Spring time in New England, there’s nothing like it!
Category: Around the House
Oh Christmas Tree Indeed!
Christmas tree shopping when I was a kid was an involved process. It frequently took multiple trips to several locations within a 10 mile radius of our home to find “the” tree. Word to the wise, NEVER shop for a Christmas tree with a Virgo.
My tree shopping habits changed when I met A-man. We picked one location (usually a local business or charity) and picked a tree. It was that simple; it took a total of 20, 25 minutes tops! I hardly knew what to do with the extra time. For the last few years, we’ve followed the New England tradition and tagged our tree Thanksgiving weekend and then cut it down ourselves a few weeks before Christmas. The kids get a kick out of the two step process and we like supporting a micro business.
Back to the early days. once it was clear that our relationship was headed towards permanent, A-man and I bought a tree stand. Oh and not just any stand, we bought a beefy, steel Christmas tree stand, the Incredible Hulk of Christmas tree stands. For many years, through cats and puppies, babies and toddlers, the Hulk tree stand served us well. Over the last few years, he’s been slipping a little. We had to install cup hooks so we could tie the tree to insure it wouldn’t fall over. Clearly, The Hulk was was loosing his grip.
This year’s tree tipping incident during the decorating process was the last straw. I’ll admit I was rather attached to The Hulk, but I’m more attached to the ceramic ornaments imprinted with my children’s infant footprints. Ornaments that have thankfully survived all tree crashes to date, but even I know that luck can’t hold out forever. It was time to retire The Hulk. A-man braved the two-weeks-before-Christmas Saturday crowds to find a replacement for The Hulk.
Ahem, have you any idea what it is like trying to find a tree stand two weeks before Christmas??
Three stores and only two choices later, he returned with a tree stand designed to support a 10 foot tree. I would LOVE to have a 10 foot tree, but our 8 foot ceilings just won’t allow it. So, after much wrestling and turning of screws, we managed to stabilize our five foot tree (small even for us) but, we tied the little guy off just in case.
Ah, all is well with the world. Gate off the room to keep out the spastic puppy and on with our Christmas preparations.
Yeah, Not so much.
This is what we came down to this morning.
Thank goodness for the cup hooks and twine. A-man wrestled with it for about 20 minutes this morning while I held it, but it would not stand upright. We are contemplating borrowing my MILs Christmas tree stand. Stay tuned!
Crispy, baked pork chops
One of my favorite dinners growing up was pork chops, baked potatoes, with the mandatory vegetable, homemade applesauce and Crescent Rolls. My mother used Shake ‘N Bake on pork chops and to this day, it is really the only way I enjoy pork chops. If not cooked correctly, chops can be dry and tough, but coated and baked quickly at a high temperature locks in the juices and the tenderness.
Once I started reading labels, Shake ‘N Bake was removed from our pantry. So I set about making my own crispy coating for baked meats. I started with this recipe as a base, but tweaked it to our liking.
I make the seasoning in bulk and store it in a Ziplock bag for use on pork, or chicken. I bet it would work on mild white fish, but since my husband is anti-fish, I doubt I’ll ever get the chance to prove it.
Here is the recipe:
- 4 Cups crushed Corn Flakes (I use the store brand and they are just fine).
- 4T Paprika
- 2T Garlic salt
- 1/2T Onion powder
- 2t Celery flakes
- 1t (scant) Ground pepper
- 1/2t Chili powder
Combine all the ingredients in a bowl and mix thoroughly. Store in tightly sealed plastic bag, or container.
Notes, Panko crumbs are crunchier, but they are also more expensive. I’ve substituted one cup of panko crumbs for one cup of Corn Flakes for a nice compromise.
Crispy Baked Pork Chops
- 5 bone-in pork chops (you can use boneless, I just prefer the bone-in kind).
- 1 heaping cup of Crispy Baking mix (recipe above).
- 1 egg beaten
- 2T Milk
- 1T (Approximately) Extra virgin olive oil
Preheat oven to 425 degrees (unless you are like me and want a baked potato, so the oven is already on).
