I Don't Speak Scout

It was a big night at Pack Meeting.

Cameron was receiving his Arrow of Light Award.

It's the highest honor a Cub Scout can receive.

I know this, because other people told me.

I'm not really a scouty kind of Mom.

We have a guy in our ward who does an amazing Arrow of Light Ceremony.

Phil gathers all the scouts around the "fire" and shows them this really cool arrow with all these colored beads and feathers. Each color represents a value and character trait and he talks to the boys about how they can incorporate them into their lives. He wears a very cool head dress kind of thing. He's the ultimate Mountain Man.

Phil is a scouty kind of Dad.

All the boys receive their very own Arrow. Of Light.

They can't take their eyes off their arrows.

Thanks Phil!

Cameron with Cori - his awesome Webelos leader.

He's getting this because of her.

Thanks Cori!

These boys sure can earn a lot of badges and strings with beads on them and such.

And pins! Check out all the pins!

Cameron has all those fancy things too.

We just keep them on a shelf in his bedroom so they stay...uh...not on his shirt.

Did I mention that I'm not really a scouty kind of Mom?

Sorry Cam. I'm proud of you.

Love, Mom

For Adults Only - Grown-Up Stuff Revealed

It's not that I'm thinking that some of you are gathering your children and reading my little blog together, though it could happen. I'm always calling my boys to the computer to check out something of interest over on Pioneer Woman's ranch. I'm just saying, make sure the kiddies are in the other room - I don't want to be the one giving them this adult information.

Today's topic is...

Santa.

Well what did you think it was about? Sheesh.

I don't remember anything terribly remarkable about when I "found out", - though it was a surprise. I wasn't so old that I had my own inklings of what the truth was. I wasn't scarred or angry, and I didn't discover my parents putting out gifts or anything like that. I think the information was just passed on very matter-of-factly by my parents. I accepted that little turn of events and went on with my life. No big deal.

So why has it seemed like such a big deal to let my own kids know what's really going down on Christmas Eve?

For starters, we've done the whole Santa thing wrong. Santa brings the majority of the gifts, the coolest gifts, the gifts that we told the boys we couldn't afford. Santa has been responsible for all the fabulous Christmas mornings. If I had to do it again, I would have Santa bring one gift and have the kids know that the rest came from Mom and Dad. Face it, I want at least some of the credit. Plus, the kids thought that Santa, in his magical glory, could bring anything, resulting in wish lists that were endless.

Now don't get me wrong, I have loved watching my kids suck up the magic of Santa Claus. We've taken them to sit on his lap for pictures, set out the cookies and milk, bought real carrots for the reindeer (as opposed to the carved baby carrot things that I usually buy), and done all we could to perpetuate their belief in Kris Kringle. I've also threatened to "call Santa and just let him know" how the boys have been acting.

I've nurtured this belief, the idea of Santa. I've made him as real as possible. How do you take that away?


Actually, Cameron is (finally) among the non-believers. He's almost 11, so it's about time. Two years ago, when most of his friends and classmates were having reality Christmases, Cam was still steadfast in his beliefs. And who could blame him - Santa had been bringing a major haul for as long as he could remember - I'd keep believing too. It was around this time that I was feeling like my kids were just a touch on the greedy side, and I was wanting to be done with Santa - at least with Cameron.

We were in the toy section at Walmart, and Cameron looked around and commented that everything he had put on his list for Santa could be bought right there. The whole busy elf scenario flickered through his brain.

I got down on his level, gently gripped his shoulders and said,

"Think about it, Cameron."

But he chose not to, and instead, kept right on believing. Aaarrrghh.

His true moment of clarity came a few months ago when he saw me cleaning out my dresser drawer. There, sitting on my bed, was a small pile of teeth that supposedly had been collected by the Tooth Fairy. Cameron looked at the teeth, looked at me, grinned from ear to ear, and said,

"You little liar. You. Little. Liar!"

We laughed together, hugged a bit, and then I asked,

"So if the Tooth Fairy isn't real...can you think of somebody else that isn't real?" I was trying to be very clear.

"Santa?" he said, still grinning.

And then he admitted that he'd been pretty sure Santa wasn't real for a while. How long had he been on to us? I swore him to secrecy as far as Aaron was concerned and he was all for that. His only two questions were if he could help lay out the gifts, and (of course) would he still get the same number of presents. Yes. Yes.

