the response. My brother in law said, "Just eat the dang thing. You know you want to."</div>
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No. No, I do not want to.</div>
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Someone, someone save me!!! You all keep me here and I keep posting these stories for you but really, I could use tea at <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/downtonabbey/" target="_blank">Downton Abbey</a> and all that formality to help balance this all out.</div>
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<a href="http://www.marpop.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/Downton-Abbey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://www.marpop.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/Downton-Abbey.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Sincerely,</div>
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Your blogging friend who refuses to eat opossum</div>
Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-48312997339853546832013-03-05T17:00:00.000-05:002013-03-05T20:52:04.802-05:00Garden Gate Cafe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><b>(Written in January)</b></i></div>
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Today I visited the most adorable cafe and met the most energetic sweet people.</div>
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Perhaps it's because I have a head cold of huge proportions.</div>
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Or perhaps because I am in a sugar coma.</div>
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Whatever the reason, I cannot seem to make any of the words I want to say about this place make any sense or do it any form of justice.</div>
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So I am going to ramble out a blog post for you. Sorry, all of you are my therapy. I cannot post it until February 1st when the magazine goes live but I'll include a link at the end of this so you can read what ends up being printed.</div>
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And so I give you....</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: magenta; font-size: large;">Garden Gate Cafe</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgok-erbNFD3CoFJu_cNE2yu0jYE5t6Yp-9D9S1mDJhxEdx4MohwXjxRXBqeUhfuUox7-mpN5UuCaf8bJp7BD9bwMeHoxsDJlrno9PavCVKRYQzFeV9dNQ5cpc-1CQUeaveLdjhYXCuDqY/s1600/IMG_4894.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgok-erbNFD3CoFJu_cNE2yu0jYE5t6Yp-9D9S1mDJhxEdx4MohwXjxRXBqeUhfuUox7-mpN5UuCaf8bJp7BD9bwMeHoxsDJlrno9PavCVKRYQzFeV9dNQ5cpc-1CQUeaveLdjhYXCuDqY/s400/IMG_4894.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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I had heard about Garden Gate Cafe but did not recall why. When I looked up their facebook page I noticed friends who liked them and when I asked a mom's opinion I knew would give me the honest truth about the place, she admitted she just wanted to get there but hadn't made it there yet. I knew the place would involve cupcakes...but that's all I knew.</div>
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Wednesday dawned bright and sunny and found me squinting in the bright sunshine. My head was a foggy pounding sinus headache mess. I consciously was making an effort to think full complete thoughts but they kept getting lost in the fogginess of the my head cold. I wasn't sure what sort of first impression I would make, but I didn't think it would be my best ever. Especially when I drove past the place twice looking for a parking spot and finally had to park in the parking ramp (when you visit there, do that. Just park in the ramp. Notice I said WHEN because you must go here.)</div>
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Upon entering, I was taken back to happy spring time. I walked in and physically relaxed. This is my sort of place. Instantly they greeted me and offered me something to drink, I said water was just fine but really, their tea mugs were so adorable and the tea bags enchanting. I should have chosen tea.</div>
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Learn from my mistake.</div>
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I wasn't there to take photos but I just had to. The above photo is of Shann who quit her job as a Dental Hygienist to work for Nancy at the Garden Gate Cafe because she loves this place that much. Nancy and Shann did not even know each other before working together. "I have always dreamed of baking and nothing is better than lovin' on people with food. Food draws people together."</div>
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Shann spoke the words of my heart.</div>
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Shann had on the most adorable rolling pin apron. She told me Santa took good care of her this year. As he should have. She was as kind as could be, wishing me a speedy recovery before she rushed off to the kitchen but not after sitting down to chat with me.</div>
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Here is a sampling of their food....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwWve6tZBRgDtEVaeSk3pIy_F7Kylw_2JeKtpZiNpcUHYfOURWPXvjFFGEmck74SLdZkUlvOWDdtI13vue7i2X3jYq9emRH6sXnUpueGq3ygleqtBGUfzjupmHQv5QBSE6myCa37w5qbg/s1600/IMG_4893.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwWve6tZBRgDtEVaeSk3pIy_F7Kylw_2JeKtpZiNpcUHYfOURWPXvjFFGEmck74SLdZkUlvOWDdtI13vue7i2X3jYq9emRH6sXnUpueGq3ygleqtBGUfzjupmHQv5QBSE6myCa37w5qbg/s400/IMG_4893.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Katie, our photographer who I consider a friend and am so grateful to know, was thrilled to have so many options to photograph. Usually we are left alone to talk amongst our selves and sometimes to feel as intruders. Not so here. She was snapping photos to her hearts content and I was making new dear friends as I sat at the table and chatted with Nancy, the owner.</div>
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How did this energetic woman sitting across from me go from being an educator to owning a cafe?</div>
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Nancy went to visit her daughter who had a boutique in Chicago. Nancy looked around and said, "Yes. This is what I want to do." Six months later she and her husband, Doug, opened an antiques store in Schoolcraft, Michigan. They were still teaching and working the store and within a year they had moved from a tiny shop to a house in town to sell their antiques.</div>
