A Day Of Lists

Today is the day before we leave on vacation.

Today is the day I have several lists of things to do, to pack, to buy, to remember.

Now...if I could only remember where I put those lists, I'd be ready for my day!

Well, I need more coffee to be ready for my day. On yesterday's grocery list I forgot to write "buy more coffee since there is none left in the house."

I'm not sure my list system is working so well this year...

It doesn't matter. Tomorrow we leave and if we've forgotten anything, well, that's what Walmarts are for!

It's Not So Much About The Toast

As it is about the butter.

I love butter.

When I was a kid, we only had margarine. It has a completely different taste from butter. I thought I hated butter because it was so unlike what I was used to.

I also thought I hated home made bread and potato salad, but that's kids for you. Kind of weird.

Last night for snack, I had bread and butter and jam. This morning for breakfast, same thing.

Times three.

Only two of those slices of sourdough were toasted. And only one had jam on it.

I just love butter. I have the disgusting habit of frosting my bread or roll or muffin or biscuit with butter. It doesn't have to be warm, although I do love that yellow gold melting into all the nooks of a slice of bread, it just has to be the real deal.

In my food eating, I have cut back on pop, on sweet treats, on salty snacks, but I have never been able to cut out butter.

I'm all about loving life, and for me, that will include copious amounts of butter on my bread!

Rock on Butter!

I May Have Just Eaten Raw Cookie Dough For Breakfast

I may have. It was an accident!

I had to make cookies that have to be at church this morning before 11. I want them to be cool enough to pack, so after sleeping in and exercising, I decided to bake before I ate a bowl of cereal.

I had to taste the chocolate chips. Several times. Once, because the bag was open and they needed a quality check. Twice, because the bag was a brand I don't usually buy and they needed a taste check.

Then I start dropping dough by spoonfuls, carefully scrapping the dough off the spoon with my finger. After a tray was scooped, I have to lick my fingers. Then I have to have a spoonful of dough. It's that darn yummy.

All thoughts of raw eggs and salmonella are gone from my head and I ate a second spoonful.

Then I washed my hands, and started a second tray of cookies. Thus, more finger licking and another spoonful.

I washed my hands again and poured myself a cup of coffee. I looked up at the cereal boxes and thought, I am too full.

I may have just had my breakfast. I had no idea I was one of those people!

My Son's Old Shoes

My son has worn these shoes into the ground. Or the garbage if you ask anyone who sees them.

And yet, he continues to wear them! They are barely holding together, with huge holes and worn out spots and broken laces. He has a brand new pair waiting on the sidelines, the exact same kind, still in their box, but he likes his old ones.

People have advised me to sneak into his room at night and get rid of them. I'm the mom, so I should just say put those awful things in the trash and be done with it.

The thing is, though, I am his Mom and he has his reasons for wanting to wear those crazy old shoes and I'm going to respect that. I've gotten so used to them, I don't even notice anymore.

In the grand scheme of parenthood, I decided a long time ago that fighting with the kids over what they wanted to wear was silly and pointless. Are they good kids? Yes, absolutely. Do they have a sense of style unique to them? That they do. If we were going to a wedding would he put on the new shoes? I'm 99% positive he would.

It's no big deal. I kind of like that he's doing his own thing.

Besides, he's super cool. I can support his super coolness!

Jam Making 101

When my Mom suggested that we get together for some jam making, I was hesitant. Making jam seems like a really hard, complicated business. Not to mention hot and sticky....

But she picked me up and we went out to my Grandma's house to make jam.

I started mashing strawberries, and it was sticky business. Meanwhile, water was boiling and steam was filling the kitchen and it was hot.

It turns out, though, it's not so complicated and the feeling of pride and excitement I felt as I watched the hot jars fill with red liquid is indescribable. When I heard my jars ping, I was beyond excited!

I left Grandma's house so happy, so glad my Mom said let's make jam. Standing in Grandma's kitchen, listening to her and Mom talk about so many different things, watching them work together....I will treasure that memory always.

That night my jam was still liquid, and we did have quite a bit of vanilla ice cream leftover from a party......

The first jar never stood a chance!

