Moms are NEVER wrong...much!

A bit of trivial parenting advice, unsolicited though it may be:
KNOW YOUR MOVIE CHARACTERS!

The kids and I were talking about the hit Disney movie CARS yesterday. Now sure, I thought it was a pretty cute flick (though it couldn't light a candle to Strongest Man in the World or Mary Poppins). So, the only character that stuck in my mind was Tow-mater ('cause he was sportin' some choppers that cracked me up).


So we're chatting about the main character and pointing out others on a Disney writing board. My 9yo dd excitedly said, "There's Lightning McQueen," as she ran her finger over the main character's image.

"No, that's not Lightning McQueen, honey. Lightning McQueen was the older, wiser car who had been around the track a few times." No pun intended.

"Uh uh, Mom. That's Lightning McQueen."
"No, sweetie. It's not." I was fully confident, because, as we all know, Lightning McQueen was played by Steve McQueen, famous veteran actor.

At this point, my dd was completely frustrated with me. "Mom! That is TOO Lightning McQueen. Uh huh, is too. Yes, it IS! Uh huuuuuuuuuh!"

"Nope, not him."

A distraction came up that abruptly ended our conversation, but she later reiterated that I was wrong and she was right. I let it go, "knowing" she was just being hard headed.
End of story.

Until this morning.

7 year old ds, who took no part in the debate yesterday (other than to bob his head back and forth between dd and I like a spectator at a tennis match) chimed in. As I neared the top of our steps, he literally sprang from his bedroom door just left of the the upstairs landing, posed like Tom Cruise in Risky Business. He quickly pointed to the CARS image on the back of his underwear and said, "Read that! What does it say?" Before I could strain my eyes to read the small print, he continued. "It says (pause for added drama from him)
LIGHTNING!
MCQUEEN!"

And with that, he began a very lighthearted giggle, stating, "Hahahaha! You said it wasn't Lightning McQueen, Mommy. But it was. Sissy was right and you were wrong. Hahahaha!"

As of this writing, I'm contemplating grabbing a permanent marker and "altering" the back end of that underwear to read something else.

Mr. Smarty Pants!

Grrrr! And I didn't even try to cash in the "Mother is always right" card. And okay, so Steve McQueen died in 1980 and it was actually Paul Newman who played in CARS (well, at least I think it was Paul Newman, what with my confidence shaken by a 7 yo in his Disney underwear and all). And anyway, what do you expect from a gal who once worked in a record store and asked her co-worker where to file the "Bob DIE-lan" albums.

Toni

Pickin' a bone with Santa

So Kris (can I call you Kris?),
I sent you my list early this year.

I did.

And even as I feverishly penned it out on paper, I knew you'd be tumbling out of your La-Z-Boy in astonishment when you got it, what with my record of late Christmas lists and all (and truth be told, late card mailings too).

But I didn't procrastinate this year. I was on top of it and that means I shouldn't have gotten any lumps of coal. And yet, I sit here tonight and imagine you, sipping your high falutin' wassail as you dangle a few of those smelly black nuggets over my list, taunting, "Ah, Toni. Lessee, one lump or two?" I don't think I need to remind you that you decided on two. So let's review, big guy, 'cause I'm not too jolly at the moment.

WHAT TONI WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS
-healthy family
-happy children
-Christ at the center of it all

See Santa, that wasn't so hard. Well,..actually,...it is hard for many folks.
Sometimes loved ones are sick.
Sometimes children don't have their basic needs met.
And sometimes, okay OFTEN, Christ isn't at the center of it all, at all.
Because that requires one to truly open his/her heart and ask Christ to dwell within. Instead of allowing themselves to be putty in the Master's hand, instead of allowing Him to change them, some folks work hard at trying to change an unchangeable God.

All in all, I'm blessed. My list is fullfilled and for that I am grateful.
So that brings me to the reason for this letter. Kris, big guy, what's with working the "WHAT TONI DOESN'T WANT FOR CHRISTMAS" list? I didn't send it to you, just so you know, but you seem to be working it all the same. So just in case the wassail is fogging your beard........
#1 I did NOT want a 6 week virus (for each member of my family, no less) back in 2003. I didn't want Bronchitis that year either, nor did I want our 1 year old van "detailed" by a guard rail when we slid into it on an icy road (they picked it up on a flatbed truck the next day, remember?) And I can't believe I even have to tell you this (hellooOOo, get a clue, big guy), but I most certainly did NOT want the side of my husband's truck keyed for fun while I was in Kmart shopping for gifts (with a 6-week virus on board, I might add). Nope, didn't want any of that. Why'dja bring it, Santa?
#2 I did NOT ask for a job relocation for dh in late 2004. I didn't ask that all the flights be full at Christmas either, because you don't honestly think I preferred that he drive home, 5½ hours, in blizzard conditions after working 16 hours, do you? At least you saw to it that I got out on the last flight from Cleveland to Chicago that day before the Cleveland airport closed due to weather. And at least we got out of Chicago that day before the roads got treacherous (even if we drove the last 2 hours in VERY treacherous conditions on the turnpike).
#3 I didn't ask you to arrange for my children to lose the familiar comfort of their home and family right at the holidays in 2005. On the other hand, I *did* appreciate being reunited in Indy as a family. Still, it was a BIG change right at the holidays. Couldn't you have arranged for that gift to be delivered on, say, President's Day? I'm just sayin'.
#4 I didn't ask for a baby in 2006. Now this could DEFINITELY be on my want list. But Santa, I just didn't know I wanted it. You did though. CLEARLY, you did. Because we were literally out Christmas shopping that mid-December when our cell phone rang. CPS back in Ohio, where we had served as foster parents for 5 years. That one phone call resulted in an immediate 6-hour drive to Ohio and our beautiful fourth child. Okay, Santa. On this, I'll say I'm glad you were working this OTHER list because Brandon is the BEST surprise present we have EVER received.
#5 I did NOT NOT NOT ask for a new heat pump during the holiday season of 2007. 4 grand says I'm sitting on a beach in Maui, not admiring the new metal box on the side of my house. But hey, it was definitely practical. Nothing says MERRY CHRISTMAS like a new (and pricey) heat pump.
#6 Which leads me to this year.
Santa, are you kidding me?
New parts for a garage door opener and frame?
Six what? Dollars??? Hundred dollars? Did you say six HUNDRED dollars? Well then, a very politically correct Happy Holidays to you, big guy. 'Cause you know what? I reeeeally didn't want garage door parts this year. I mean, seriously. You blew it, big guy. You blew it and so I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you the dog house.
*************

In all seriousness now, things do seem to get bumpy for me around this time of year.
So is there a "glass half full" in the midst of it?
Absolutely!
Look, it's like this. Challenges just seem to pop up right about Christmas time. I've asked myself why and I believe there is purpose.
He wants my whole heart.
He wants my eyes on Him.
He doesn't want the superficial.
He doesn't want me to forget.
And so the real challenge is NOT in the craziness that has occurred during the holiday season. Rather, the challenge lies in answering Him when He grabs my attention and asks, "Am I enough?"