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Because if you are into antiques <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', adobe-times, Times; font-size: 18px; line-height: 20px;">Shipshewana</span>, Indiana is really the place to be, they closed the shop in Schoolcraft and opened a store there. Not long after that, the little cafe across the street from their shop closed and Nancy thought, "Hmmm, a cafe sounds fun."</div>
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So she opened a cafe.</div>
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Nancy is a ball of energy. I am quite convinced this woman can do whatever she puts her mind to and would have all kinds of fun accomplishing it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-OGhaio5rUR8WviRLuUNjxMowuoMwlJ0xHriiZz6x25iM2Gb90auSAhyF0wZOoMWA6ZinnMfDA0m9IEPfdH50s38V6LoXjCp_amGcZ1aUmkVlhwn6hoIE6FzMtKXm_SXZPyABG7H_qoI/s1600/IMG_4895.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-OGhaio5rUR8WviRLuUNjxMowuoMwlJ0xHriiZz6x25iM2Gb90auSAhyF0wZOoMWA6ZinnMfDA0m9IEPfdH50s38V6LoXjCp_amGcZ1aUmkVlhwn6hoIE6FzMtKXm_SXZPyABG7H_qoI/s400/IMG_4895.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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How cute are their lights????</div>
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They describe their food as "Like Grandma used to make, but better."</div>
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Their slogan is - Garden Gate Cafe, Where the food is great and the fun never ends.</div>
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Nancy just bubbled in her joy over her cafe. She shared with me how they deliver lunches to neighboring businesses and corporations by way of little red wagons. They have special cupcake and cookie decorating times for the kids. They hold parties after hours for groups and showers and birthdays. They donate cupcakes regularly.</div>
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Looking for ways they can be involved and help their community is important to Nancy and Doug. They are currently selling their beautiful farm in Schoolcraft (that has hosted weddings and has an antique shop) to spend their time and energy in downtown Kalamazoo. Nancy lived in downtown Kalamazoo in 71 and she says she has never seen downtown so alive. </div>
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The cafe sings of friendliness and warmth. You can't buy that. You can't fake that. This group of women love their work so much it seems like an extension of themselves. The college students and others who they hire to help their bustling business (they cater weddings regularly) have to have a certain spark.</div>
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They sent me home with lunch - on the house, anything I wanted. They had given me so much of their time so I chose something they had all ready to go in the case. A chicken ranch wrap. </div>
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It was a great choice.</div>
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Then they sent me home with three cupcakes. The Cherry Almond one I am writing about in the magazine - a cherry explosion of moist yumminess with the comforting after taste of almond -, a cupcake filled with Bailey's, and a cupcake filled with peanut butter (swoon). Just for good measure they sent me home with one of Doug's (Nancy's husband) famous chocolate chip cookies.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNw_JEtvHkYD9j56MWtnESpa9zdrFMW8NxQbiUecS8dzj17jKhyphenhyphenZkcp2u7stp0rvCaeNn4V7PdUyTdEmTKxmr0ghkW0tHkXnZWgsMr6m5-11pHOnIR3q_4RrL5CT6WXW-_2buI2DFuKGU/s1600/IMG_4899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNw_JEtvHkYD9j56MWtnESpa9zdrFMW8NxQbiUecS8dzj17jKhyphenhyphenZkcp2u7stp0rvCaeNn4V7PdUyTdEmTKxmr0ghkW0tHkXnZWgsMr6m5-11pHOnIR3q_4RrL5CT6WXW-_2buI2DFuKGU/s400/IMG_4899.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I spent the morning with my body half turned away from them, not wanting them to catch my nasty head cold. But when I left they rubbed my arm as a dear friend would and wished me well. I felt filled with warmth as I left their cozy country cottage cafe and walked toward the parking garage. I can not wait to return.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc9dNKZgqz7QacA2HvOpwD5Gb6Zqll0cwLKdSR3fxSKomByAMvhAHdlMMo2W09sv8k4V4pCLpb23PvI60J3-DpRNDpZkFBoXTmuVVxo3NmcD5PuZpekbH5a1ygILW6I1qxcJ6Vj_8IIRA/s1600/IMG_4900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc9dNKZgqz7QacA2HvOpwD5Gb6Zqll0cwLKdSR3fxSKomByAMvhAHdlMMo2W09sv8k4V4pCLpb23PvI60J3-DpRNDpZkFBoXTmuVVxo3NmcD5PuZpekbH5a1ygILW6I1qxcJ6Vj_8IIRA/s400/IMG_4900.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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How cute is THIS hanging on the wall?</div>
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Garden Gate Cafe</div>
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230 South Kalamazoo Mall</div>
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Kalamazoo, Michigan</div>
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49007</div>
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269-532-1692</div>
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Open Seven days a week except closed on Sundays in January and February</div>
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10 am to 4 pm</div>
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Offering a full Gluten Free Menu</div>
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Gluten Free food is prepared at Gluten Free Sensations in Three Rivers, Michigan</div>
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Cupcakes - Cookies - Whoopie Pies and Muffins</div>
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Lunch and Brunch served</div>
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HUGE variety of soups</div>
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And....while I was there THREE separate men walked into the cafe to order food. Evidence that this place makes good good good food - like Grandma's, but better. </div>
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Garden Gate Cafe <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Garden-Gate-Cafe-Kalamazoo/218701700789?fref=ts" target="_blank">Facebook Page</a></div>