Combine egg and milk in one bowl.
Combine baking mix and enough olive oil to make the spices adhere to the flakes. the mix will darken slightly.
Rinse and pat dry the pork chops.
Dip a pork chop in milk and egg mixture until coated.
Dip coated pork chop in coating mix turning to coat.
Place on baking sheet (I cover a jelly roll pan in aluminum foil to speed clean up).
Repeat for remaining chops.
Bake at 425 degrees for 15-18 minutes or until chops are no longer show any signs of pink on the inside.
I serve with a baked potato steamed carrots, green beans and homemade applesauce.
Enjoy!
Birthday Cake
So, yes, Mim turned six with much fanfare. There was a family party where he and his birthday twin Auntie Jennie celebrated their birthdays. The menu included hot dogs hamburgers, french fries and chocolate cake. His choice as Auntie decided to skip her birthday this year 😉
On Sunday, we had Timmy’s birthday party with his friends. He asked for a Lightening McQueen cake, no shock there. This will be the third year in a row he requested a Lightening McQueen cake. The first year, we couldn’t get one, the grocery store didn’t offer a Lightening theme. Last year, we found one at Sam’s Club. It was 3 times as much cake as we needed, but Mim was stoked because it came with a functioning McQueen on top. The black frosting used for the road, was a little much though.
We’ve been watching a lot of Ace of Cakes lately, so this year I got brave (or stupid I wasn’t really sure which) and rented a Lightening McQueen cake pan from my local cake and candy supply shop.
The baking and frosting process was an adventure. I overfilled the pan, so the cake erupted all over my oven and took twice as long as I thought it would to bake. BUT, it came out of the pan almost flawlessly. I’m a function over form person, I will pick taste over aesthetics any day, so I made a pure butter cream frosting, no shortening for me. Pure buttercream tastes better, but it is also softer, so it doesn’t hold it’s form as well as a frosting made with shortening. Add to that the 100% humidity and things were a little squishy on the frosting front.
All that said, I don’t think it came out half bad. Most importantly, Mim loved it.
Let Kids be Kids
When I was a kid, I was very active. There was Girl Scouts and I played softball for a while then soccer. When I moved on to middle school, I tried intramural gymnastics and synchronized swimming, chrous, band and drama. In high school I was in marching band, the stage crew and I had a part time job. Life was busy that’s for sure.
Today the atmosphere of kids activities feels different. There is a pressure that in my opinion makes both kids and parents crazy. Today, it feels as though kids are being forced to pick a focus at a younger and younger age. The intramural programs where the intent is to offer exposure and build skills is targeted at the four to six year old set. Today competitive programs that are aimed to prepare kids for long term success start at about seven or eight depending on the activity.
Until recently, Fish was taking a recreational gymnastics class. Once she decided that gymnastics was no longer for her she was on the hunt for a new activity. Fish was born with gills. She loves to swim and loves the water (thus, her nickname). She wanted to look at swim team. The only local program is offered by the YMCA. I asked for the program details while there for Mim’s swimming lessons.
Whoa! I was handed a twenty page packet outlining the responsibilities and requirements. Keep in mind that this program accepts children as young as 6.
Requirements:
Full Y annual membership (in our case$126 based on her age).
Program registration fee $175 for 10 weeks.
Practice three times a week for 1 hour.
Our school day ends half an hour later than the district the Y primarily serves, so to make practice on time, I’d have to pick Fish up at school and rush into town. Not to mention, the need to entertain her brother for the hour and half it would take her to practice and dress (his level of swim class isn’t offered at the same time). We wouldn’t be home until at least 6 pm with homework, dinner, and showers to cram into the next 2 – 3 hours. I hate most mushy food, so crock pot meals are out and A-man doesn’t get home until 6-6:15, most nights, so he wouldn’t be able to get things started.