Yes, Lord, you are enough.
Emmanuel, God with us.
You have my attention, Lord. All of it. Again!

HAVE A MERRY AND BLESSED CHRISTMAS, DEAR FRIENDS!

Toni

A measure of BEAUTIFUL

"Mom, there's something in here that's soooo beautiful. Listen!
After he had thought about it, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph, son of David, don't be afraid to take Mary as your wife, because what has been conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit."
(Matthew 1:20)

This is what Reece was so excited to share with me today. The kids are scheduled for silent reading time and I allow them to read from the book of their choice. I keep a large pile of library books handy, the content being aligned with our current history and science topics. But sometimes Reece prefers to read from one of his two most favorite books, his marble book or his pocket bible.

I love that his heart is tender and that there is a desire in him to read God's word without being required to do so. And I couldn't agree more. The message to Joseph from the angel was beautiful. But truly, I took equal joy in knowing that my 7 year old son was so excited to share with me from God's word today.

Toni

LIVE CHRISTMAS TREE (the saga)

We ventured out today to fulfill our annual tradition of finding a live Christmas tree. We had intended to go yesterday after church, but it was only about 20º outside and I'm quite the whiner when it comes to bitter cold. So we opted to go today.

Now the one concern I had (besides whining over the bitter cold) was that the place we usually go might not be open during the week. No problem. I'll just take a little look-see on the Internet and, oh lookee here, they're open daily. We're on our way.

So, we drive a good 30 minutes or more to the little (eensy) town of Lizton. Spotting the familiar country church nestled in the intersection of a rural country road, we made a left and drove the short half mile to the tree farm. The kids shifted nervously with excitement.

"Will the Christmas shop be open, Mommy?"
"Can we take a candy cane from the tree again this year?"
"Can we watch them put our tree through the shaker machine?"
"Will Daddy let us get some hot chocolate to share?"

It was so nice to hear them bringing their favorite memories to life in anticipation of our stop there. That is, until we saw the CLOSED sign in the window of the little Christmas cabin.

WILL RETURN AT 9 O'CLOCK.

Um,...hmmm. Okay then, sooooo would that be 9 o'clock, as in today? See, 'cause I'm thinking it's 2 o'clock now and uh, I doubt they're suggesting we hunt for a tree in the dark of night (then again, the sheep farmers back in Ohio let us do that one year. They just cautioned us to be sure it was a branch we were cutting in the pitch black "so's you don't lose a digit out there.")

The kids were immediately disappointed. I was ready to knock on doors. But thankfully, I had noticed another sign at the top of the highway exit ramp.

HOBBLES TREE FARM. This-a-way.

Okay sure, so it didn't say this-a-way, but it might as well have, what with the this-a-ways and that-a-ways we had to go to find the Hobbits,...er,...HOBBLES.

We followed umpteen signs or more, farther and farther out into the middle of nowhere. By the time we reached the driveway of Hobbles tree farm, I was thinking we might have fallen for a trap. You know. Unknowing family makes wrong turn in unfamiliar territory and is never heard from again. That kind of trap.
Put it to rest already, Toni. Your kids need a tree.

So we found the location, which was marked by a most confusing sign. O sure, it read HOBBLES TREE FARM. But,..what's with superimposing the words on the image of a pink pig????? I mean, is it a tree farm or a soo-ey farm?
Boggled the mind.

So, we drove up the ooooh so long driveway (it's always a long hallway or staircase in those scary flicks, isn't it?). Sure enough, the "OPEN" sign blazed brightly (okay, so it was just a vinyl placard, but don't the neon signs of the motels always blaze with "VACANCY" in those movies? It's all creeping me out at this point.)

So Carl knocks on the door and gets the scoop.
One price fits all. Interesting.
He grabs a saw (I see another and consider bringing that one too "just in case.") Away we go.

Up one row.
Down another.
Up one row.
Down another.
Repeat 40 times.

These trees were of the Charlie Brown variety, I tell you. I even joked that we should take home the red one (a dead tree whose needles looked nearly red in color.) We must have covered 5 acres or more in the snow and cold, four kids in tow (and having to carry Brandon for the majority of the time, which did NOT thrill him in the least.)


We were about to give up and take home a "disadvantaged" tree, when I suddenly spotted one that was at least borderline acceptable. Never mind the 4 bug nests in it. Minor concern at this point and Carl could pluck them off (because you don't really think that I would, do ya?) And after a bit of amateur surveying and debating, we concluded that, no, it was NOT a tree from the HOBBLES' personal backyard stash (of course, we didn't have any actual surveyor tools to go by, but we eyeballed 'er pretty good before taking a saw to it.)



She's sitting pretty in our family room tonight, lights all aglow. There aren't any ornaments on yet, because we had to go through our annual sparring bickering grounds for divorce "debate" over how the lights should go. Let me safely tell you how they should NOT go. They should NOT be strung furniture polish style.
You know,...wax on, wax off.
Lights on, lights off.
I'd say we strung her a good three times or more before finally agreeing that no matter how many times we called a do-over, it just wasn't going to happen. Because you can't squeeze a Great Dane in a carry-on bag, and you can't string an 8 foot tree with two strands of lights no matter how many times you wrap her. So,... someone was clearly heading to the local dollar store for more lights. And let me remind you that "someone" hates winter and whines when she's cold. I was in no mood.

So I'm driving along, griping myself all the way to Walgreens.

