Bday Pics

Cora and a new buddy and some weird toddler we found.

                             A gift to hang on her bedroom wall, should she ever get a bedroom!

                         C and Great Gramma Nancy.  Can you see the Italian resemblance?

Party crasher.  We fed him cake and suckers and soda and then sent him home to his momma.                                            
                                                        Wait! That'd be me.  Sigh.

                                                                 C and her Papa.

Umm.  Yeah.  Party guests.  Never seen them before in my life.

Her.  Me.

Cora is eleven

My little babycakes is eleven today.  I will save you all the whining, sobbing, and melodramatic antics that I usually perform on these birthdays and just say,

Happy birthday, little girl of mine.


You're spunky, fearless, argumentative, ornery, smart, not graceful, sassy, snuggly, loyal, fierce, hungry, silly, funny, huggable, ridiculous, loving.


Give me back my shoes and stop getting taller immediately.


Thank you.


And have fun fishing today.  I wuv you. 

Memoirs of a Idaho Girl

I was driving in Boise today, cruising down the Flying Y, mentally pointing out sites to myself.  I've lived in a few places, a smattering of towns, a handful of states, but I think Boise will always feel like home to me.  This is where I got my first "real" job, at the age of 16 as a waitress at Mariott Catering at Boise State University.  I was a total country, small town girl, who was so naive about life that when a college boy asked her out, she completely panicked and used to hide behind the coffee urns when she saw him coming.  He sported a mullet and because I wasn't even sure what he was asking, I accidentally said yes.  My boss, who thought I was adorably innocent, was looking out for me and used to yell at him,  'she's sixteen, you idiot!'  I managed to avoid him until he cornered me in a stairwell one day and then I nervously "dumped him."  He probably thought I was a big flirt.  I drove a two toned beat up Subaru that you could hear coming several blocks away, and I spent all my free time - when I wasn't dancing, rehearsing, or working - at coffee shops with my teenage friends.  There was Molly, my free spirited bohemian friend who had talent oozing out of her ears (she now lives in Paris), Sarah, my fellow homeschooled friend who always made me laugh because she cried at every movie she ever saw, Jenevieve, my other homeschooled friend who would drive my car for me while I braided my hair and put on makeup, Kelli, who looked younger than all of us but was actually in her twenties (which was soooooo extremely old at the time), Naomi, our wise friend who never steered us wrong.  It was a fun group.  Brittani was out of our league because she was actually a company dancer while we were lowly apprentices, but I always loved her because she knew all our names and didn't get all snooty with us like the other soloists did.  I still am annoyed at a certain company dancer who taught a rehearsal one day when the ballet professor was out and she burst out laughing when someone said my name and she said, 'Oh my gosh!  How do you even know those kids names?'  Ummm, I don't know, we only spend 25 hours a week in the same tiny dance studio together...I only shadow your every step as your understudy, step in for you when you're sick....  I think I have issues letting go.

I met a whole other group of friends when I turned eighteen/nineteen.  I met Mike that year and fell in love (awwww!).  I started working at dance studios and Moxie Java.  My sister moved away to join the Sacramento Ballet.  We planned a wedding.

We lived in numerous apartments/duplexes/houses.  We went by our foreclosed home this week and took out the fridge and the curtains.  That was bittersweet.  I liked that house, no matter how many times y'all had to point out how it faced the wrong direction and had a bright blue roof and was in a crime ridden neighborhood!  Any old house can face the correct direction!  And what's wrong with blue?  It makes an excellent marker if you are lost!  And ... there may in fact have been quite a bit of crime.

It may be shallow, but I get a little thrill knowing I am back in the land of Ross, Grocery Outlets, Wincos, and the best thrift shops.

I know all the streets and I know how to get around.  I still run into people I know.  This post isn't funny or deep or anything interesting unless you're me.  But I am feeling sentimental and nostalgic today.  Indulge me.  Eventually, I'll get back to myself.  First I have to quit replaying the last month over and over in my head, and dreaming at night of things that happened in Michigan.  Trying not to regret ever going there, and yet if we didn't, we'd still be in Boise, dreaming of things that we want to do...it may not have turned out the way I wanted, but at least we DID it.  Now it's time to put down roots somewhere and dig ourselves a nice little rut.  Give my kids somewhere to build their own memories and friends to think about when they are 33.  I wonder what they will remember in twenty years?