That’s just during the week, during the spring “off season”. I read ahead to the schedule for the fall and winter when anywhere from one to three weekends are taken up (at least partially) by meets. Meets are all over the region and parents are expected to provide transportation AND onsite support for the meets.
I felt overwhelmed just reading the paperwork. Fish is ten with a wonderful imagination and a need for down time each day. We are family of four. My husband works at a distance and over the next few months will be working on the completion of a big project. That means, an unpredictable schedule and an increased chance of late nights. Thus all the home management falls to me. I’m ok with that, BUT I also recognize that I’m human and I can’t do it all.
I love my daughter, but the truth is I don’t think she’s the next Olympic Gold Medal swimmer and even if she is, that level of competitive success takes dedication her parents don’t possess. Does that make me a bad mother? I don’t think so but still, the thougths nag at me. Mostly along the lines of “everyone else is doing it”. One mom says “Soccer season has started, so weeknights from 2 to 8, I’m either at the field or driving there, yet another family talks about four nights a week of baseball practices and two games on Saturdays.
I listen to these other parents who drive their kids hither and yon and I think “Good for them, but I don’t want that for our family”. As much as I believe in supporting my children’s dreams, I think it is important for them to understand that they are part of a family. They matter, they are important, but the world does not revolve around them. I have a say how my time is spent as well. If I worked full time outside of our home, things would be a whole lot more hectic, but A-man and I have made different choices for ourselves and our family. Our choices may not be yours and I can’t say that they come guilt free because they don’t but they are well thought out and we stand by them.
So, I said no. No to the craziness and yes to a childhood for her and her brother. I know as she ages the commitments will get bigger, and I’ll cross those bridges as we come to them, but this was too much, too soon for her and for our family.
I don’t mean to criticize any one else’s choices and frankly as the kids get older, our choices will likely change. Who knows, maybe I will need to befriend the crock pot. But right now? I just want a little more calm than chaos for my family.
Fish took it well and we are still searching for and enrichment activity that interests her without overtaking all of our lives.
Siblings
Allow me to set the scene. It is the end of the day. I’ve spent the afternoon at swimming lessons and grocery shopping with Mim and have just picked up Fish from Girl Scouts. She’s giggly with her friend while we walk to the car. As we get in the car, Mim asks Fish if her friend has an younger brother. “No, she has an annoying younger sister like you.” I call foul on that comment. Once we buckle up, she’s moody and stares out the window.
“Ok, what’s up?” I ask at home as we get out of the car. I’ve sent Mim into the house in an effort to grab a minute of one on one time.
“It’s HIM she nods her head towards the house. He’s just so . . . embarrassing! He acts so cool and he’s not! He embarrasses me in front of my friends. I want the old Mim back.”
I’m immediately defensive. “Oh” I say, walking away. “I thought something was really wrong.” Oh yeah, there’s my nomination for the mother of the year award.
I’ve heard this is standard faire between siblings, but I have no personal experience in this area. Here in, lies the rub. I was an only child. I would have liked to have had a sibling but for a variety of reasons, it wasn’t meant to be. When A-man and I talked about having kids, I was clear, that I wanted kids but that I would entertain the idea of not having kids. However, if there was one, there would be two. I didn’t want to raise another only child. It was a bit of a lonely childhood and frankly a royal pain in the a$$ in adulthood. I have PCOS, so we had to work to have one. We tried unsuccessfully for a year an a half to have a second. Ultimately, I resigned myself to raising an only and I moved on with other life plans. Six weeks later, I was pregnant with my Mim (yes, I am one of THOSE annoying fertility stories).
They are four years and two months apart and all in all, they get a long very well. At times the age difference is a challenge, but mostly it works. A-man and I make a conscious effort to have quality time with both kids alone and together. Fish generally is an awesome big sister. She looks out for him and he worships the ground she walks on. I also try to be sure she has alone time with her friends.
After I collected my thoughts, I went to talk to her. I know her brother can be frustrating. That child frequently stomps on my last nerve. I wholeheartedly agree he can be embarrassing. Fortunately, he’s young enough that the expressions and attitudes he regurgitates from his favorite video game (Cars) are still considered cute. He can be loud and bossy and short tempered. But, he’s her brother and he’s not going away.