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<a href="http://homes.yahoo.com/Michigan/Schoolcraft/5824-w-xy-ave:0a6ff54100297af3dc63897bcae69d86;_ylt=ArYuGipRJFStuWICwNr__lVn47Qs" target="_blank">Friendship Farm</a> that is now for sale.</div>
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Read the finished article in Women's Lifestyle Magazine of Greater Kalamazoo</div>
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<a href="http://digital.zoompubs.com/publication/?m=2516&l=1&p=13">HERE</a></div>
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You can pick up a FREE magazine at many Kalamazoo locations. I choose <a href="http://www.biggby.com/locations/" target="_blank">Biggby</a>. </div>
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<i>PS</i></div>
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<i>A week later, sick as could be still, my mom and I went here for lunch.</i></div>
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<i>We were greeted warmly, even though they were very obviously in a rush. </i></div>
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<i>The wagons went out to deliver lunch.</i></div>
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<i>Huge displays of cupcakes were getting ready to be sent out.</i></div>
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<i>My mom and I ordered two lunches to split between the two of them. I ordered tea. My mom ordered coffee. I think my tea would have been phenominal if my mom hadn't continually said, "This coffee is sooooooo good."</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik0d9Avba-3oLedvYSBP2HCFg2avMlpPIi79KBURHvNPglvY8ddJEaVvw8fOFmVj_HC22CZzENbEU4jzHqzslXKy8Czu_2Bb0q0sDuWr9YzNr2Yhvgu-KmEHRiT68VH6z9GcBaBvr3I_U/s1600/IMG_4953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik0d9Avba-3oLedvYSBP2HCFg2avMlpPIi79KBURHvNPglvY8ddJEaVvw8fOFmVj_HC22CZzENbEU4jzHqzslXKy8Czu_2Bb0q0sDuWr9YzNr2Yhvgu-KmEHRiT68VH6z9GcBaBvr3I_U/s320/IMG_4953.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>The little adorable cup and pot are tea. The mug is coffee. I oohed over the colors.</i></div>
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<i>The slice of something? Red Velvet whoopie pie to try.</i></div>
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<i>My mom and I split a salad and a chicken salad sandwich on pretzel bread.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiImMqRczqAPiWaZwxc1sWlxgklKLKTm_P-ePSvfI7aVWMT-4IZvQhdT6myR3N0TOBpQ92GmwdEg5Lg8KDpgjSZTQt5ibHsxYjV9QlUrVcCi_Qox1BGPKwQMO7D-E_P6zO70eGHLFY7Pqk/s1600/IMG_4954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiImMqRczqAPiWaZwxc1sWlxgklKLKTm_P-ePSvfI7aVWMT-4IZvQhdT6myR3N0TOBpQ92GmwdEg5Lg8KDpgjSZTQt5ibHsxYjV9QlUrVcCi_Qox1BGPKwQMO7D-E_P6zO70eGHLFY7Pqk/s320/IMG_4954.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<i>Had I just had the salad, I would have raved over it. I would have gone on and on and on about how yummy it is. But I ate the sandwich and I nearly cried when it was done. That sandwich was divine.</i></div>
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<i>The salad was super wonderfully delicious too. It makes me wish I hadn't tried the sandwich.</i></div>
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<i>Except the sandwich was that good.</i></div>
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<i>We got a few cupcakes to take home because we were stuffed.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5mrJeC_UyWzCNe9P_RHtElzc-xZkAOVaWOTtQIgzgo9tgIKVc7DYH2VxJCnnJMBjzSsUEHcYH8RlmPO0yAC5oDAduIcCm1di8NTnBc9p8Yra7hFATKc43Hs54Ai4PYnWrltp6ClnBHOQ/s1600/IMG_4955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5mrJeC_UyWzCNe9P_RHtElzc-xZkAOVaWOTtQIgzgo9tgIKVc7DYH2VxJCnnJMBjzSsUEHcYH8RlmPO0yAC5oDAduIcCm1di8NTnBc9p8Yra7hFATKc43Hs54Ai4PYnWrltp6ClnBHOQ/s320/IMG_4955.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<i>The sprinkle ones were beer cupcakes. </i></div>
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<i>One may wrinkle their nose at that but I seriously believe those cupcakes helped make me well.</i></div>
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<i>Seriously.</i></div>
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<i>The other is a peanut butter one and a chocolate cherry one (that one was for S1 at home alone while we were out.)</i></div>
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<i>My only sadness of this day is, well, two fold, I was still sick and so foggy in the head. Second, no photos of my mom and I. How did we do that????</i></div>
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<i>The place got packed! And oddly enough, the photographer I work with at the magazine showed up with her husband and son for lunch too! She was impressed too!</i></div>
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<i>Visit there. Pronto.</i></div>
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<i>Garden Gate Cafe and their staff simply can not disappoint.</i></div>
Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-54706082282359647482013-02-28T07:19:00.000-05:002013-02-28T07:19:00.067-05:00Drive Safe, Ride Safe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
One of my <a href="http://denisedykstra.blogspot.com/2011/05/night-road-by-kristin-hannah.html">biggest fears</a> as the boys get older is the day that they will take the keys and drive themselves.</div>
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Who forgets when they get their license? Or the first time they are alone behind the wheel?</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Or their first accident?</span></div>
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I want to do whatever I can to help my boys avoid having an accident and Kelly, who sent me the video <a href="http://www.drivesaferidesafe.com/order/">Roadworthy</a>, said that it had made her boys (she has four too!) better RIDERS.</div>
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<a href="http://www.drivesaferidesafe.com/order/"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.drivesaferidesafe.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/dvd1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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That sounded great to me. What better time to teach them then before they ever get the keys?</div>