Classifieds - Employment

Employment opportunities:

Opera singing/tractor driving/German and Italian speaking/preacher/pharmaceutical sales rep/technological genius/romantic/collector of useless trivia/pyromaniac/football coach/guitar player/never-been-beat arm wrestler looking for work.  College graduate ($30,000 in Musical Performance degree student loan bills can be provided as proof upon request).  Cooks Italian food.  May or may not have mafia ties...forgettaboutit!  Can name any Star Trek episode within five seconds of stopping on that particular channel.  Easily memorizes movie quotes and '80s song lyrics.  Able to play any song on the guitar, providing there are no more than four chords.  Expert campfire starter.  Not opposed to jazz hands if the occasion calls for it.  Does impressions.  Will work for food.  And board.  Comes with wife (see below), three children, and a dog.  




Ballerina/barista/child birther/home chef/bibliophile/seamstress/writer looking for work.  Homeschool graduate (if she can find Mom's handmade diploma) '96.  Attended Boise State University as a non-degree seeking student for four years because she was too dimwitted to realize she'd be there for four years and therefore could have gotten a degree for all her hard work.  Makes excellent espresso drinks.  In fact, they could probably make you cry, they're that sublime.  Able to French braid small girl's hair in record time and with excellent results.  Impeccable chauffeuring record.  Has successfully potty trained three humans, unless you count the unfortunate episode yesterday where there may or may not have been human fecal substances in Aunt Lary's flowers.  Ahem.  Fierce book collector/rearranger.  Completely useless in any field that may involve a number of any kind.  Knows Pilates, but proof of that knowledge may involve gasping desperately for oxygen.  Expert shopper.  Blogs in a witty manner that will ultimately cause you to fire her posthaste.  Would prefer employment in used bookstore vineyard if possible.  Doesn't know a Cab Sav from a Sangiovese but would really enjoy learning.  Needs time off frequently for snuggles with children, kisses with husband, pasta with friends, and antique books that beg to be read.  Comes with one spouse (see above), three children, and a dog.  Dog does all his own stunts.  




Contact below for immediate interviews.  

Bread

I was browsing through recipes and food blogs today, looking for a new and breathtakingly exciting way to prepare a yard bird, while my bread was baking.  I thought, hey, self!  I should share my bread recipe with YOU.  The reason this is a fun recipe is because you can add all sorts of extra things to change it up.  It's my go-to pizza crust recipe as well.  And there is nothing better in the whole wide world than homemade pizza.  Seriously.  Makes my heart go pit-a-pat.  Here's the basic idea, folks:

2 Cups of bath temp water
1 Tablespoon of yeast
Sugar and salt.  It depends on whether you're going for savory or sweet, but go for more, not less.  Example:  for a savory bread, use about 2 Tablespoons of sugar and a big tablespoon of salt.  For a sweet bread, add more sugar.  You could also use honey, even better flavor.
A nice splash of oil, or a spoon of butter or shortening.  Whatever floats your boat.

Let that sit in the mixer for a few minutes.  It will get a bit frothy.  This is good.

Then, start adding in flour.  If you are health conscience, use whole wheat.  If you are budget conscience, use white.  Or use both.  Or go nuts, and use spelt!  Or some graham!  Or some oatmeal!  Mmm, oatmeal bread.

Now comes the fun part:

Mix-ins!

It's like an ice cream shop.

Ideas:
tons of cinnamon and raisins

orange peel and o.j. and dried cranberries

nuts

chedder and jalapenos and garlic salt

apples

After kneading in enough flour to make it all come together smoothly (not dry, not sticky), cover it with the same towel you used to dry your clean hands, and stick it in a warm oven.  It will double in size after about an hour.  Plop that sucker on the floured counter and let it sit for a moment, meditating on becoming bread.  Knead.  Get out some aggression.  Shape into two loafs.  Let it rise again, but this time only for about a half hour.  This is the juncture where I sometimes go wrong.  If you let it rise too long the second time, it kinda gets deflated and hollow in places.  Turn up the warm oven (I usually have it on the lowest setting possible) to 375 and bake until all golden brown.  Don't ask me how long this takes.  I just stay nearby.

Slice and eat with butter.

Forget about dinner.  Who needs it?

The world needs more butter sandwiches.

Williams chitlins

This is my first born...

she's spunky.

Fearless.

Tough.  Except when she's not, and those times I don't know what to do with her.  I'm frightened for the teen years because she may throw me for a loop once those hormones kick in.

She borrows my shoes.