So for this year at least, Aaron remains a believer. Cameron is wickedly pleased to be in on this adult knowledge. Everyone's happy.

How did you find out about Santa?
How did you tell your kids?

Shopping with Edward

During the summer, I'm a flip flop girl. I like the on and off ease, the fun colors, the pricetag, everything. I paint my toenails, shave nearly every day, rub on the self-tanner, and generally try to pretend that I have cute feet and legs that should be seen. I ignore the reasons why I should lay off the flip flops and just try to look summery and breezy and carefree in my footwear. Flip flops do that. Avia Crosstrainers, size 7, wide width - so the orthotics fit and my toes won't feel pinched - do not.

But now that Fall/Winter is here, I'm going back to wearing the Avias every day, all day. It's better for my feet - all the right kind of support and orthotic-y goodness - but I just can't get over the color. They're white and blue, perfect for the gym, but they just don't look right with my clothes. Most of what I wear from September through April begins with a pair of dark blue jeans. Pair that with a dark top, even something casual, and those bright white tennis shoes really mess up the whole "look" of the outfit.

I had a couple pairs of super cheap shoes in the back of my closet - black and brown. I tried wearing those, and while they looked much better than the big whites, I could tell from the minute I put them on that I was hurting my feet.

And yes, I have made the connection between my closet filled with super cheap shoes from Payless and Walmart and my flip flops from Old Navy and the misery that is my feet. I'm trying to do better. My philosophy used to be: as many cute shoes for as little money possible. Now I just need something that won't hurt me. Sidenote: I probably need to get another shot between my toes soon. I will document and report back.

I watch Dancing With The Stars, and my second thought is "how can they wear those shoes? Aren't they in agony?". My first thought is "how are those clothes staying on?". Seriously, it's mezmerizing. Especially her.

Okay, back to my feet.

So I'm complaining to Troy about how I just can't look cute when I have to wear athletic shoes when I'm not being athletic. So guess what he did? He took me shopping!

It was my own little Pretty Woman experience. I was Vivian (only not) and he was Edward (only not), taking me to the fancy store to shop and spend an obscene amount of money (really not). But still. A girl can dream.

He took me to Famous Footwear (right next to Payless, the culprit behind my foot problems), sat me down on a bench and brought me shoes to try on! Lots and lots of shoes - all in blacks and browns - nice colors to go with nice Fall/Winter clothes. He admired and complimented as I paraded up and down the aisle, walking it out, getting a feel for them, trying to find the perfect shoes for my needy feet. He didn't complain about me wanting to try on at least twenty pairs, and he wrapped and put back the ones that just wouldn't do. And when it came down to choosing between a black pair and a brown pair - he simply looked into my eyes and said what every girl dreams of hearing:

"We'll just get both."

My Payless mind was horrified, but my feet rejoiced. At least it was buy one, get one 1/2 off.

Wanna see?

Now I'm not saying these are super high fashion, fancy, ultra-hip and cool shoes. Just saying it was my Vivian moment. And Vivian has never had herself a pair of New Balance shoes for casual wear, and she's sure never had a pair of Skechers before.

Her kids have, but she hasn't.

These are just some basic black everyday kind of shoes. That don't hurt me.

And then the Skechers. I love these.

They have the tiniest bit of heel to make me a little taller, a good sturdy sole, and they are a wonderful shade of brown to go with 50% of my wardrobe. The black ones will take care of the other 50%. They look so cute peeking out from the bottom of my bootcut jeans.

The next day, I was walking around the house in my perfect, new, comfortable, brown Skechers (who's got the Skechers now, boys? Your Momma, that's who!), and this is what Troy says to me.

"I was surprised that you got those since they look so chunky on your feet."

Huh? Edward never would have said that to Vivian. It's like saying

"I can't believe you chose those jeans since they make your butt look humongous."

or

"I wouldn't have imagined you choosing that haircut since it makes your face look like a pumpkin."

I told him I was going for the chunky look. Chunky is hot.

And comfortable.

What are your feelings about footwear?

Movie Quote Monday #9

Good Morning!


Starting off with a quote about vomit and miracles.



"One time, I was at this party... and I was sitting on the couch with Amanda McKinney. She was just sitting there, looking beautiful. So, I lean in to kiss her, and I realize I have gum in my mouth. So, I turn to spit it out and put it in a paper cup. I turn back, and Amanda McKinney throws up all over herself. I knew the moment it happened, it was a miracle. I could have been kissing her when she threw up. It would have scarred me for life. I may never have recovered."