Yep, I (moi) had to buy more lights in anticipation of more holiday sparring merriment. Which means that I (moi) ventured out into the cold, whiner that I am. In fairness to uh hem, the other light stringer, I'll add that it was my choice. I really kind of needed the shock of the cold to my overloaded nervous system at that point. All together now, JOY TO THE WORLD! Seriously though, I'm happy to report that the lights are now twinkling brightly on our "almost brought home a Charlie Brown tree but didn't, though it could be a tree out of their backyard" Christmas tree.
It's all good.

And now for a few outtakes.
1. We passed on visiting one farm called Devil's 40 Tree Farm. What the heck???
2. Hackman's didn't sound all that appealing either.
3. We also passed on the tree farm that proudly advertised their "Charlie Brown bargain bin." Yes, dead serious.

FINAL NOTE:
This video cracked me up. It's a bit long, but made me laugh as I reflected what might be the worst gift I ever received. Fortunately, no major flops came to mind. How about you?
http://creativity-online.com/work/view?seed=5e32d548

Toni

A delightful Christmas treat!

The combination of tart and sweet is wonderful. Plus, they POP in your mouth when you bite into them. And they make a gorgeous presentation.

One important note: These do NOT taste like the final treat when they are first sugar coated, so DON'T sample them until they have been coated in the sugar and sat for an hour or more. Enjoy!

Ingredients
2 cups granulated sugar
2 cups water
2 cups fresh cranberries
3/4 cup superfine sugar
Preparation

Combine granulated sugar and water in a small saucepan over low heat, stirring mixture until sugar dissolves. Bring to a simmer; remove from heat. (Do not boil or the cranberries may pop when added.) Stir in cranberries; pour mixture into a bowl. Cover and refrigerate 8 hours or overnight.

Drain cranberries in a colander over a bowl, reserving steeping liquid, if desired. Place superfine sugar in a shallow dish. Add the cranberries, rolling to coat with sugar. Spread sugared cranberries in a single layer on a baking sheet; let stand at room temperature 1 hour or until dry.

Note: The steeping liquid clings to the berries and helps the sugar adhere. Store in an airtight container in a cool place for up to a week.

Toni

The letdown

When we lived in Ohio, it was tradition to take the kids downtown Cleveland at Christmas time. We parked at the airport and hopped on the RTA (rapid train), which took us straight into Tower City mall. This mall is located inside the Terminal Tower, which was once the tallest building in Cleveland. The Rapid trains run under and through this building.


Riding the Rapid was always a big treat for our children. They loved watching the landscape go from almost burbs to urban life.
The many industrial buildings.
Impressive old apartments.
Rows of narrow homes on equally narrow lots (Think A Christmas Story, which was filmed there, btw.)
Graffiti (which is an artform of sorts.)
Bridges over the Cuyahoga River.
And of course, the city itself.

From the mall, we enjoyed walking out onto the square to see the festive light display (In fact, Carl and I went to the lighting one year, but that was a lesson in the property of density which I do not care to repeat. Thousands of people crammed against thousands of people, all shoving one another vying for a spot in which to take in the big flip of the switch. Just what were we thinking?) Even so, the lights were spectacular.

(That's the Terminal Tower illuminated in red.)

The decorations inside Tower City were equally delightful. Colorful and decorative air balloons extended above the three-story mall. Carolers in Victorian era costumes interacting with and performing for the public. Oh, and the talking Christmas tree.

(the oval is a decorative fountain whose water jets "perform" in perfect time with lights and music.)

And then there was the very cool toy soldier. He was "wound up" (had a huge key on his back) and came to life several times each day. And he would present some of the children with a paper ornament signed by him. Olivia giggled shyly when she was once selected for the honor.


(You can see a much better photo of him here.)

And perhaps one of the most magical experiences of this annual family outing was the Twigbee shop, where children ages 12 and under got to enter through a child-sized doorway into a tiny world of gifts for $10 and under, Olivia's chance to do some "grown up" shopping for her Nana and Papa. How she loved to do that.

Our trip always concluded with a stop at the bulk candy store, where the kids got to select a few of their favorites for the ride home. Ah, lovely journey down memory lane.

So...

Imagine our expectations as we ventured into downtown Indy this past week. Their "Tower City" is known as Circle Center mall. We just knew we were in for a treat. After all, Indianapolis is a really nice American city. It's quite clean. Easy to get around. And our Children's Museum is perhaps the best in the country. During Christmas, a giant slide form is placed over the wide curved staircase at the Children's Museum and kids (and parents too!) can ride down on a burlap sack. How cool is that? So we were sure our visit to Circle Center was going to be something special.



I mentioned A Christmas Story. Uh, did you see it? If so, remember the scene where Ralphie is holed up in the bathroom, breaking a sweat as he uses his Ovaltine decoder ring to reveal the secret message?

REMEMBER TO DRINK YOUR OVALTINE.

"A crummy commercial?" That was his disappointed response. Yeah, well, life does sometimes imitate art. And such was the case with our holiday venture downtown.
An absolute bust! It was a big hunk of ghouda, I tell you. Oh sure, there were some Victorian looking banners and giant ornaments suspended from the ceiling. But they were quite neutral and didn't really remind us all that much of Christmas.

Now don't get me wrong. It's not about the hyped up commercial "stuff." I totally know that. I don't need it and it wouldn't bother one little iota me if the whole world toned down the commercial aspects of Christmas. But people, it was a mall for crying out loud. The heartbeat of commercialism. So we expected it to be all tricked out with holiday garb. Nope! And that is an understatement. We struggled just to find a place that could serve as a holiday photo op. We had to duck inside a department store just to find some decorated trees. Sheesh!

Now, here's the neat thing though. In spite of our expectations being shot down like a duck's behind in huckleberry season, there was one BEAUTIFUL sight to behold. In the very center of the city, on THE circle that folks drive in at night to see (due to the "tree" made out of strings of lights. That's right, not a REAL tree but a string of lights tree)...what can be found?



THE NATIVITY! A fairly large nativity at that. It just so happens that a CHURCH sits right on the circle and thus they have opportunity to freely display a very large nativity in the most prominent spot in downtown Indianapolis. And it stands out tremendously due to the understated decorating all around it. How beautiful is that? I knoOow!

Toni

Bunker Time!

It's been quite awhile since I've shared a Bunkerism or two. May I?