So, dear readers, what advice do you have for me? I hope that overall, they will continue to get along, but I suspect as we meander through the teen years this is going to be minefield we revisit regularly. To some extent I want to validate her feelings, but lets face it, he’s a little brother. From what I gather, it is his JOB to embarrass her.
Suggestions? Cautionary tales? Anecdotes I can use to illustrate that she’s not alone in this? HELP!!
Photo credit: Target Portrait Studios. FWIW, they do an awesome job!
Crack Pie
Oh, my!
I have a sweet tooth (those who know me well are laughing at that one). I also love to bake sweet treats for any gathering. When I saw the recipe for Crack Pie TM in a LA Times article syndicated in my local paper, my response bordered on Pavlovian.
Crack Pie, so named because it is so addictive, is a creation of MomoFuko, a bakery and milk bar in Manhattan. I am not anywhere near hip enough to live in Manhattan nor, am I rich enough (the pies retail for $44). and I have no idea what a milk bar is, but oh, the Crack Pie.
I made it for Easter and it was as good as promised. The crust is my kind of crust, not finicky, just hearty, a mix of oatmeal, brown sugar, butter, salt, more butter and more brown sugar. The filling, a mix of sugar, eggs, heavy cream vanilla and butter is nothing short of sinful. It is gooey and rich and *sigh*. Ahem, oh, wait, sorry, where was I? Making Crack Pie yes. I only had nine inch pie plates, so my filling was a little thicker and I think I liked it that way.
It is a very rich creation, so small slices suffice even for this sugar addict. Unlike the author of the LA Times article, I agree with the creator, Christina Tosi, Crack Pie is better cooled.
I will make this recipe again, but I think next time, I might try putting the crust in mini-cupcake tins and make little tarts. One tart might be enough to appreciate the tastes, but one will never be enough to satisfy the craving.
I intended to take pictures, but the pie disappeared before I was able to wipe the grease off my fingers to get my camera.
Writing about why I haven’t been writing
Well the last week here in Skeeterville has been fun. I started a week ago Monday when I awoke at 4am to Mim vomiting IN HIS SLEEP. Clearly it had happened a few times and sleeps-like-a-rock mommy didn’t hear him. When I woke him to clean him up, first words out of his mouth? “Mom, Fish and I unlocked Carburetor Canyon On Mater Nationals.”
Um yeah buddy that’s great, but can mommy get the chunks of grilled cheese out of your hair please?
24 hours later, he was up and running, but I was down for the count with a Sinus headache and a clogged nose. When I’m sick, I can’t go above and beyond. I can really only handle the basics and even then, not that well. I thought this might be allergies, so I didn’t start Zicam soon enough. Thus, my mucus under pressure and the associated cold medicine haze lasted far longer than it should have.
Come Saturday, I was still pretty miserable, but it was a beautiful day, so I lazed on the sun porch while everyone else enjoyed the burst of spring. Fish and her dad went for a bike ride. When she came back, she complained of nausea. Despite her nick name, Fish does not drink much therefore, she is highly susceptible to dehydration. I gave her a Gatorade and told her to rest. Thankfully, she is old enough (and was awake enough) to make it to the bathroom when the Gatorade decided to make a return appearance. Oh thank you stomach bug for coming back to visit us once again and AGAIN via A-Man on Monday Morning during his bus ride to work!
Here is it Tuesday, and everyone is back on their feet. My head is only mildly clogged and I am left with the debris left over from a week of ignoring life.
There is much to write about, but little time and the cold medicine is impacting my ability to thread thoughts together.
There’s always tomorrow!
Rosie, the Roomba
I HATE to clean. It is a rare bird who likes to clean, but most people tolerate it and actually make an effort to do it regularly. Many people are bothered by dust bunnies, or sand crunching under foot. Me? I was born with the innate ability to completely ignore filth. It is only when the dust bunnies stand up and growl that I am moved to action.