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I told S1 and S2 that they had to <b><i>actively</i></b> watch this movie. S2 took it very seriously and even wrote down notes.</div>
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I did not expect that my husband and I would learn anything. </div>
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Was I ever wrong!</div>
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It's a driving instructional video so you expect it to be what it is. But it did a great job of explaining things. It explained why the information given to us was important. It told you what to look for when riding or driving. It made a point of telling you this was important business ("When is your teenager ready to drive? When you feel they can be trusted with a two thousand pound missile.")</div>
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It gave you fact advice like this....</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/8LvkuxoxPLE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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What I appreciated here is that it tells you "You can die" but it doesn't make it so scary that you don't want to get behind the wheel. You need to have a healthy balance and I think Mike pulled it off here.</div>
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The day after watching this, my husband was texting me to see if I had tightened my seat belt and adjusted my mirrors. </div>
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And he wasn't joking.</div>
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I was curious what my two oldest boys, one just (gulp) two years from driving and one just nearly eleven years old. Here is what they had to say, in their exact words...</div>
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S1 - "It was pretty cool how all the steps were to be better driver and other kids are in teh same boat as me as far as ways they want to do it and stuff and it takes practice. It was cool about how to hold a steering wheel - I didn't know about that - and that your side mirror, when you go and turn, and if it's just a little bit past it you will be fine when turning."</div>
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He thinks it's more parent based and not kid based but he thinks that his friends should watch this video "just so they know all the steps and everything".</div>
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S2 - "What I liked was how they taught it. They demonstrated it because they were in a real car, and they showed models and they had toy little cars. What I learned was, how to turn a car so I won't hit anything, you have to have your right or left mirror past the object you will pass or turn on. It taught you all these safety precautions, how to prevent having accidents. It told me a lot about how to be a good driver when I can drive, like listen to my mom and dad and pull your seat belt up and make sure your mirrors are in the right position. And what to do if you are going to be an accident."</div>
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<i>(I secretly want the page where he took notes because it really says, "Listen to my mom and dad." That's framable.)</i></div>
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I really cannot recommend this video enough. I am going to be passing it around to S1's friends parents so they can watch it with their soon to be drivers. It doesn't hurt at all to have them looking and aware NOW before they ever begin driving. Take a moment to check out their site</div>
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<a href="http://www.drivesaferidesafe.com/"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Drive Safe, Ride Safe</span></b></a></div>
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In their <a href="http://www.drivesaferidesafe.com/order/">Order Shop</a> they have many items, this video for twenty dollars (money well spent!) and curriculum for large groups as well. </div>
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Check it out - it's never too early to begin teaching our children safety!</div>
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<i>I want to personally thank Kelly Cusick who sent this to me on a whim after asking my husband questions about what it was like to drive a semi truck (he still thinks that would be a great video) and caring enough to email me so we could have a nice email exchange. She was ever so patient with me as our dvd player broke the week this arrived (you cannot make this stuff up), then we had Christmas and then we simply forgot. It was never my intention to be so long in posting this. </i></div>
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<i><b>Had Kelly not asked if I would blog about this, I would have anyway. I was that impressed, and she was that kind. Thank you.</b></i></div>
<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-27256322600535880762013-02-27T14:40:00.000-05:002013-02-27T14:40:07.366-05:00When You Have A Teenage Brother<br />
When you have a teenage brother, you suddenly have someone else who bosses you around.<br />
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He wants to look at the computer and do boring things like work in his shop and read books.<br />
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He is strong enough to pick you up and pummel you to the ground.<br />
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He controls the tv remote and hoards it at all times. Cartoons are not his idea of good tv.<br />
<br />
But every once in awhile....one has to put him in his place.<br />
<br />
And so, my two youngest cooked up a grand plan.<br />
<br />
While their brother was laying on his bed reading, they opened the window above the kitchen roof and grabbed a handful of snow. <br />
<br />
This snow storm is perfect packing snow.<br />
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Then they quietly creeped into his bedroom where he keeps a sheet over his bed so he has his own 'man cave' and hit him smack dab in the middle of his cheek with a snow ball.<br />
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Then they ran screaming like the dickens down the steps and behind me.<br />