Last year, we studied Betelgeuse, a very bright star that can be found in the constellation Orion the Hunter. The pronunciation of this star sounds very much like "Beetlejuice" and thus I taught it as such. Tonight, our family was walking together when Carl inquired as to what the bright object was in the night sky (Venus), when Olivia piped up and enlightened him.
"That's Bug juice, Dad."

And my girls just cannot get this Thanksgiving thing down. I lost count of how many times I've reminded them that we're eating turkey, not chicken.

And as we watched The Polar Express together this evening, Liv found the reindeer to be beautiful (her words). As they took to flight she inquired, "Mom, is that one Connor?"
"Connor? One of Santa's reindeer is named Connor? (sigh) Let's sing it again (for like the umpteenth thousandth time). "You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen. Comet and Cupid and DONNER and Blitzen. Donner. It's Donner, honey."
(giggles like the 9 year old girl that she is). "Oh! Hahahahaha!"

Toni

Thanksgiving Day!

It has been a beautiful Thanksgiving Day.
Truly beautiful.
The kind of day where you breath in and it feels rich and expansive and satisfying. The kind of day where you breath out and it's light and peaceful and you're totally in the moment, fully alive and fully aware.
It's been that kind of day for me.
A beautiful Thanksgiving Day.

We didn't get to travel home to Ohio to be with family. But I know they were together and that blessed me.

And we didn't have company over, nor visit dear friends. But Carl didn't have to work, so he, Olivia and I prepared Mom's famous homemade stuffing together and laughed (and gagged) as we stuffed the bird.


We felt perfectly content to park ourselves lazily in front of the television for three whole hours as we took in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.


The kids laughed and played (okay, and sparred) together as they waited for the early dinner to come.

And I almost literally drank in the blessing of lots and lots of sunshine streaming in through our windows (we have four windows across the south wall of our family room so we get wonderful light through them.) The near-winter weather was perfect, reaching mid 40's, with nothing more than an occasional light breeze.

Just before 4 o'clock, we gathered around a near perfect meal (if I do say so myself) and that also richly blessed me.
My husband was home.
My children are healthy.
I brought out the special occasion holiday linens and china.
We ate "fancy" in the family room amid the glow of candlelight.
Turkey.
Stuffing.
Gravy.
Mashed potatoes.
Sweet potatoes.
Green beans.
Corn.
Cranberry sauce.
Black olives.
Soy nog and soy pumpkin nog.
Homemade pumpkin pie and whipped cream.
Coffee.
Oh, and the turkey turned out moist and golden brown and oh-so-delish.


I was also blessed by a husband that followed closely behind me all day. Now, you might think, "He would be in the way," but I didn't think that at all, as he busied himself blessing my socks off by cleaning all dishes, pots, pans and utensils as I used them. How wonderful it was to be able to clean my entire post-dinner mess in about 20 minutes, thanks to his thoughtful help.

And because he did that, we had time to take a perfect walk to let our stomachs settle. The sun was setting and, oh how I wish you could have seen my view of the sky in that moment. Carl took the kids walking through the remnants of high summer grasses (they love to do that) while I just stood there on the trail, taking in the most breathtaking sunset sky. It appeared as thousands of pillows of peachy pink against a soft blanket of baby blue. Along the edge of those clouds was the most gorgeous shade of pale golden yellow. And beyond that, violet. The black silouettes of barren trees against that display of color was the crown on my day. I could have stood there forever, but it faded in what seemed an instant. How truly blessed I am for having captured that light in my mind's eye for always.

I tend to be fully aware of the "always" moments, aware that very specific events or moments in time will be with me for all my days. Standing there, beholding God's creation and feeling Him present in that very moment, will be with me always. As I recall the Thanksgivings of the past, this memory will come. Just as the memory of flying home on the red-eye from California, the night before Thanksgiving day, to be with my family, seated next to one of my dearest friends as we chatted the night away, will always be with me.

It has truly been a beautiful Thanksgiving day.
Here's hoping that you have captured some special moment in your memory bank for years to come as well.
Happy Thanksgiving, all!

Toni

CLUELESS

Back in the 80's, there was a popular catch phrase that was used when a stated point soared over the head of some unknowing individual.

"Get a clue."

Yeah, well we're nothing if not retro-80's around here, so let me give you a little glimpse of Lifestyles of the Rich and Clueless (uh hem, that rich part might be just a tad unrealistic, though we are rich in blessings and that's all that matters to me.)

My mom recently sent Reece's birthday package through the mail from Ohio. I opened the main box, as it had been securely sealed with packing tape. Examining the contents, I remarked to Carl, "Goodness! Instead of just using some crumpled newspapers, Mom threw an entire unrolled roll of toilet paper in here. She should have least unrolled it."

I began handing out the contents to Reece when I encountered another perplexing find.
A bag of carrots (you're scratchin' your head too, uh huh.)
A ziplocked bag of baby carrots to be exact.
Mailed from another state in a little boy's birthday package.
Suddenly aware that I was holding a tense expression as I pondered this strange item, I unwrinkled my brow (to the extent that a 40-something woman can) and mused, "Would she really send him a bag of carrots for his birthday?" I mean, I just wasn't sure.

Carl, who was busy unloading the dishwasher, listened intently as I presented the perplexing items to him for consideration.
"Honey, I think my mom's lost it. I mean, I kinda got that the toilet paper was to double as packing paper, even if she didn't unroll it. But, uh,...a ziplock bag of carrots? What the heck? I think she was having a snack and just threw them in like when I set your morning coffee up and forgot to put the grinds in."

He looked up at me with that all too familiar look. The concerned one that says, "There she goes again," as he formed his response.
"You...don't have a clue, do you?"
"Me? What...she's the one who packed the carrots."

And sadly, it's true. Hubs was right. I didn't have a clue and the joke went right over my head. See, my dad and I, we have these little compulsions. For Dad, it's carrots. Go to my parents house on any given day and you can munch your way through all the vitamin A your eyes, skin and hair can handle. Because in their refrigerator, Carrot is King. Dad buys them by the 2 pound bag, several at a time. I keep waiting for Dad to have that carotene "tan" like Jay the Juiceman, but so far he's still the same shade of Dad I've always loved.
And, oh yes, he does love his carrots.
No, they don't need multiple 2 pound bags.
Yes, the rabbits in his neighborhood must be very happy.