Go.

Oh...and who said it? Don't you think he's pretty darn cute?

Start Your Week Off Right - Play the Movie Quote Game That's Sweeping the Internet!

Remember Movie Quote Monday, starting at 8am.

Hope to see you there...and if you've been lurking, come and play.

I'm so excited for my opening quote. I thought of the movie yesterday, and couldn't believe that I hadn't used it before. The movie is scary, a little bit funny and heart wrenching in places, and stars two very cute men. It's also very thought-provoking on a religious level.

See you in the morning.

Clean Out Your Pockets!

Question for you.

If a child (And really, he's not a child so much anymore. The boy is almost eleven.) puts something in his pants pocket to use throughout the day, shouldn't he also be able to remove that something from the pocket before tossing the pants into the dirty clothes? Hmmmm?

Yeah, I thought so too.

The cold, windy weather has descended on us and Cameron, being the lip licker that he is, has some chapped lips. He put some lip stuff in his pocket and then never took it out.

This is what I pulled out of the washer -- the lid is gone and so is all the stuff inside.

I presume that the stuff is melted and distributed nicely throughout the entire load of laundry.

If you see greasy looking marks on our clothing, this is why. It's not french fries, it's lip stuff.

So I'm all,

"Dude! You didn't take your lip stuff out of your pants!"

And he's all,

"You're supposed to check all the pockets before you wash anything."

And then I'm all,

"Oh no you di'n't just say that!"

I think some fire shot out of my eyes. Arms definitely flailed in exasperation and indignation.

So he's all,

"Sorry..."

Finding dollar bills in the wash is great. I've also gathered rocks, Hot Wheels, a pocket knife, and many coins. Crud, maybe it is my job. But lip stuff? Greasy, stainy lip stuff?

Please!

What's the worst thing you've pulled out of the laundry?

What Are You Bringing?

Happy Day Before Thanksgiving!

Wanna know a secret?
I am 39 years old, and I've never had to make an entire Thanksgiving dinner for a big group of people. Pretty cool, huh?

My wonderful Mom is alive and kicking, planning and inviting, cooking and baking. Truly something to be thankful for. Mom puts on a fantastic Thanksgiving feast - all the delicious food, the rolls, the pies, everything homemade.

Oh. Except the stuffing. The stuffing isn't homemade. I wonder why not. Maybe the family took a vote and decided that Stove Top (with a few added things, like pecans) was good enough. Maybe not enough people like the stuffing to go to the trouble of making it from scratch. Oh well. The stuffing isn't the real draw of the day, food wise.

The pies are. My Mom is pretty much the best pie maker in the world. I think my Dad decided to marry her after eating one of her pies. Flaky, homemade pastry crust, fluted edges (because appearance counts), and filled with all kinds of rich, satisfying delights. This year she's making :
pecan - my favorite
banana cream - my nephew's favorite
pumpkin - well, it is Thanksgiving after all,
cherry - my Dad's favorite, and
apple - another all around favorite.

We could call it Pie Day. I can't wait.

The whole family is going to be at dinner this year, and of course we all contribute and help out. We (the daughters and daughters-in-law) handle the side dishes and my Mom stays in charge of the turkey, the rolls and the pies. Dad likes my Mom to be the one making the pies.

For the past forever, the dish that I've been assigned, is the yams. It's a lowly dish, not even well liked by very many, but it's tradition and it adds some very pretty, bright color to the plate. So we continue to have it every year.

I happen to like the yams, and my Mom does too, but a lot of people simply find them "okay" , and don't want to waste valuable stomach space on them. Did I really just write "valuable stomach space"? Do other people think like this, or just my family?

I know I'm putting this up too late for anyone to try it out this year, but I'll do it anyway. This is what I'm bringing to the Thanksgiving Pie Day dinner:

************************************************
Apples and Yams
(a beloved family recipe that no one makes room for - even though it's delicious. And colorful)

Big pile of yams/or 1 can of yams
2/3 cup white sugar
1 Tbs. cornstarch
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. orange peel
1 C. orange juice
2 Tbs. butter
apples - Golden Delicious are perfect for this

If you're starting out with the raw yams, cut them in half and partially cook them in boiling water - maybe 20 minutes -so you can peel the skin off easily and cut them into thick slices. At least 1/2 thick. Lay the slices in a 9x13 baking dish. Or...just drain the can and dump it in the dish.