She reads incredibly fast.  Like her mama, and her mama before her.  Her favorite books are by Jonathan Rand who is from Michigan and writes the Michigan Chiller books (they're like R.L. Stein for those of us '80s children).  She wrote to him and he wrote back and now the letter (a personal one no less; you rock, Mr Rand!) is on her bedroom wall.

Also on her wall:  swimming ribbons.

She refuses to admit she's best friends with Schroeder because after all, he's a boy, and boys have cooties and all that jazz.  But when they forget that and just have fun together and she manages to go ten minutes without smacking him upside the head, it's sweet.

She gets embarrassed but she doesn't let that stop her from doing anything.  I love that about her the most.


This is my middler:

She's ridiculously photogenic.  She could make the silliest face and the camera still loves her.


She is messy.


Goofy.


Well mannered.  Most of the time.


Doesn't like trying new things, especially of the edible type.


Likes me to read aloud to her.  We've been on an Avi phase.


She means a lot to a lot of people.  I love how she's so many girls best friend.


She wants a camera.  And a cat.


Please do not mail her a cat.


She is very vertically challenged.  




This is my baby:

He told me just this morning, hey, lady, wanna buy two tickets to the gun shoe?  And then he showed off his muscles.


He's ridiculous.


He also asked me this morning, how are your feelings, Mom?


I don't know exactly what he meant by that.  But my feelings are mooshy and full of wuv, little man, thank you for asking.


He likes football and basketball and soccer and all things involving a ball.  But he'd prefer a gun. 


He wears a Lone Ranger mask frequently.


He doesn't like to bathe.  He prefers to be covered in a thin layer of grime, dirt, dust, sand, rocks, stickiness, and frog juice.


He has no fear.




Photos courtesy of my sis' pal, Kim.  If you need a photographer in the Idaho area, let me know, I'll hook you up.  She is talented and full of creative ideas.  She also took the one of my hunk and I smooching on my little profile area to your right.   And yes, Gramma, these particular ones are coming in your birthday box I mailed just today.

What To Do In Daze Of Time-Off

Four days a month, we house parents get "time-off."  This means you pack up any belongings you find necessary (coffee, books, suntan lotion, chocolate bars) and any and all small children you may have birthed yourself (one without drugs, thankyouverymuchcanIgetanamen?) and GET LOST.  Us being the lone wolves we are and being so very far away from the people who are related to us, whether in blood or in spirit, we only get lost as far as across the driveway, to the little cottage we lived in a for a few weeks when we first moved here.  We rent movies and check out lots of books and eat whatever we please without having to submit our menus to the state of Michigan so that they can see we do indeed eat a well balanced diet.  We spend time with the mini-Williams who don't have to share their parents with anyone, and scratch Milo behind the ears more often, and hold up the laptop next to the window in the hopes that we can get enough of a signal to have the internet.  Here are the other things we do:


1.  Eat cheeses, French bread, salami, and apples for supper.  Gianni said and I quote,  'This was the best dinner of my life!'


2.  Mike conquers the world in Civilization.


3.  I blog.


4.  The kids watch Gnomeo and Juliet.  Fourteen times.


5.  We eat chocolate donuts dunked in tea.


6.  I realize all three books I brought were from the YA section.  I think I'm having a midlife crisis.  I'm just thrilled there is nary a vampire in any of them.  So far.


7.  Talk with that guy I married over a dozen years ago and actually get to finish a sentence.  


8.  Send the kids out to catch turtles and frogs.


9.  Go find new parks to visit.


10.  Go stroll downtown with Anna, who is my antiquing partner.


11.  Hit the farmers market for the first time this year!


12.  Go to dinner at a friend's house and watch O Brother Where Art Thou?


13.  Rent more movies.  Suggestions, anyone?  I just got Red, because I have a fondness for Brucie.  Also want to look for Waiting for Superman.


14.  Ride bikes to this country cemetery we recently found.  I have strangeness in my blood and so do my kids.  We love cemeteries.  We race around trying to find the oldest tombstone and make up stories for all the deceased.  We look for names the same as ours for shivers-up-our-spines moments and everyone politely waits while I cry over any and all children's tombstones.  Told you I was strange.


15.  Smoosh bugs with shoes.  I bought a twin pack of fly swatters but Schroeder and Moose used them immediately as light sabors and destroyed them in five minutes flat.  We get these crazy box elder bug invasions in the summer.  Plus, the skeeters are getting fierce; poor Cora's legs look like she was chomped halfway to the bone and left for dead.


That is all for now...I must drink more coffee and finish The Hunger Games...