As for me...
If you're a guest in our home, don't you eeeever worry about the empty toilet paper holder scenario. It doesn't exist here. People, honestly, this is so not an issue in our home. See, when my parents visited us recently, dh thought my mom needed to take a little tour of the storage ares of our home. No, this is NOT the usual tour you give to guests who come to visit. But when you get a kick out of your wife's wall-o-paper, you naturally want to share your joy.
And so he did.
He showed my mom our stockpile of 10 or more 4-packs of t.p. in the bedroom.
And our 6 or more 4-packs in the kids' bathroom.
And our additional 4 or more 4-packs in the pantry.
And this didn't include the 4-packs that can be found under the bathroom sinks.

What am I afraid of?

Oh, I don't know. Trauma of Girl scout latrine duty back in the 4th grade, I suppose. A million chores to divide and I, moi, got latrine duty. You know that guy who does the DIRTY JOBS show on the Discovery channel? Hellooo, that was me back in the 4th grade at girl scout camp. Add to that the time that Kathy Mc C. had an "attack" while we were in the woods without toilet paper (also around 4th grade as I recall) and, well,...those rolls bring me great comfort. And hey, you'll be happy to know there's no need to reach for "alternative toiletries" in this house.

So, Mom earns big points for her hilarious family insider joke on me.
Way to go, Mom (though I will find a way to get you back.)

I have to say, she definitely deserved to get me because I have been relentless in my jokes on her. We've been in a store together and I have found the most hideous looking "Sunday best" floppy straw hat with gaudy plastic flowers and tacky lace on it, placed it on her head and, with several strangers in complete earshot said something like, "Oh, Mom! This will make a beautiful edition to your hat collection. It's very similar to the royal purple one you wore to Mary's wedding last week, only with a bigger brim and no black feathers." And she wants to burst out laughing (or hit me) and all she can do is smile politely (though, if you look carefully, you'll catch a glimpse of her top lip curled in a slight growl.)

And once, while at a craft show, we passed the ugliest clay figurines we had ever seen (they were knobby, lopsided, and the paint appeared runny and childlike.)
"Mom. Oh, Mom! This darling little cat will look perfect on your mantle with the rest of your clay cat collection. Just look at those sweet eyes." And naturally, the eyes were as cock-eyed as could be, and Mom would have to keep a straight face as she tried to fake agreement.

So you see, clueless I was to her carrot and T.P. antics and, rightfully so (though I hate to admit it), she got me good this time.

Toni

Wow! Great mac and cheese (less the cheese)

Oh my goodness!
I made a cheese-free mac-n-cheese today. It was amazingly delicious.
Not one noodle left.
Even my 23 mo old ate it to the tune of three helpings, sticking his little bowl up and requesting, "More" after each serving was gone. Now, there's a tiny bit of cayenne in it, but it didn't bother my kids at all (didn't make it too "hot" for them). But you could leave it out if you're concerned your kids won't like it.

If you have nutritional yeast on hand, you could add a tablespoon (I did). Honestly, it was hard for all of us to accept there was no cheese in it. I mean, it didn't taste just like mac-n-cheese, but it was a good substitute. And it *was* as creamy as its dairy counterpart. Also, if you use Earth Balance (or Smart Balance Light, though not the HEART-RIGHT version), you could eliminate dairy entirely for those who are lactose intolerant. Make it.
It's good!!!

4 quarts water (to cook the pasta)
1 tablespoon sea salt (I eliminated this as it was for boiling the noodles only)
8 ounces macaroni (I used whole wheat)
4 slices of bread, torn into large pieces (I used whole wheat)
2 tablespoons PLUS 1/3 cup non-hydrogenated margarine (ie. Earth Balance)
2 tablespoons shallots or green onion, peeled and chopped
1 cup red or yellow potatoes, peeled and chopped (I used 1 large yellow potato)
1/4 cup carrots, peeled and chopped
1/3 cup onion, peeled and chopped
1 cup water
1/4 cup raw cashews
2 teaspoons sea salt
1/4 teaspoon garlic, minced
1/4 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon lemon juice, freshly squeezed (I used bottled juice)
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/8 teaspoon cayenne
1/4 teaspoon paprika


In a large pot, bring the water and salt to a boil. Add macaroni and cook until al dente. In a colander, drain pasta and rinse with cold water. Set aside.
In a food processor, make breadcrumbs by pulverizing the bread and 2 tablespoons margarine to a medium-fine texture. Set aside.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a saucepan, add shallots, potatoes, carrots, onion, and the 1 cup of water. Bring to a boil, then cover pan and simmer for 15 minutes, or until vegetables are very soft.
In a blender, process the cashews, salt, garlic, 1/3 cup margarine, mustard, lemon juice, black pepper, and cayenne. Add softened vegetables and cooking water to the blender and process until perfectly smooth.
In a large bowl, toss the cooked pasta and blended cheese sauce until completely coated. Spread mixture into a 9 x 12 casserole dish, sprinkle with prepared bread crumbs, and dust with paprika. Bake for 30 minutes or until the cheese sauce is bubbling and the top has turned golden brown.

Toni

My little strawberry blonde is SEVEN!

NOTE: My little man sure knows how to cover the holidays. In the third photo below, he's wearing a patriotic flag sweater and Halloween socks while checking out the Snowman birthday cake he requested. Oh, and note his tongue too. He often licks his lips and says, "Mmmmm," when he thinks something looks delicious. Silly boy!
******************

We said goodbye to baby Sarah just 11 months earlier. It wasn't our choice and we literally had no choice. She came to us as a 2 day old newborn, directly from the hospital, and after 6 weeks of loving her and caring for her around the clock, we said an abrupt goodbye.

So it was quite a surprise when I came in from the tractor that cold November day. A message on my answering machine asking me to call CPS. Normally, if you aren't home when a placement is being made, you are passed up in favor of a family who is immediately available. So it was nothing short of amazing when the caller stated, "If you want to accept this newborn placement, don't worry. We won't pass you up. Just return this call by first thing tomorrow morning when we open." I immediately made the call.
"Yes, we would like to accept the placement."