In a sauce pan, combine the sugar, cornstarch, salt,and orange peel. Add the OJ and the butter and cook until it thickens and boils. Or boils and thickens. Just make sure that both of these happen.

Peel and slice the apples and lay those down among the yams. No real amount is specified - just do whatever might get eaten.

Pour the orange juice sauce over the apples and yams and bake at 350 degrees until everything is nice and tender, about an hour. Whole lot less if you use the canned yams.

It really is delicious - not too sweet, and the orange sauce goes perfectly with it. It's a wonderful side dish - colorful, healthy, and it's great to have the next day, since no one will eat it during the actual dinner. Sigh.

I may even like these more than the mashed potatoes and gravy. Can't say that to Troy though - such a statement would be considered blasphemous to his mighty mashed potato soul.

****************************************************

Hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving and can be with the ones you love. And...

What is your favorite part of the meal?

Calling It A Slumber Party Just Isn't Very Accurate

It's more like a Wide Awake and Laughing So Hard You Might Pee Your Pants Party.

We had the best time. So much laughing, so much eating, so much talking...so little sleep. So worth it.

We had Marsha and Cori...

Janet and Susan...

And me...and Janet again.

Everyone wanted to be by Janet.

Waiter-Man took this picture. I asked him to get a close up, but whatever.

And just because we ate dinner at the restaurant doesn't mean that we aren't going to be eating again.

We changed into our jammies and
got this party started.

Oh stop...STOP!!!

Seriously...she's just too much!

Singing to (swear I'm not making this up) You Light Up My Life by Debbie Boone. Who needs a hairbrush to sing into - we've got water bottles. It's 2007, baby. That song is 30 years old - we knew every single word.

Janet practicing the dance moves to Vogue.

What is she doing???? I'll never tell.

Marsha knows. Bet she won't tell either.

Finally we started feeling a little sleepy. Happy...but sleepy. It was 6am.

We were having so much fun, we didn't want to split up into the bedrooms. We spread out our sleeping bags and pillows, laid down on the floor and remembered "Oh yeah...we're older. Older people need beds. Soft beds."

We finally went to bed around 7am, slept for a few hours, then sat around on the deck in the sunshine (yay for beautiful Fall weather!), drinking our morning Diet Coke and eating tortilla chips and Mexican dip. Still in our jammies. More talking and laughing.

A bee flew over to join the party and ruined my Diet Coke. Stupid bee.

Here's to us - to friendships, to laughter, to giving ourselves this weekend away.

Spice Girls? They've got nothing on us.

Thanks ladies - you rock!!!

Movie Quote Monday #8

Good Morning!!


I enjoy this movie for the love story and the accents. Troy loves it for the action.


These are the first lines of the movie, spoken by a narrator. Say it outloud with a Scottish accent.


"I shall tell you of ******* *******. Historians from England will say I am a liar, but history is written by those who have hanged heroes. The king of Scotland had died without a son, and the king of England, a cruel pagan known as Edward the Longshanks, claimed the throne of Scotland for himself. Scotland's nobles fought him, and fought each other, over the crown. So Longshanks invited them to talks of truce - no weapons, one page only. Among the farmers of that shire was Malcolm Wallace, a commoner with his own lands; he had two sons, John and *******. "

Go.

Come and Play!

I'm back from my weekend! Pictures and details coming on Tuesday, I promise.

Come back tomorrow and play Movie Quote Monday. I'll post the starting quote at 8am.

I've gotta catch up on some sleep!

I'm so Excited, I Don't Even Care If They Freeze My Bra.

I woke up this morning feeling giddy.

I'm having a slumber party tonight!

Did you have slumber parties when you were growing up? My friend Valerie and I were always sleeping over at each other's homes. I liked going over to her house the most - she had a trampoline, cool older sisters, and her Mom made German pancakes for breakfast.

I don't remember a whole lot of sleeping. We'd stay up late, talking and eating peanut M&Ms and Cheeto Balls. Oh, and dancing in the living room. There was a lot of dancing. And make-up and hair, and talking about the boys we loved and who said hi to us in 3rd period, and wishing that we could both be Jessie's Girl. We had some great slumber parties.

So here I am, let's say, twenty-five years older, and I could not be more excited about my little girl's weekend. There are five of us married ladies, 14 kids between us, innumerable loads of laundry, and busy, busy lives - and we've somehow managed to plan a weekend away from it all.

