a bag of chips

Band Wagon, revisited.

A few years ago I saw a bumper sticker that I have not been able to track down.  It is a very powerful message, especially for adoptive parents, birth parents, and pro-lifers.  So, since I couldn't find the bumper sticker anywhere, and since Cafe Press is so easy to use, I created my own stuff with this powerful message and started  yet another Cafe Press store.  To see what I'm talking about, view my second store by clicking here.

Dinner.

I love my crock pot.  My slow cooker.  My best friend in the kitchen.  If my crock pot had lips, I'd kiss it.  Well, not that that's stopped me before.  Anywhooooo, I'm always on the look-out for slow cooker recipes.  My favorite, the one I put together for dinner tonight is B-B-Q chicken.  Here are the extremely complicated instructions for making this delectable dish:

Frozen chicken breasts (I usually use four for dinner and left-overs)

1 tsp (or more) chopped garlic

1/2 (or more) of an onion, roughly chopped

1/2 to one bottle of your favorite B-B-Q sauce, depending on how many chicken breasts

1/2 tsp chili pepper flakes or favorite hot sauce (a kick-ass option for you spicy lovers out there)

Rolls, bread, buns, or tortillas

Turn on crock pot.  Go about your day.  Enjoy the smells of B-B-Q emanating from your kitchen all day.  Hear your sweet son say, "Mom, dinner smells delicious!" when he awakes from his nap.

Then have a feast with B-B-Q chicken sandwiches, salad and sweet potato oven fries:

2 or 3 sweet potatoes (or yams)

Cut into 1/4-inch-thick wedges or circles

In a large plastic baggie, add 1/2 cup olive oil, 1/2 cup chopped onion, pepper and generous amounts of garlic salt.  Close bag and shake to allow potato pieces to become fully coated.  Dump out contents of bag onto baking tray and put in 400 degree oven, and bake until tender (30 minutes or so).  For crispier fries, bake in a 425 degree oven and turn once while cooking.

This meal is made even better with an ice cold beer.  Or three.

Bon apetit!

There is this wagon...

and I've just jumped on it.  I've created a Cafe Press store to sell merchandise with the "UOY Y3H" coolness on it.  Check out deep duds.  Buy something and help send my kids to college.  Please.

Ahhh. The smell of Pine-Sol.

Mixed with a dash of furniture polish and a spritz of Windex, it's enough to bring tears to my eyes.  In a good way.  Today I feel like I've officially become an adult.  (Why, at 37 years old and a mother of two, I'm just now feeling like this is well beyond me.  But that's how I'm feeling, so there.)  I had my house cleaned for the very first time BY SOMEONE OTHER THAN ME.  I got a referral for a cleaning service from my friend, Kelly.  (Hi, Kel.)  My stove and microwave sparkle.  My toaster oven has been relieved of its build-up of crumbs.  My floors are so clean that the bottoms of our socks actually remained white(-ish) today.  I can see out my windows, and my collection of dust bunnies has left the building.  My stairs have been vacuumed for the first time in...in...well, in a long time. 

And these amazingly thorough and hard-working people come back again in two weeks.  I can get VERY used to this.

Mighty neighborly.

We live on a corner lot.  That means we have quite an expanse of public sidewalk and curb alongside our house.  That means that we get all manner of cars, boats, RVs and whatnot parked alongside our house, just below our master bedroom window.  I don't usually mind this, except when a neighbor has a party and drunken revelers return to their vehicles (which, as I mentioned, are parked RIGHT below our window), talking loudly and starting cars at 2:00 AM.

One of our neighbors up the street parks his boat and sometimes his RV, and sometimes both, along our curb now and then.  I actually prefer this to the cars and partiers, especially since this neighbors behemoth recreational vehicles take up so much precious curb space.  This neighbor has had construction going on at his house and first his boat and now his RV have been parked at the curb for over a month.  This neighbor, Dana, has already come by once and apologized for parking his stuff there, and the other night he dropped off a card and a box of chocolates for our troubles.

I don't know about where you live, but this type of neighborliness hasn't been seen by these eyes in a very long time.  I love it that he's aware of the fact that some folks wouldn't take too kindly to this kind of personal space encroachment (even though it is a public road and curb), and that he wanted to show his appreciation for our patience with him and his construction.  AND he brought chocolates.  I love this neighbor.