Stop dialing the Health department, I’m not THAT bad, but I really don’t like to clean.
iRobot was a sponsor of Blissdom ‘10 so last month, I had the chance to see a Roomba in action. I’ve heard of Roomba before and I’ll be honest, I didn’t really think it worked. I don’t know why I thought that. It’s not like I’d heard people complain about their Roombas, it just struck me as a gadget, one that was too good to be true. You have to understand, we are a family of 4 blondes, plus a cat and until very recently a long a haired collie. It’s a contest to see who sheds more, us or the pets. My couches are the color of faded jeans and young and naive, I thought dark blue area rugs with plaid borders would look make my decore look like jeans and a flannel shirt. They weren’t on the floor 5 minutes when I recognized I had doomed myself to daily vaccuuming or grayish rugs. Guess which one won?
The ladies at the iRobot Booth told me there was a Roomba just for me the Roomba 562 Pet Series
I told A-man about my encounter with Roomba and the about the 20% discount iRobot was offering to Blissdom attendees. I planned to look online for consumer feedback, then honesstly, I got lost in the post conference catch-up and forgot all about it.
He did not.
About 10 days later, Scott, my UPS guy brought me a box from iRobot and made me promise to tell him how I liked it.
I LOVE THE ROOMBA!!
Let me say that again, I LOVE THE ROOMBA.
I named her Rosie.
I am a believer. My blue rugs? They look blue, not gray. We live on a dirt road and our driveway is also dirt. Take shoes off or leave them on, it really doesn’t matter, there is dirt all through the house. Rosie takes care of it. When the she encounters dirt, a blue light comes on and she spins in circles until she has collected the offending substance. Let’s just say Rosie’s blue light is almost always on in my house.
I shouldn’t tell you this, but she spent at least an hour just under our bed the first time she cleaned our room. That’s the cat’s domain. I guess it had been awhile since I’d gotten under there!
You simply set Rosie on the floor and press the button that says CLEAN and leave her to her duties. She even does a little cheer before she gets started. Girlfriend likes her job! Depending on the size of the room and the level of dirt, she may stop and take a break and ask you to empty her dust collection bin and clean her brushes. In our house that takes a little work (remember all that hair?), but Rosie came with tools that make cleaning her brushes quick and easy. Return the brushes to their home, press clean and Rosie is off and running.
She even leaves vaccuum lines!!
You can schedule when she runs (so you could do it while you are out) and she comes with two virtual walls, so you can limit her focus to a specific space. When all is said and done, she returns to her base to recharge issuing another little cheer. I guess like any busy woman, she’s happy to collapse into bed at the end of the a productive day.
She’s quieter than my canister vacuum, but she is a little loud for constant background noise if say, you were on the phone. Rosie the Roomba is round, so corners aren’t her strength, but she gets darned close. She even fits under the toe kicks under my kitchen cabinets. She also doesn’t do stairs, but she’ll collect the pile of of dirt, I push to the bottom using a Swifter. Having Rosie doesn’t completely eliminate the need for a competent human to operate a full sized vacuum once in a while, but it sure does extend the time between uses of said vacuum.
It’s a gadget, yes, but it is a gadget that works! Oh, and don’t discount the entertainment factor.
iRobot was a sponsor of Blissdom ‘10 a fantastic blogging conference I attended last month. I am writing this post to share with you my opinions, and to thank iRobot for their sponsorship of such an awesome event. As a recovering event planner, I understand the importance and value of sponsors to an event’s success. That said. Everything stated here is my own personal opinion and was in no way requested or influenced by iRobot.
Daisy Dog
Daisy Dog
June 14, 1998 – February 17, 2010
We didn’t pick her, she picked us.