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I probably shouldn't laugh, probably shouldn't post this, but it was too stinking funny not to.<br />
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It was funny when they tossed a snowball at him when he was taking too long in the bathroom too. But then I had to tell them to stop for good and use my mean face.<br />
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Still, I found it hilarious.<br />
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And, maybe, down deep, the teenager is proud of his brothers impressive scheming and delivery.Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-53552394144646193942013-02-27T14:22:00.001-05:002013-02-28T05:55:49.852-05:00PerspectiveYesterday, I had a hilarious day at work and Alicia and I maintained genius status all day long. We fully believe this is due to the fact she brought peanut butter cups to work for us.<br />
<br />
When I arrived home, it sorta all fell apart.<br />
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Our area was bound to get a snow storm - again - but the boys already had a random day off so there was no fear of a snow day that would add to our summertime days in school to make it up. Knowing there was no school the next day had a celebratory feel to the air. I picked up the mail and there was a notice that they were canceling our home owners insurance due to lack of payment.<br />
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Um, what?<br />
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Called immediately, they told me to call the bank, called the bank and their exact words were, "I am so sorry. We dropped the ball on this." We had switched our home loan this summer, our insurance had come due and since we did not have an escrow account, the bank wasn't paying it but we weren't getting a notification of payment either. We did get the cancellation notice.<br />
<br />
So, I'm on the phone with like the fifth person in a row giving them all my information when I get switched to someone new - again. I had begun to go through all my information - again - and none of my words were coming out correctly. Perhaps I was in shock. Cancellation Notice when you haven't been late on a payment sorta does that. S4 was handing me a lego block and pointing to it because he needed my nails (he has claws) to take it apart. I paused. The woman on the other end seemed a bit irritated. "I'm sorry," I blurted out, "I just returned home from work to this notice, my brain has completely shut off for the day and I haven't even had time to make my afternoon cup of coffee yet."<br />
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That. Changed. Everything.<br />
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Even more so when she read my email address. "Life with four boys? Oh my!"<br />
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She was efficient and quick and had me all set up in no time so this never happens again and I don't have to pay the full amount up front - considering I did not know about it - and I nearly hugged her. <br />
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No sooner did I get off the phone with her and bill payment center when my husband, who called and texted me a few times in this time span, called. I rattled off the whole story. He said, "Hey, can you watch the news for me?"<br />
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"I haven't even had time to turn the tv on!"<br />
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"Well, now you can. Oh, and hey, did you find S3's glasses? I read on facebook he lost them."<br />
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It's a good thing he wasn't home. Instead I said, "No, I haven't so much as PEED yet because I have been on the phone for AN HOUR getting our home owners insurance saved!"<br />
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It was then my husband told me that he had the day off of work the next day. I cheered! I had no work, the boys had no school, this was perfection on my rapidly deteriorating evening. Then he told me he would have the whole day to plow snow. <br />
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But he didn't ask for anything else then.<br />
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The boys and I then, after I made a HUGE mug of coffee, cuddled in the living room and watched Brave. When we were done watching it, I looked out the window to a winter wonderland. Seriously, this storm was not messing around.<br />
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I went to get on my computer to check the radar and the computer would not connect. At all. Nothing. I did all those "do this before you call" things and nada.<br />
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So I called our AMAZING <a href="http://mei.net/">internet provider</a>. We spent the next two hours calling each other back and forth and finally just giving up. They ominously said, "I'm afraid we'll have to put a ticket in for this."<br />
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I really need a stack of peanut butter cups in my house to bring awesome to my house whenever I need it.<br />
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This morning, at 8:30 as I was making pancakes and waffles and smokey links, I received a phone call. My honey had been gone since half past midnight plowing. But it wasn't him, it was our internet provider saying he was nearly at our home.<br />
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I greeted him in my pajamas and uncombed hair. I had had just enough time to literally take all my stacks of papers and put them on another table and brush my teeth. I didn't even have a full cup of coffee in me yet.<br />
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It took mere moments for him to go from being confused to looking around to realizing that our internet box had literally fallen off our house due to ice falling on it and the wires had literally burned. In less than half an hour he had us up and running again.<br />
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Much later in the day, when my husband arrived home from plowing just in time for dinner, I made a dramatic sweeping motion with my arm and slight curtsy. "Welcome to your home in daylight!" I declared.<br />