Carl wasn't home, so I climbed back on the tractor in my plaid CPO and red ear muffs (Clampett rides again!), giving a final crop to the faded blades of grass before winter laid its crystal blanket of ice and snow upon it. Excited. Apprehensive. A bit concerned due to Sarah's leaving. His familiar blue car slowly made its way up our 200 foot stone driveway.

"What?", he inquired cautiously, trying to read the noted expression on my face.
"We're getting a baby. A newborn. A little boy who will be released tomorrow."
That rare, special light began to shine in his sleepy blue eyes.
"Tell me more."
"He's tiny. And full term too, which concerns me. 5 pounds, 8 ounces. That's small. Oh, and they said he's adorable. To quote the nurse and CPS worker, he has a ton of red hair that stands up on his head. A red-headed half pint. And we pick him up tomorrow."

We were so very excited, yet concerned about how it would go. After all, we were second choice in placing him. Another foster family had his sister in their care so they had been asked first. However, even though his sister was in foster care, no one knew her mother was pregant. She delivered Reece just one day after the other foster family had a biological child of their own. So they would have had to take on "twins" in an instant. It was a lot to take on without advance notice.

There was an agonizing moment in this story where, like Sarah, Reece was going to be removed from our home. It had to do with circumstances out of our control again and Carl, believing Reece was leaving, sadly said goodbye to him before leaving on a hunting trip to PA. Imagine the sheer joy I felt when, 3 hours after he left (and with no way to contact him), CPS called me to assure me that Reece would be staying with us after all. I might add that this call came the day before Thanksgiving. Gee, think I had something to be thankful for that year? I literally (literally!) danced in my family room as I laughed out loud at nothing in particular, just filled with supernatural joy placed in my heart by the Lord. And yes, you could have knocked Carl over with a feather when I finally delivered that good news to him later that night.

And so, he became our son. As with all adoptions, the legal details took some time. But in the end (as it was in our hearts from the start), he became our son.
He is quirky, funny, filled with joy and passion. He's sensative and feisty. Curious, yet timid. He talks incessantly about anything and everything, and I cannot easily recall what our lives were ever like before the beautiful noise of him. As I type this, he plays with his beloved marbles and sings, "I love you, I lo-o-ve you. Say to the Lord, I loooove you."

And how we love YOU, dear Reece. Happy birthday to our little strawberry blonde. God has a great plan for your life. I am so privileged to be your mom, to have a front seat in which to watch it all unfold.

Toni

More things that make ya go, 'Hmm'.

Recently, my family and I toured the new Indianapolis International airport, which is slated to open doors for business in three more days. It was a neat "first" experience that left me reflecting on my own years in the industry. Because in all my family's collective years (dad, uncles and sibs all work[ed] in the industry as well), none of us has ever opened a new airport.

I worked in the Pittsburgh airport when the new airport was being built there, but transferred back to Cleveland before it happened. Tuesday, dh will work his last day in the old airport here, and Wednesday he will be part of local history as he opens the new (I did go through a new computer system while at USAir and let me tell you, those first days were UGLY. Remember, Dan? You too, Cheryl? Late flights. Frustrated customers. Lots of confusion. May dh's first day in a new facility go more smoothly.)

So,...today I was out shopping for birthday presents for my Reece, who turned 7 on November 5th (we held a small dinner celebration that day, but will celebrate more tomorrow.) On my way home, I passed the main entrance to the new airport. Oh, how I wish I had my camera. People, nothing but the best for our great city. The sign marking the main entrance was constructed of 2 small poles (think ski poles) and a banner about the size of a real estate sign for your yard. It was SOOO ridiculously small and read, "new Indianapolis airport" or something to that effect.

Honestly? I've seen more obvious and impressive banners painted by highschool cheerleaders for the football team to run through. Oh, I'm sure it's just a matter of construction details, what with having only THREE YEARS to prepare and all (eyeballs a rolling.)

Speaking of shopping for gifts, I had to make a good 25 minute drive to the nearest Toys-R-For-Us (as Reece calls it). Sunday shopping is NOT my idea of a good time (one of the only benefits of airline mid-week days off; no fighting crowds). When I finally made it to the parking lot, the place was jam packed. I circled several times before finally seeing a window of opportunity (a.k.a. a coveted parking space), parked my high-class transportation (Ford pick-up with fully operational refrigeration system on board, which I'll explain later) and scudded in to find a few overpriced toys. I was already not thrilled about a. Sunday shopping, b. the lengthy drive and c. price gouging, so imagine the flushed sensation that swept over me as I groaned about the fact that the baby registry, once tucked in the back of the store, was now an IN YOUR FACE feature the second you walk in.

"I'm here for toys, people. T. O. Y. S. It *is* called Toys-R-For-Us after all."

I "hmmmf"ed past the 19 year old baby concierge, thinking it silly that toys were no longer the frontline feature of the store. I mean, stick a baby registry at the front of Babys-R-Us and it would make total sense.

Not that the two stores being located right next to each other had anything to do with this story.

Not that I might have inadvertently walked into the wrong store or anything.

Uh hem.

Swell.

As for the mention of my Ford pick-up with fully operational refrigeration, it's true. I went to craft night with my girlfriends Miss Sniz and Wani from Wani's World this past Friday night. I needed a few groceries and it was sooo stinkin' cold out. Didn't want the grocery stop to cut into my scrap time (scrapbookers, you know where I'm coming from, yes?) so I decided to grab a few bags of groceries before I headed over to the church. Left 'em all in the back of my pick-up where it was, uh, nice and cool.
'Cause I'm all classy like that.
Just doing my part to go green.
Clampett!

Finally, a Cierah blonde moment.
Today, she peered out our back window toward our pond, where ducks and Canadian geese are frequently spotted.
"Mommy, look at that big chicken."
"Chicken? You mean goose, honey."
"NoooOOo!" (giggles at her obviously clueless momma). Not the geese, Mommy. The chicken. See that big chicken?"
Me, straining to see: " Uh,...nooo. No, I definitely don't see any chickens."
"Not chickens, mom. Just one chicken. That big one. See it now?"
I was about to conclude she was making it up when I suddenly spotted it.
The chicken.



Happy Thanksgiving a few weeks early.

