"Meats' not on the menu, boys."

I can't help it. Sometimes I must sneak in movie quotes. The MIS-quote above is from The Lord of the Rings, one of my favorite book series and movies. The actual quote is, "Meats' back on the menu, boys." The entire scene is pretty unappetizing...

On to better things. No meat. When a day off is enjoyed, lunch becomes much more than leftovers warmed in the microwave or a pb & j sandwich.

Today, lunch was cooked in my panini grill. Recently purchased after a neck and neck bidding war at the H.C.C.S. annual auction. Yes, a sandwich. But contents are everything.

Dijon mustard, thinly sliced red onion, jalapeno slices, zucchini slices, fresh ground black pepper, Smart Balance butter spread on the outside, and fresh spring lettuce from my garden (as long as the leaves are not touching the grill, the lettuce gets wilted, but tastes great). It only gets better into the produce section of the menu as summer unfolds in the garden.

Dessert was freshly picked strawberries.

(garden strawberries resting in the berry colander I made in a pottery class)

Grow, garden, grow.

Warning: Dehydrator Already in Use

Oregano overwintered very well in the somewhat protected triangle garden (kitchen cutting garden near the back door, so designated due to the shape and to avoid confusion with other garden areas).

This was first for me, to have such a successful early crop of oregano. Mmmm. Smells great. Grew to bushy heights quite quickly. In fact, it was ready to go to bloom a few weeks back.

I kept my eyes on it, waiting for the time to dig out the dehydrator. Once that window opened up, out came the scissors and whack, whack, the lovely stems were chopped down to size.

After a good wash, I layered the entire plant's worth of greens on the dehydrator trays.

Et, voila'!

A jar of ready-to-go this winter oregano fresh from my garden.

There's still plenty of oregano to go around. Hoping for a few more cuttings.
Oregano, anyone?

Welcome, Little Striped Friends

Ahhhhhh.

The bloom of white blossomed thyme. The creep of fushia/purple ground cover thyme. White strawberry blooms. Smiling Johnny jump-ups. Irritating clover attacking the thyme. Coral bells. Daisies.

Abundance of color and blooms.

And happy are my little buzzing friends. Busy as a ..., bee, they are indeed. Annoyed only when I creep too close with my camera. But mostly peaceful as they go about the job of gathering and disseminating.

Welcome, helpers.

Why I Haven't Been on Facebook

Had the grands from Friday night to Saturday night. That doesn't seem that long when I look at those typed words. But the reality is how much is crammed into 24 hours of grandbaby loving. And chasing. And cooking. Cleaning. Fixing. Wiping up. Hugging. Explaining. Laughing. NOT sleeping.

(Before they left, Mommy giving tummy bubbles and sister on the way to help brother)

The grands were awesome. Yes, we are exhausted, but I'll blame my cold. Papa slept with Bubba in the big bed, and Nana slept with sister in the guest bed. Not that we needed to split up. She was stretched flat against my back and side all night, with me hanging on to the edge. He was scooched up glued to Papa's back with Papa claiming only a scant foot of the king size. We could have happily fit on one bed.

Things we loved:

~ Upon seeing Papa's nearly bald top of his head (most people don't see Papa from that angle, as he's 6'2"), "Papa, you got more hair?"
~ Sister's cheek splitting grins and racing crawls to grab my pants leg and pull herself up
~ BOTH living room and TV room floors covered with toys
~ Enough crumbs on the table, chairs, and floor to encourage an eminent ant invasion
~ As he discovered my hair barrette, and after giving him a lesson on how to open and close it, Bubba wanted to wear it. So I clipped the brown beauty on the top of his head, holding tight to a small hank of hair. Gleefully, he exclaimed, "It fits me!" "Go show Papa." Zoom. He was gone.
~ Little fingers playing in my hair in the wee hours of daylight
~ Those same fingers grasping my fingers over my shoulder as we dozed on the edge of the bed
~ Pancakes from scratch before 6:30 am. Since we all got up at 5:20 am.
~ Driving the huge, poor steering red car cart at Freddy's when purchasing a total of 2 donuts, just so they could drive and squeal. And charm other shoppers.
~ Pretend riding the horse at the north Freddy's entrance. Even if it was out of order.
~ Hayden worried that we didn't get Papa a donut. So he ran out on the porch and came back with a Meyer's bag. Of course, it held ant traps, but it was from Meyer's. (Fred Meyers)
~ Very loud and vocal squeals of delight from both grands as they climbed, jumped, crawled, and toppled on all available cushions mounded on the floor.
~ Bubster accosting one of my pink Avon lip balms and frequently smearing it all around his lower face (some did get on his lips). "My chapstick," he proclaimed each time he used it.
~ Taking 0 photos or posting online the entire time

Aren't grands grand?