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He wrapped me in a hug and kissed me, telling me he was glad he was home. Asking me if I was glad he had made money today on his day off.<br />
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And I shrug.<br />
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"Remember when we were broke?"<br />
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I nod. I remember it all too well because it wasn't that long ago. I remember emptying any place that I may have any cash at all just to put a little gas in the tank and food on the table. I still feel the icy fingers of fear encircle me from time to time.<br />
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"This is better than broke, isn't it?" he asked me. I nod and smile and am thankful a million times over for my hard working husband.<br />
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It all sort of puts a lot of things in perspective for me.<br />
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It was a bunch of minor things that were making me irritated. Exhausted really. Alicia texted me that morning saying that her electric was out (due to the snow taking out power lines), and here I just had my internet out. And what if our house had burned like my friend with five kiddos whose house just burned and had stopped in to chat yesterday?<br />
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And my husband. Who can complain about such a hard working man as he? A man who loves us all so greatly? Yet sometimes I do.<br />
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Perspective people. We need a new one once in awhile.<br />
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It doesn't change the fact that the boys are insane today and that I will have to bake cookies to bring peace back into our house. Cookies solve everything minor, correct?<br />
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I hope so.Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-68548244599562624942013-02-25T07:34:00.000-05:002013-02-25T07:34:01.116-05:00Being Married to Me...<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">...Must be <b>Awesome</b>.</span></div>
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I mean, really.<br />
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Sunday night, after I made - from scratch - Belgium waffles, my husband pushed his plate away, wiped his face and said, "Hey, can you make me a BLT for work tomorrow? Uh, make that two BLT's."<br />
<br />
Now, there is a might bit of a story behind this. He tells me how to make a sandwich, I somehow mess it up, he tells me what I did wrong, I either cry or say "Make your own dang sandwich yourself!" and storm away from the kitchen.<br />
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See? AWESOME to be married to me! I'm always adding suspense to the mix. It keeps things interesting. I mean, we can NOT have boring.<br />
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Back to the BLT's.<br />
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"Do you trust me?" I ask, arching my eyebrow at him.<br />
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"Yah, just make it with mayonnaise, a little pepper and the bacon, lettuce tomato." He did not catch the arching eyebrow.<br />
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"You want cheese?"<br />
<br />
"No. It's called a B. L. T."<br />
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"Want me to put some avocado on it?" (Because that is really yummy, I might add. Just helping out.)<br />
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"No! It's a BLT. You just need the bacon, the lettuce and the tomato."<br />
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"And mayonnaise."<br />
<br />
"Yes. And a little pepper."<br />
<br />
"But there isn't any M in BLT. You can see where one could be confused."<br />
<br />
"There is no B for bread but you make it with bread anyhow."<br />
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"Technically, there <i>is</i> a B. You could B it to the second for BLT."<br />
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Silence. (That rarely happens, by the way.) Then, "There isn't a letter for toast. And you make it with toast."<br />
<br />
"No. There <i>IS</i> a T. So you could take the T to the second."<br />
<br />
"Well, don't you have all the answers tonight?" He stands up. He knows he has been beat. He goes to get his coat to fetch S1 from church. "So, can you make me two BLT's?"<br />
<br />
"Just bacon, lettuce and tomato?"<br />
<br />
"And mayonnaise with a little pepper," he adds, his voice suddenly sounding very tired.<br />
<br />
"I can try." I smile brightly at him, to reassure him of my great intentions and brilliance and just plain awesomeness.<br />
<br />
He sighed heavily. "Please," he adds, as he walks out the door.<br />
<br />
I waved goodbye to him and then scurried for the computer because, come on, this is a GREAT blog post.<br />
<br />
See? Being married to me is AWESOME.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlNxN6L6QEY5N5M8f5_sceMUcdXbyLDhv7T7UKzmgbJ7T-zuIIddVSSHqfhtVwvc6wBvID5ms6t4nNCtFwd7DbMhMa_ZLZ7uRABv1E3CWaiuLW_YLC6h66MBxlFH8L80btYKucvG4X36Y/s1600/IMG_5317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlNxN6L6QEY5N5M8f5_sceMUcdXbyLDhv7T7UKzmgbJ7T-zuIIddVSSHqfhtVwvc6wBvID5ms6t4nNCtFwd7DbMhMa_ZLZ7uRABv1E3CWaiuLW_YLC6h66MBxlFH8L80btYKucvG4X36Y/s320/IMG_5317.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I must be feeling REALLY awesome to add this silly photo! </div>
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It seemed to fit the post.</div>
<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-28382994452867376062013-02-24T18:00:00.000-05:002013-02-24T18:13:30.123-05:00Card Therapy "So," I asked casually, "You wanna play some cards?"<br />
<br />
My husband is home today after working a million and a half hours in five days (or so it felt) and then plowing snow all weekend. He can never be accused of not being a hard worker.<br />
<br />
The sun was shining, we were home, the boys were watching tv and I didn't feel like cleaning the kitchen so I posed the question to my husband.<br />
<br />