Toni

TUCSON (part deux):

You'd think they would have told us. The government. I mean, it was their website that I got the scenic route information from. Oh sure, they told me where to go and how to get there. They told me what I would see; that "if" I had film left by the time I reached Montezuma pass, I could use it up as I took in the panoramic views over 6,000 feet below, including peering across the border into Mexico. But uh,...it seems they left out a few teensy lil' details. Drive with me.

(yes, we saw this rainbow in the way up)

(and if you look closely, we spotted a horizontal rainbow on the ground; a first)

So the last day of our trip to Tucson, we decided to take the scenic drive from Sonoita, AZ up into the Huachuca mountains to Montezuma pass. This drive was to take over 2 hours and included 25 miles of paved road and 25 miles of dirt road. Now, I could have wondered about the safety of the dirt road but the website specifically mentioned other routes as requiring 4-wheel drive vehicles. This drive, however, was suggested as okay for all. Great!

So, we began our day in Tombstone, AZ, home of the gunfight at the O.K. Corral. Carl and I had been there before but the kids had not. It's a neat step back in time to the days of cowboys, mining and such, enhanced by the preservation of many of the buildings in their original state. We took in a gunfight show, walked the streets of the town, and visited Boothill graveyard before moving on.


(how authentic is this guy?)

Leaving Tombstone, we then made our way toward Sonoita, which was the start of our scenic drive. Now, you have to take in the unique landscape of the Senora desert to appreciate that there is more of a greenscape nestled down in the higher elevations, just an hour or so outside of Tucson. In Benson, for example, the landscape is suddenly a lush, familiar green. Fields of prairie grasses and the appearance of trees are noted (the only "trees" you'll see in Tucson are basically in the Fabaceae, or legume, family and we would identify more with them as "shrubs" here in the Midwest.)

And as we began to climb in elevation, the scenery went from one beautiful terrain(Senora desert) to another (the grasslands of the Huachuca mountains).
It was, simply put, breathtaking.(the terrain went from this...)

(...to this...)
(...to these beautiful cattle ranch grasslands in little more than an hour.)

We passed enormous cattle ranches that encompassed hundreds and hundreds of acres of grasslands. This area has been used for grazing livestock since Spanish missionaries first brought cattle into the area in the late 17th and early 18th century.
So much beauty to behold.
So much history to ponder.
(one of many isolated and enormous cattle ranches in the Huachuca mountains)

(we spotted this jack rabbit on our way up)

*******
One sight in particular intrigued me.
Let's see, you've heard of home churches, yes?
And how about truck stop ministries, you've heard of those too, right?
Well, what about cowboy churches?
Uh huh.
This unique group of ministers reach out to their own, farmers, ranchers, cowboys, horsemen, rodeo contestants, and their families.
We passed Canelo Cowboy church and I just had to hop out and take a picture. There's just something awesome about seeing the body of Christ come together in big ways and small ways.


After snapping a quick photo of the cowboy church, we pressed onward toward our personal Everest, Montezuma pass. The road became more challenging as we continued, often being covered in low lying spots by passable water from previous rains. And in fact it sprinkled a few times as we drove along, a concern I pushed out of my mind in favor of wanting to make the "summit" before dusk (the sun sets earlier and much faster in Tucson than the same time in Indy).


By the time we reached Parker Canyon lake, the sun was low in the sky (Rats! I had hoped to take in the beauty of the lake before moving on.) I knew we had at least 10 miles to go to reach Montezuma pass. A concern. Also, at this point we had passed through several water covered areas on the road, along with many ruts in what was now the dirt road part of our trip. Another concern.



My mind began wandering.

Why didn't the website mention the water covered roads?
Or the beautiful but dangerous cliffs we were now driving along?
Or the extreme isolation up here?
Or the absence of gas stations or convenience stores or any real sign of human life what-so-ever?

We were in major remoteness, I tell you.
Dusk was coming fast.
And we got rid of our cell phones just a month before this trip.
No access to gasoline.
And I just began to feel...unsettled.
What to do???

"Honey, I don't think we should go any farther. I mean, it's still a long way up and the road conditions are worsening. This little town here at Parker Canyon lake is probably the last sign of life, other than cattle, until we reach Montezuma pass. I'm disappointed that we didn't get an earlier start because I wanted to go the whole way but...it's just too scary for me now. Let's turn around."

"We came this far and I can see the pass."
(Carl's not bitin'. Ya takin' this dialogue in?)

Me: "Yeah, well I can see huge boulders waiting to fall down off those peaks. And I also see that winding road that goes straight-freakin' up and I don't want to be on it."
"Really? Where? Oh, I see it now!" Carl inches the van in the direction of our personal Everest, embracing the winding uphill road ahead with great excitement. And honestly, problem is we couldn't have turned around even if we had wanted to. There was simply no safe place to do that now. Think one-lane dirt road worn into a mountainside.
(look carefully; we just traveled that winding road on the right side of the photo)

The air was getting thin (perhaps due to my near panic attack?) as I pondered,
"There's no base camp!
No Sherpas!
I'm going to expire up on this big rock and no one will ever know."

Truth be told, I wanted to see the "summit" too, but at the same time I was terrified. Truly! And it didn't help not one eensy bit that Carl is a sight seer. He needn't be the driver on death defying scenic routes because he's always looking for deer. And here in the Huachuca mountains he thought he just might catch a glimpse of a bear or mountain lion (he didn't, btw, and the only growling he heard was from the passenger seat next to him). Swell, so he's sightseeing. But not such a great activity when he was hugging a straight-up mountainside (with huge boulders hanging in the balance) on his side of the van, whilst my side was waaay too close to the most dangerous cliffs I've encountered in my entire life. I mean, there was an absolute sheer drop and it was intimidating. And while he assured me we had "plenty" of room to pass another car, I can tell you there was absolutely nowhere to turn around (who you sidin' with?) so suffice it to say we barely found a spot to pull over as border patrol passed. Carefully, dh pulled to the side...

Wait!
Did someone say "border patrol"?

Oh yeah!

Not just one vehicle either.
There were two.
On that first pass.
Then another.
And another.
And another after that.
And....
In fact, we passed at least 8 descending border patrol vehicles as we neared the summit.
Hmm, strange. We hadn't seen any earlier.