One of the ladies stopped by my house earlier today and we were talking about how thrilling it was to be doing this.

"You'd think we were going away for 10 days on a cruise or something," she said.

We giggled at the thought.

Women just need to get away with the girlfriends. I hope there will be dancing.

Thanks to all the husbands and kids who kissed us goodbye, and to my parents for having an awesome vacation home that they let us use.

We'll get to those dishes and laundry when we get back.

Promise.

Have you ever had an escape with your friends?

Feeding Thousands

Okay, not really. Not thousands. But a couple hundred at least.

Last Saturday night was our ward Thanksgiving dinner, and with my new position in the ward, I was involved from the get go.

The involvement part was a little new to me. As a general rule, I don't attend ward activities. Sorry. I don't go to enrichment meetings or dinners or ward functions. Again, sorry.

If I'm in Primary, I'm all over the Sacrament Meeting program and Primary activities. When I'm in the Young Women's program, I'm there every Sunday and at the majority of the activities. I tend to hunker down in the organization that I'm called to and give it my all. You can count on me.

But as for the whole ward stuff, I've kind of avoided it like the plague shied away from it for quite a few years.

So that's changing, right here, right now.

Got myself a new calling - I'm on the Activities Committee!

In 19 years of adulthood and holding callings, this is a first for me. I've been a teacher in Relief Society, a Primary teacher (many times), a Young Women's Advisor (many times), Primary and Young Women's Prez., a nursery leader, and a counselor in both RS and YW. Been there, done that.

But Activities Committee? I have to admit that my jaw dropped a little when I was asked to serve there. I may have even leaned forward and whispered,

"But I don't go to ward activities."

Hmmmmm. I guess I will now. They figured out a way to get me there.

Truth be told, I wasn't ready to leave the Young Women. I have loved every minute of the past 2 1/2 years. Loved the girls, loved the other leaders, loved going_to_camp, everything. Change is hard.

So back to the AC. We started having planning meetings right away - we had to orchestrate a Thanksgiving dinner for 300 people in less than two weeks. It was crunch time.

The committee was awesome. There's about 8 of us. Crunch time is actually kind of fun when you're all doing it together. We split up the big stuff like food purchasing, decorations, the Giving Tree (our version of an angel tree), and set up, and then sent out sign up sheets for the actual cooking of the food. TaDa! Ward party!

When Troy and I arrived at the church to start the decorating, the tables and chairs were already set up for us. The Giving Tree was being assembled and a few people were in the kitchen slicing turkeys and getting food into giant roaster ovens to stay hot. We had 30 banquet tables to get ready - salt and pepper, water, silverware, dressing, butter, cranberry sauce, etc. It was crazy-busy. (and kind of fun)

My friend showed up with her kids and they helped decorate. They're not on the committee. Another guy came with his 12 year old daughter and she helped with all sorts of things while he carved meat. Not on the committee. The couple in the kitchen, doing all kinds of cooking - not on the committee. This was a Saturday afternoon and they didn't have to be there! But they were.

When things really started getting going and the food was being plated, we had many non-committee people pitching in. A few women left their husbands with the kids while they dished up plates for a couple hundred. Left their husbands with the kids, hehehehe. The Young Men and Young Women did all the serving.

I don't even know who cleared the tables, took out the garbage and put all the chairs and tables away. The kitchen clean up was done by people who could've left as soon as their pie was gone. Instead, they stayed and did an outrageous amount of dishes.

And I mean, out-rageous.

This huge dinner, this ward event, wasn't put on and accomplished by just the Activities Committee. It was pulled off by the whole ward. I was amazed. And humbled.

I so want to tell the names of all these wonderful people - the actual committee members and especially all of the people who came and helped out even when they didn't have to - but I'm worried that I would forget someone. I certainly didn't see it all...but everything got done.

It was a good feeling - to help out, to be in the thick of things, to serve others and see the ward come together in a wonderful way. I kind of liked it.

Maybe this ward activity thing isn't so bad.

What Time Is It, Really?

I don't remember how old I was when I got my own clock radio. Probably 10 or 11. But I do know that even from the beginning, I liked to be on time. In an effort to insure that I was never ever late, I would set the clock in my bedroom ahead by at least 10 minutes. Like I was fooling myself. Like my 6am self wouldn't remember that my 10pm self had messed with the time.