Back before we had cable this was how we spent many a night. We have played innumerable amount of games of cards and they all seem to go the same way. As this one did.<br />
<br />
He shuffled the cards and I cleared a chair of all the snow stuff and back pack and shoes and I don't know how old bag of popcorn so I could sit at the table. I sipped my coffee. I admired the sunshine. I took apart two legos for S4. And finally, my husband decided the cards had been shuffled enough.<br />
<br />
We decided to play Rummy. As the game progressed and he picked up the WHOLE STINKING PILE, I only had only one set down. It included a Joker. He cried the injustice that I would have a Joker. We ended the hand with him at 115, me 60.<br />
<br />
"Let's play one more hand," he said, grinning.<br />
<br />
I swiftly dealt out the cards, giving him time only to swallow one large gulp of coffee. The hand was over nearly as soon as it had begun, I had 75, he had scored minus 25.<br />
<br />
He flung his cards down. "Who's idea was this?" he hollers loudly.<br />
<br />
I shrug and grin as he shuffles the cards. "One more," he says and his eyes take on a determined glint.<br />
<br />
The hand is vicious. I try my best sneak, which is basically just me crying injustice and changing my cards and he hollering, "Did you think I just fell off the turnip truck?" and I come back with, "Well, you were wearing a poncho and sombrero yesterday so maybe you don't know this game yet."<br />
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<br />
<br />
He really was. And so was I. We had a Fiesta dinner at our church last night.<br />
<br />
It's a nail biter. We play card for card. We both get great runs. But in the end, I go out. And the end score is Husband at 225 and me at 255.<br />
<br />
I try not to gloat. I really do.<br />
<br />
He taps his cup on the table. "Hey, this is out of coffee." He stands and hollers for S1 to be ready for him to take him to youth group. "Who's idea was it to play more than one hand?' he mutters to himself as he shrugs on his coat.<br />
<br />
He kisses my cheek as he walks out the door. <br />
<br />
And when he gets home, we'll play cards some more.<br />
<br />
We may sound like we need therapy when we play cards together but I tell you what, nothing makes us laugh more when we are done with the game.<br />
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It's little moments like this that I treasure.<br />
<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-7237063317666206452013-02-21T20:46:00.001-05:002013-02-21T20:46:07.025-05:00What I Learn At Dinner TimeDinner times are always interesting. Even when they are boring dinners, I can usually walk away with something new I've learned about the boys.<div>
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Okay, I guess we don't have boring dinner times.</div>
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Tonight we were talking about mail and mail delivery and S3 asked us what days WE get mail. "Every day. Except Sundays." Jake and I said in unison.</div>
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S2 began to snicker.</div>
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S3 nearly spit out his food - and that is saying something because he literally took half the pan of fried potatoes for himself at dinner tonight. I think he has hit a growth spurt. </div>
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S1, being the eldest and wisest and most knowledgable, felt he should explain. "If you had been S3 and S4, they would be saying 'jinx' to each other. And they have their own jinx saying."</div>
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<br /></div>
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S3 began laughing hysterically, hardly able to speak as he rattled off so quickly I am not even sure if I am typing it correctly..."Jinx, double jinx, triple jinx, rainbow jinx, you can't go pee or talk for the rest of the day until someone says your name five times."</div>
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"What?' Jake asked.</div>
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"It's just something we made up. I learned it at school," S3 explained. "I learned to be real good at jinxing people."</div>
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"Well," Jake said, "I'm glad you are learning something good at school."</div>
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"Yah!" S3 agreed emphatically, happy someone understood the importance of what he has learned, "I mean, otherwise I would have to learn something not important like, like, like multiplication. Yuck! This is better."</div>
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And that's when my husband broke out into song, "There is no good in an evil hearted woman..." and S1 joined in, Word. For. Word.</div>
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The conversation went back to what they thought was important to learn at school versus what they actually have to learn at school. That was interesting...</div>
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Dinner was ending and so I said, "Boys, you all need a shower tonight." They are on mid-winter break and they feel that means a break in bathing, I have noticed.</div>
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Groans all around from all the boys and then my very supportive husband said, "I've heard it said and it's probably true...."</div>
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"Husband!" I warned him, to no avail, as it never is every time he does this. The boys were all snickering. They know the drill.</div>
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<br /></div>
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He continued. "That too much bathing..." he paused and the boys joined in, "It will weaken you."</div>
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I rolled my eyes, as I always do, and the boys all began to laugh. "You don't want us to be weak, Mama!" they declared.</div>
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I gave up. Seriously, when I am going against five of them I have to pick my battles. And they were arguing they bathed two days ago and that should be good enough.</div>
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But after they were done clearing the table (which involves numerous wrestling matches, who knew?) they marched off to the shower to "get weak."</div>