Climbing, climbing, climbing toward the summit in a race against the setting sun.
Carl the hunter was spotlighting for big game (less the spotlight, of course).
The kids were in the backseat with their hands in the air, pretending to be on a rollercoaster ride as they shouted, "Weeeeeeeee!", my 1yo included.
Reece was babbling, "I love cliffs. This is like the Hoosier Hurricane. Wee, wee, weeeeee!"

I was now a lovely shade of pasty green.

So border patrol was everywhere (no doubt discussing clueless tourists like us with some not-so-pretty adjectives).
And I was feeling faint due to anxiety and a serious case of vertigo brought on by my fear of heights. Because let's face it, hugging the edge of the biggest cliffs you've ever encountered is, well, freakin' unnerving.

Oh sure, I saw wildlife; a jack rabbit for example. But I also thought I saw silouettes moving in the shadows too. My imagination? Read on.
And I also worried about the setting sun, absence of cell phone, treacherous cliffs, and.....

"We made it!"
Carl was elated.

Straight ahead was a sign that read, "You have made it to Montezuma Pass, elevation 6,500 feet."

Well, sweet glory be!

But now there was a new scare.
Another sign with a less than welcoming message.


Chills passed through me from head to toe.
What smuggling activity specifically?
Are we talking drug smuggling?
Or illegal immigration?
Or human trafficking?
Just what exactly are we dealing with? The government website didn't say anything about this. Nor about the treacherous cliffs. Or the poor road conditions. Or the need for cell phones and water (not that I wouldn't know some of these things, but really, the sign? I cannot believe we were not forewarned.) Overwhelming. Yet,....
I was now literally on top of the world (or at least on top of Arizona) with one of the most incredible views I've ever taken in. I was terrified to get out of the car, but....

"Lord, keep me safe for another 30 seconds while we take a quick look-see, then get back in our van and try to make it off this mountain in the near dark of night that is soon be upon us. Amen and amen."
(the photos look so one-dimensional. This is actually a glimpse down below from 6,500 feet up, but it wrongly appears that I am level with the land in the shot)
(looking down from Montezuma Pass, across the border into Mexico)

It was really just too awesome to pass up.
We were on top of the world.
We made it and we needed to get out and see it.
So we jumped out, read a few historical markers, learned that indeed we were looking out at the landscape of Arizona and the Mexican border, then I of course panicked over the unsafe cliffs surrounding us on all sides. Complete drop offs in every direction. And other than the parking lot we stood in, there was no sign of life. Just a foot trail further up into the hills (oh sure, like that was going to happen) and the access road that that descended down in one of two directions; back the way we came (it took us a good 2½ hours to make it up in daylight, mind you) or down the other side. The very steep and nauseating other side.
What to do?
Whaaaat to do?
(see that winding road? Yep, our way down. And pictures do it NO justice, because beyond that red rail is a drop off that rivals the Grand Canyon, no exaggeration.)

Just then, a border patrol agent pulled into the lot (How many is that?) The kids and I were literally running to the car due to the gusting wind and cold temps at that elevation (we had shorts on and it might have been 60º up there). Carl approached border patrol to find out what the best route is off the mountain.
Border patrol stepped out of the car.

WHOA!
With a gun.

A freakin' MACHINE gun, people. What the heck???

Okay, so now it was written in stone. Those warning signs were not to be taken lightly (not that we did).
Couldn't wait to google it when I got home.
My thoughts returned to the dilemma at hand.

Must get off mountain.

NOW!

Border patrol told Carl that we should descend in the opposite direction because it was "less treacherous." Well, he surely couldn't be serious. Because I looked down that way and it scared the heeebie jeebies out of me. That,...that side, with its switchback road and steep decline. Is that border patrol agent a rational being? Didn't he see our family wheels (oh, that the rental car company should so appreciate the risks we took with their vehicle) And didn't he see our four lovely chitlins? We uh, needed to actually make it out of there alive.
I mean, I was half expecting him to call in the rescue helicopter (yes, seriously).
He didn't.
How rude.

Down, down, down we started.
Straight...
flippin'...
down.

The kids were "weeeeeee"ing again.
Carl was chatting incessantly (I do think I told him sternly to stop, as I was under extreme duress by now). I kept repeating, "Slow down. Watch the road. Oh my. Watch the road. Oh my. Please be careful. Oh my." Not sure he heard me. It seems he was enjoying the switchback road too much to notice.

Down, down, down.

Then he threw it in reverse.

Oh yes you did too hear that right.
Uh huh. Night was upon us. So was "illegal smuggling" (whatever that meant specifically).
And treacherous cliffs were still sticking to our sides like bad potatoes. And yet, my dear husband threw the van in reverse on the worst best ride of my life.

"Why?"

Glad you asked.
Because he saw a bug.
A big bug.
A big, BIG bug.
In the road.
You know it had to be a big bug if he could spot it in the dark of night, in the middle of the road.

A tarantula.
All together now.
Ewwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


I'm relieved to say that I can now sing "Happy Trails" to you, as we did obviously make it safely down out of the Huachuca mountains. The view was breathtaking. And the experience, while well beyond nerve wracking, was intense and intoxicating. And just as the combination of sweet and sour can be conflicting yet wonderful, so too (for some strange reason related to the human condition) can the combined experience of fear and invigoration.
Had we known about the safety issues beforehand, we never would have found ourselves on this, uh hem, "adventure." But we didn't know, and we added another facet of incredible life experiences as a result. For that, I'm grateful. Glass half full.

If you ever get the chance to go to Tucson, don't miss it. The Saguaro is such a beautiful rare treasure and the sunsets are beyond incredible. Kids will love the Senora Desert Museum (think zoo or game preserve, but specific to desert dwellers).
(coyote on rock)

They'll also love the geckos that roam freely in the desert and in suburban landscape beds. We (the adults) loved San Xavier Mission Del Bac and our drive through Saguaro National Park, just to name a few.

(the "white dove of the desert", San Xavior mission, on the Tohono O'dham Indian reservation; founded in 1692 and building reconstructed in 1783 after Apache Indians destroyed the original structure)
(ornate ceiling inside the mission)

If you care to read more about the warning signs and what exactly we had unknowingly ventured into, check out the links below. Then thank God for our freedoms in this great nation and pray for those whose lives are in danger as they continue to protect and/or defend those very freedoms on our behalf.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-qTifbUmPQ&feature=related
http://www.desertinvasion.us/

Toni