Whatever.

I still play this little "trick" in the bedroom. Both my clock and Troy's clock are set exactly 20 minutes fast. Keep reading, and hopefully I can explain this mess.

My alarm clock has a snooze setting of nine minutes. That means that I can snooze two times, and still be two minutes ahead of reality. I love to hit the snooze button. My arm shoots out and slams the button so fast - not even enough time to identify the song. I "sleep" for 9 more minutes, hit the snooze again, "sleep" for 9, and then I get up.

Here's the insane part: The whole time that I'm in the snooze/sleep pattern, my brain isn't really going back to sleep. It's doing the math. Math! I mentally acknowledge the 20 minute difference, and so on, as if it's a comfort to know that it's really only 5am instead of 5:20. I'm cheating myself out of 20 minutes of good sleep. Why do I do this to myself?

A few months ago, I noticed that Cameron had set his clock ahead by 11 minutes. Why, I asked.

"I don't know. I just do."

Yeah, me too. I guess this kind of crazy is easily passed on.

Aaron's clock is fast too, though I think his is more from random button pushing. When I noticed that he was getting up a few minutes earlier than before, I did the most scheming thing a Mom can do. I changed all the clocks in the kitchen. Bwwwwwahahahaha. Five minutes fast.

These are the clocks that Aaron looks at while he's gearing up to go to school. He knows the last possible minute that we can leave to get him to school on time, and he waits for it every day. Again, bwwwwwahahahaha. He's early, and he doesn't even know it. Troy and Cam know, though I've sworn them to secrecy. I wish Troy didn't know.

But it doesn't end there. The clocks in my car and Troy's truck are both three minutes fast. The clock in the front room matches the ones in the kitchen, in case Aaron happens to see the discrepancy. The clock on my laptop is 4 minutes slow. I need to change that, 'cause slow just isn't acceptable. Gotta make it fast. Troy's cell phone is 2 minutes ahead.

All these clocks, so different, and we're fooling no one. Little bit of math and we've got the real time. Okay, Aaron is fooled, but, shhhhhhhh.

Why do we do this?

It's my hope that all this mental time warping and refiguring will be the key to keeping our brains alert and active. Kind of an anti-Alzheimer's thing. What do you think?

Clever trick or crazy?
(And please tell me that you do this too.)

Movie Quote Monday #7

Thought I'd start off the morning with a quote, custom chosen for Pinklady. If you read her blog at all, you know that her favorite actor of all time says the following:



"Look Charles, I gotta do this. If I don't, I'll be nothing. I'll end up like my neighbor Ricky Smith. He just sits around crocheting all day and snorting nasal spray. "



Go.

See You Tomorrow

Make sure and come back tomorrow for the movie quotes!

And Pinklady...you'll want to be early, hehehe.

Have a Little Zuppa

A couple decades ago, my first choice for lunch with my girlfriends was always Olive Garden. I usually ordered the Soup, Salad & Breadsticks. I think it cost about $5. So cheap and so all-you-can-eat.

You had a choice of three different kinds of soup - a Minestrone, the Pasta e Fagioli, and the Zuppa Toscana. The first bowl that they brought out was filled with a healthy portion of the soup, and all the subsequent bowls were slightly smaller. And you could switch soups in the middle of the meal. I mainly stuck with the Minestrone and the Pasta e Fagioli - the Toscana with the sausage and potato sounded, well, odd.

It was a great meal - all that soup, plus the yummy salad and breadsticks. Aaahh, the breadsticks. I would dip them in the rich, tomato-y broth and then order more. After Troy came along, he showed me an even better way. He'd ask for a dish of Alfredo sauce and that's what we'd dip our breadsticks in. Alfredo sauce! Can you imagine? Mmmmmm.

Finally, during one visit to the Olive Garden, the waitress convinced me to branch out of my tomato-broth soup rut and "just try" the Zuppa Toscana. She gave me her word, it was the best soup they had.

She was right.

I'd never get another kind of soup there again.

This stuff is deee-licious. It's a thin, creamy broth, with chunks of potatoes, skin on, spicy sausage, and kale. Yeah, I'd never had kale either, but don't be afraid...it's fine. It's slightly crunchy, like the skins left on the potatoes, and it makes the soup beautiful. The hot Italian sausage is perfect with the mild potatoes, and the broth is light and smooth. Have I convinced you yet?