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<i>In case you don't know why they would begin singing <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=woEYm8cPbWw">"There is no good in an evil hearted woman"</a>, here is the song....or you can just ask my boys to sing it word for word. Not anything they learned in school but feel they should have.</i></div>
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Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-79463466314812386562013-02-15T07:30:00.000-05:002013-02-15T07:30:05.118-05:00The Perfect ThingIt was snowing.<br />
<br />
Again.<br />
<br />
The wind was howling. I was exhausted. Leaving work, I stopped to drop something off at a friends home and took off down the dirt roads to head for home.<br />
<br />
What I didn't expect were drifts that came half way up my suburban door. That I would be gripping the steering wheel trying to drive fast enough to get through the drifted snow without crashing into a tree.<br />
<br />
I rarely am really scared driving. This was one time I was.<br />
<br />
The boys were fighting in the back. S3 had rested his arm next to S4's head and S4 was crying the injustice while S3 claimed he wasn't doing anything. S2 didn't want anyone to touch him. S1 was singing with the radio.<br />
<br />
I have never been so happy to get home.<br />
<br />
I literally pulled my hood up on my coat to get the mail, it was so windy. I caught glimpse of a card addressed to me. When we got into the house, I dropped the mail on the table. The boys demanded my attention. My husband was calling me to get road conditions. I was attempting to pull together a meal to feed everyone.<br />
<br />
I wanted to crawl into bed and sleep until spring with no one disturbing me.<br />
<br />
I plopped down in a chair at the table and suddenly remembered I had a card.<br />
<br />
Intrigued, I slit opened the envelope to find myself laughing hysterically at a birthday card. Is it my birthday? No. And the person who sent me this card knew that well enough, she also knew the card was too perfect not to send to me.<br />
<br />
It was perfect timing. It brought a smile to my heart and for a moment I was transported to the beach with her laughing over the card.<br />
<br />
Perfectly. Timed.<br />
<br />
Never underestimate the power of kindness. Or a simply good laugh.<br />
<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-73115389390729049072013-02-13T16:52:00.001-05:002013-02-14T19:06:08.503-05:00We Are Eating Road Kill for DinnerGroan.<br />
<br />
I am actually writing this.<br />
<br />
The only reason I am even sharing this story is because tomorrow the boys are going to school and sharing it with everyone so I might as well do damage control now.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Yes, tonight we are having road kill for dinner.</b></span></div>
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<i>This was on the Today show a year or so ago and it made me laugh. Didn't think it would come true.</i></div>
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Here is how it happened.</div>
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S1 and I were returning home from a run to the little town next to us for feed and a few groceries. As we were pulling into the driveway, I commented on the squirrel that had been hit and was now dead in the road by our mailbox.</div>
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S1 has been wanting another squirrel tail and I told him — <i>can you believe I said such a thing?</i> - "It's fresh so go grab it."</div>
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So I am in the house cooking the chili I plan on having for dinner when S1 comes to the door, big limp squirrel in hand.</div>
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"Mama, I know this sounds really redneck and I know it would be a blog post and all that, but, well, this squirrel is really fresh. Like still warm. And it only got hit in the head here. It's a big one and it sure would be good for dinner. I know it would be road kill," he shrugs, "but it's good road kill."</div>
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So what did I do?</div>
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I got out the crock pot.</div>
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When his brothers arrived home from school, the thought we were joking when we said road kill was for dinner. And when they finally believed us, they went whooping and hollering through the house. </div>
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They are truly ecstatic.</div>
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I, for one, was not going to share this story with the world. But looking at these four boys drooling over the cooking squirrel in the crock pot, I figure I had better get it out there now.</div>
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I am literally hanging my head in my hands not believing I will be publishing "publish".</div>
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Also, I will be having chili for dinner. Made from store bought meat. </div>
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<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184165921746089096.post-21118056847013107832013-02-02T07:43:00.000-05:002013-02-02T07:43:00.546-05:00Groundhog Day Blizzard<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Two years ago we were bombarded with snow.</div>
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My husband, working road construction in the summer and plowing in the winter, had been gone for HOURS (I think it was close to a full 24 hours, but I cannot remember exactly) with this blizzard (it was really deemed a blizzard) and when he returned home, this happened.....</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/GP1AknHvgGg?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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My husband watches the video over and over again.</div>
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It's the little things, sometimes, that make the biggest impression on your heart.</div>
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Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11314236425273380318noreply@blogger.com2