I Would So Like To Be A Vegetarian....

Except for the crucial problem of not liking vegetables.

Sure, I like some. Corn, beans, peas, broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, spinach, asparagus , lettuce....

But can I live on that alone? Nope.

I would have to add grains and legumes and I just don't hate meat enough to make the switch to things I dislike.

I always think I'll do it and get used to the new, gross vegetarian foods, though, when I'm touching raw chicken to make dinner. The first time I was cooking a whole chicken for dinner, I was rinsing the raw bird off in the sink and thought this feels a lot like my newborn son.

And that made cooking whole chicken a whole lot not going to happen.

I have a veggie garden bursting with glorious green things (my zucchini plants are looking like they are ready to over throw the lettuce regime and conquer the whole garden) and I have just finished looking through a northwest vegetarian cookbook....

I've just got to face facts. I am never going to buy kale and use it. I hate tomatoes unless they are going into ketchup. Onions need to be cooked so soft I don't recognize them as onions. And no matter how lovely the picture looks, I am never going to make things like "Roasted Chile, Squash, and Potato Tacos with Goat Cheese".

It's just not going to happen.

Tis The Season For Cherries

Cherries are my all time favorite summer fruit.

And I love Rainer cherries most of all.

The season for Rainers is so short! And they tend to be expensive.

This year, I decided life is too short itself to worry about whether I should spend $5 on a pound of cherries or wait until they go on sale.

The answer is YES. Yes I should buy my favorite cherries any chance I can.

I've gotta tell you, that has been the best decision I've made.

When we didn't have too much sunshine, I still could munch on some cherries and know without a doubt that it is summer.

I just bought 2 pounds of Rainers from my daughters fundraiser sale. I stood in the kitchen munching and thought, well, there are much worse things I could be spending my money on and eating as I stand over the sink.

But right now, I can't think of anything that is more delicious than these cherries!

Looking For A Few Good Towels

I remember 17 years ago (gasp!) when we were getting wedding gifts, I had so many bath towels I did not know what to do with them. So many, in fact, that some were regulated to dog care even though they were brand new.

I still have some of those towels, but as I was looking at my empty towel shelf wondering if it was just me behind on laundry or do I really not have any towels at all, I felt nostalgic for that glorious time of too many towels.

I had no idea, all those years ago, that towels would not be as plentiful in the future. I mean, come on! There are stores devoted to beds, baths, and beyonds! I can go into a store at any time to purchase new, fluffy towels. And yet, I don't do it.

Turns out, towels are one of those weird things that I don't buy for myself. The ones we have are serviceable, and if it's a mad scramble to get one of the new ones I got for my birthday last year, well, tough to the rest of the family. Since I fold the laundry, I always take a new one for myself.

I still remember the blue and pink ones I gave to the dog.

I wish I had those back. I wouldn't be so determined to have certain colors in my bathroom now. Any towel would do right now, just so I don't have to get up and do laundry first thing this morning!

Why Our Parade Rocks The Socks Off Your Parade

An Essay In Pictures

The Back Roads Of My Home Town

After I dropped my son off at a local park for his cross country summer practice, I was struck by the beauty of my surroundings. This is my town. These back roads, the twists and turns, the (I'm sorry daughter of mine) nooks and crannies, the dips and bumps, all are very familiar to me.

It amazes me what I can see on the ten minute drive back into town.

An old man, cigarette dangling from his mouth, tossing hay to his cows.

A Christmas tree farm waiting for it's season, but not at all out of place in these green woods.

Cinder block buildings with no trespassing signs.

Lush valleys, overgrown fields, manicured lawns separated by split rail, chain link, barbed wire.

Logging trucks barely fitting in their lane, shaking a car as they pass by.

Big houses, little houses, mobile homes and one A-frame cottage on the banks of the river.

Cows, horses, some sheep and goats, a dog running down the road making his way home.

The speed limit is posted at 35, but we all know the road calls for a faster speed. Today though, I kept it at 35.

It had nothing whatsoever to do with the putz following too close to me, desperate for me to go faster.

I was just enjoying the road as a law abiding, home town loving, citizen.