My husband always had dogs growing up. I always wanted a dog. We got a cat not long after we were married and finally in 1998, we owned a house and had the space and schedule for a dog. I would have taken a mutt from the pound, but A-Man had always had collies, so we located a breeder and went to see the puppies she had one fall weekend. The outside kennel was chaos. There were dogs every where. All very excited to see people. We met many dogs that day, but one, a butterscotch colored female came over, and sniffed A-Man and then basically tried to sit on his head. She was loving and affectionate from the get go. She was ours, and we named her Daisy.
As I recall, her puppyhood was marked by ups and downs. House breaking her wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t brutal either. She was four months old by the time we brought her home, so I think that made it easier. She chewed a pair of my sunglasses and I thought she ate a pack of my sewing needles. Turns out she had just nibbled the plastic. She took to a crate easily. One night, my husband and I were watching TV and heard the door to the crate close. She’d put herself to bed.The cat had long since claimed the role of Queen and Daisy fell in line with the pecking order. Even when the kids came, she adjusted fairly easily. She learned to give toddlers a wide berth and later she would learn about the unwavering affection of older kids.
Daisy loved to go on long walks through the neighborhood. She was friendly, gentle and loved people. We had to abandon teaching her to give us a paw because when she raised her paw, she’d knock over the little kids trying to show off. Most of our neighbors loved her. Danny the mailman brought her a little biscuit everyday and would stop to talk with her and pet her. Neighborhood kids would stop by to chat and pet her regularly.
She didn’t like riding in the car (she’d get sick) and she developed a passionate dislike for anything with a gasoline engine. Our lot was triangle shaped and she spent much of her day outside in a kennel that had road on either side. She would have a fit every time a school bus or garbage truck drove past. She had that long collie nose that would sometimes get her into trouble and she had an uncanny knack for lying right where I needed to walk.
She wasn’t crazy about being outside at night. She’d howl. We did our best to keep her in after dark, but by then we had our daughter and sometimes it couldn’t be helped. One night, we came home and she was gone, her kennel door wide open. She was located the next day, two towns away. We could never prove it, but we’re pretty sure a neighbor took her for a ride and let her go. After that, we locked her kennel and had her microchipped. Now that I think about it, that was the about the time we started talking about moving North.
Daisy was thrilled when we moved to New Hampshire. She had the run of two four plus acre lots and by then, my mother-in-law had adopted one of her distant cousins. Daisy was in her glories.She was pretty good about staying close to home, but a few times, the wind blew something across that nose and she just had to follow it. It was thanks to Daisy that we met some of our new neighbors. She once spent an entire day at a neighbors house playing with her dog and 3 kids.
The was never a doubt, Daisy was A-man’s dog. As a puppy, she’d join him on the couch when he watched TV. Later, she claimed her spot on the floor in front of the couch. She was right there when A-man sat down and took his shoes off. She knew her loves were coming next.
In the new house, her dog bed (an oversized stuffed dog), was at the end of our bed and in her younger years, she’d come upstairs after us and lay down. She’d let out a big sigh like she was deflating and if A-Man and I talked too long or laughed too loud, she’d groan like we were disturbing her.
Eventually, her hips and knees started to give her trouble and she slept on the first floor. Age was taking its toll, but she was still her loving, easy going self.
Last night, she woke my husband up whining from the first floor. He let her out and she didn’t come right back. When he found her, she was clearly having a hard time breathing and in distress. We called the local emergency clinic and made arrangements to bring her in. We debated waking the kids. Poor Daisy was in rough shape and we knew what measures we were willing to take. Things weren’t looking good. Ultimately we woke Fish and had her say her goodbyes.The initial exam showed a tumor on her spleen and the possibility of bloat (when the stomach turns upside down). Regardless poor Daisy was facing major surgery. There were doubts as to whether she would even make it through the surgery, so we made the difficult decision to euthanize her.
You know when you bring a dog into your life, chances are good you will out live her, but still it is sad when they go.
Singer/Songwriter Scott Kirby says four good dogs are all you can count on in life. Daisy was one of our four.
Rest in Peace Daisy Dog thanks for all the loves and the groans. We’ll be sure to look out for trucks!
Live Fearless Lee 