Mi curb es su curb, amigo.

UOY Y3H.

Saw this on a license plate today.  How freakin' cool is that?

(Don't get it?  Try looking at it in a mirror.)

Acchhhhthirtysevenchooooo. Excuse me.

Today is my birthday.  I'm 37 years old.  I mean young.  Young-ish. 

One of the undisputed advantages of scrapbooking and belonging to scrapbooking communities, like 2Peas, is that uber talented gals organize surprises in honor of other scrappers' birthdays and anniversaries and the like.  I was not spared this tradition today and I am at once surprised, honored, tickled pink and utterly flattered.  My darling friend, Christy, herself an uber talented scrapper, organized the lift-fest of my layouts in honor of my birthday.  She emailed a bunch (or would that be a pod?) of peas that my birthday was coming up and encouraged them to browse my gallery and lift one of my layouts and post their creations on my birthday.  How freakin' cool is that? 

Click here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here and here for a sampling of the wonderfulness of my 2Peas homettes.  I love each and every one of them.

Thanks!  You gals rock my world.

April?

Wow!  Can anyone explain to me how we've gotten to April already?  Huh?  It was just January a few minutes ago. 

Anyway, they tell me it's April, so that means it's time for my fourth submission of layouts to KMA as one of their Designer Girls.  I am constantly challenging myself to try new things as a design team member and step outside my rather high-walled box.  Like these 12 x 12 layouts.  Why am I loving this format so much more lately?  Does this mean that I need to buy more 12 x 12 Bazzill and scrapbooks?  Probably.  Oh, darn, I guess I might need to do some (more) shopping.

I've still got one more layout to do for this month, but here is the card and two layouts.  And don't forget to go to the KMA store to buy the latest and greatest in scrapbooking products.

One beautiful family.

Meet Aaryn, Sam, Ruby and Ella-the-dog.  I love these people. 

 

Sweet Jeanne.

I went to Costco this evening, just as it was starting to rain.  I filled up my gas tank and then headed over to do my shopping.  As I walked in and showed my card to the lady I asked her if she was staying warm and dry.  She said that she was but that the lady in the wheelchair just inside the door had been waiting for over two hours for a taxi.  I told her that if the taxi had still not come by the time I was done with my shopping that I would take her home. 

So, after shopping for 45 minutes and then paying, I noticed that the sweet little lady was still sitting there.  I swung by, letting her know that I would load up my car and be back around for her in a few minutes.  She had her cart full of groceries, her walker and two of the strong young people who fetch carts to help us get situated.  Then we headed out.

Sweet Jeanne is 89 years old.  She was born in Scottland and came to America in 1957, sponsored by her brother.  For fifteen months she and her husband ran a home for blind children.  Then for 23.5 years she worked for a family whose blind daughter is now a lawyer and a mother.  She seems sharp as a tack though not so able-bodied.  She has osteoporosis and osteoarthritis, and a few other things which I can't recall.  She looked so tiny in the passenger seat of my minivan.

She thought she'd head over to Costco this afternoon before the rain.  Then she got stuck there.  It broke my heart that she was sitting in a cold warehouse in a wheelchair for over two hours with no way to get home and no cell phone to call her husband who was by then probably beside himself with worry.  When I walked in and saw this little lady sitting there and heard what was going on, I couldn't stop myself from offering to take her home. 

Sweet Jeanne was embarrassed and felt guilty for being a burden.  I told her that was nonsense and that I was happy to help.  I declined all her generous offers of cash for my trouble, which I assured her was no trouble at all.  In fact, I probably would have willingly driven an hour out of my way with a car full of defrosting chicken nuggets and squished bread to give this sweet woman a ride.  I asked her instead to pray for my family.  Prayer is free and far more meaningful.

I think about my aging grandparents and I hope that someone will pay this favor for Jeanne forward, bestowing a random act of kindness on an elderly person.  Jeanne was sweet, kind and gracious, and even a little flattering.  Even though she called me an angel, tonight I'm calling her mine.

I think I'll leave some flowers on her doorstep tomorrow.