No Lists in Heaven

I am a list maker. I make lists that are never completely crossed out. Sometimes, I transfer what is left on a list to a new list so I can have fresh paper. I think I may be a bit weird. Perhaps compulsive about list making. But in all honesty, if it is NOT written down somewhere (napkin, notepad, back of envelope, hand...) it is not going to happen.

Today, at the dentists' office, the hygienist and I were discussing life. As one usually does with people working in your mouth, or airplane seat partners, or bus mates, or people in waiting rooms. One of my first comments, after we discussed our adorable grandchildren, was about how I couldn't decide if I would rather go to the dentist or the gynecologist. We decided it depended on which one we were actually at. At the dentist, I would rather be visiting the gynecologist. At the gynecologist, I'd rather be at the dentist.

In spite of all that, my blood pressure was awesome! It's usually up at the dentist. I have extreeeemmmeeeely sensitive teeth. That's because I clench. All night long. Sometimes during the day. Especially when I am stressed about stuff. Occasionally I don't even recognize that I am stressed until my night guard is tight when I put it on (which means I have been clenching during the day without noticing).

As she scraped and poked and prodded and measured, I finally said, during a swallow break, "I think the gynecologist has one thing going for him. It doesn't take this long!"

We both laughed. To which she replied, "Could you imagine an hour up in those stirrups?" ARgghhhh! Certainly not.

While filling her in on my health life, which included, "Did you notice you have clenched a hole through your night guard? (WHAT? It's not even a year old. Sigh.), I was sharing about my lists. And how my lists never get done.

Bingo! I know! In Heaven, there will be no lists.

We both sighed. How beautiful and relaxing that sounded! No lists. And an eternity to complete whatever it is we need to do. Joy.

I'll add that reason to my list of why Heaven is going to be fabulous.

No more lists.

Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day, all you moms. And happy us, for without our mothers we would not be here!

Some things we did for our moms:

At school:
~ Mother's Tea (a dress up affair, complete with lace tablecloths, flowers, tea, and fancy cookies
~ Handmade fan for hot days and table tents
~ Tissue wrapped annual flower (we used cute napkins as tissue paper)
~ Scrapbook type of gift containing photos, school work, and samples
~ Meringue decorated sugar cookies (one of the many fancy cookies we had)
~ Card made with cut out hands of each student
~ Short program with songs and sign language
~ Slide show on hi-tech TV, along with background music playing

At church:
~ Tissue wrapped bedding plant for each mom (for both school and church, I had a surplus of Johnny-jump-ups volunteer this spring, so they were free!)
~ CupOGold chocolate candy bar for each mom, because they are as precious as gold to us
~ Special sermonette about moms

At home:
~ Baked potato and salad bar, smorgasbord from potluck provided toppings for both
~ Tissue wrapped annual (again, from my garden)
~ Shortbread cookie treats (shortbread cookies, topped with mango/orange/peach jam from Costco, drizzled chocolate, and chopped pecans - delish!)
~ Gift bag for moms of pretty smelling stuff (hand lotion, hand cream, bath gel, and new bath scrubby)
~ Hand stamped cards with an Asian influence, including my best try at re-creating the character for Mother
~ Cards mailed and texts sent to those family moms long from our location, but close in our hearts

Moms - YOU ROCK!

Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long upon the land which the LORD your God is giving you. (Exodus 20:12, NKJV).

My son, hear the instruction of your father, and do not forsake the law of your mother; For they will be a graceful ornament on your head, and chains about your neck (Proverbs 1:8-9, NKJV).

Old is Relative

Old is relative.

There is a current fascination with my age. As compared to the 5 and 6 year-old ages in my classroom. It consistently comes up. Finally, I've had to actually tell them my age. In hopes that it will become old (no pun intended) news and they will move on to other sensitive issues.

During our weekly discussion of "How Old Are You?" (the kids only ask me, not each other, as they keep accurate accounts in their minds of who has turned 6 and who has not - if only they could keep those fine memory skills for things like memory verses or letter sounds or number recognition), I told them higher, higher, STOP. At 49.

Before they could say ANYTHING, I said, "Now, when someone tells you their age, it will hurt their feelings if you say, Wow, that's old!" I then proceeded to give some lovely suggestions on kind things to say to an old person such as myself. I received curious looks, but the more perceptive children were seriously considering kind things to tell me.

On to other topics. For instance, yesterday I learned that I was a soft, fluffy pillow. Wow. Combine that with OLD and an attractive picture is being made.

Guess I better hit the track.