Then a few years ago, someone at church passed around a copy of "Toscana Soup". The recipe is spot-on for copying Olive Garden's Zuppa Toscana. I make it for my family, and they all love it - even the picky one.

I whipped up a big pot of it today and thought of you. Make some soon and totally impress the ones you love. It's that good.

**********************************************************

Zuppa Toscana

3 cans of chicken broth

1/4 cup heavy cream

4-5 medium russet potatoes

2 cups chopped kale

1/2 pound ground spicy Italian sausage

1/4 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes

bacon - the real stuff, crumbled

Brown the sausage in a skillet. Drain it well - I've even squeezed it in a paper towel. Set aside.

Combine the broth and the cream in a saucepan over medium heat.

Slice the unpeeled potatoes into 1/4 inch slices, quarter them, and add them to the soup.

Add the kale.

Add the sausage.

Add the salt and the crushed red pepper. Add more if you like. I do.

Simmer over medium heat until the potatoes are tender. Stir occasionally.

Just before serving, sprinkle with the bacon. The bacon adds a terrific flavor and some bright color.

Bask in the compliments.

(Note: you can play with these ingredients all you want. If you like more meat, use the whole pound. Use as many potatoes as you have on hand. I always chop the entire thing of kale. Keep the broth and cream ratio the same. Doubling the recipe is good...doubling means leftovers.)

Oh, and to make it all more interesting...here's a few pix.

This is what the kale looks like in the grocery stores. I haven't seen it at Walmart in a while, but Harmon's always has it. I think it's pretty enough to be called a bouquet of kale. So put that on your shopping list: a bouquet a kale.

I seriously think this is an interesting vegetable. Isn't it pretty, all curly like this? Oh, and it may be the only saving grace of this soup, health-wise. It's a nutritional powerhouse.

See that middle spine/stem lookin' thing? I just slice the leaves away from that, and chop 'em. Doesn't have to be neat.

This is not the nutritional powerhouse. It's the taste powerhouse.

All put together, ready to simmer. Isn't that pretty? You can see a few of the red pepper flakes. The kale will cook down some and turn a little bit darker green.

See what I mean about the bacon adding just the right amount of color?

It could be a Christmas soup.

Beautiful.

Have a bite.

And make sure you have some floss handy.

Crack House

Do you know what World of Warcraft is? Me neither. Okay, I know a little.

I believe it's also called WoW, however I refer to it as World of Warcrack, giving a direct nod to the totally addictive nature of the game.

The word "cracking" has even become a little pop-culture phrase at our house.

"What is Dad doing?"

"Cracking."

or

"What has Cameron been doing while he's off track?"

"Cracking."

and

"Where is Aaron?"

"Cracking."

One word says it all.

While I don't understand everything (anything) about the game, I have picked up a few things: There are different characters that you can play, each belonging to a different group. The Horde consists of the Tauren, Trolls, Orcs, Blood Elves, and of course, the Undead. The Alliance is Gnomes, Humans, Dwarves, and Night Elves.

Your character(s) can go on quests, earn gold - which is the currency for doing pretty much anything, do a dungeon - whatever that means, advance levels, earn new weapons, pets, clothing and armor. You can also purchase a mount, which is the thing you ride on. It's good to have something to ride on - otherwise you have to run everywhere, and that takes too much time.

It was a big day at our house last weekend...Troy had enough gold to purchase a Fying Mount. Can you imagine the excitement? A freakin' Flying Mount!!!! Seriously, the boys were giddy, and by boys, I mean all three of them.

For Troy to have the 1000 gold needed for the FM, is practically a miracle. The boys are always begging for Troy to send their characters some gold so they can buy stuff. He also pays them in gold for various chores. For example,

"Cameron, will you run upstairs and get me a Diet Coke?"

"I will if you send me 5 gold."

You can play the Crack by yourself, on teams, and with strangers over the Cracknet. The game sucks you in and rewards you with upgraded armour for playing so many hours in a week. It's all about the armor, trust me. When Troy can't manage to get in his own hours...the boys will play his characters for him. For some gold, of course.

Troy is a Level 70 Tauren, Warrior Class, with Merciless Gladiator Plate Armor. His name is Kellekk. He wears the Cloak of the Inciter, the Belt of the Soul Saver, and the Choker of Bloodied Feathers. He is a skilled leatherworker, making and selling various leathery things to earn his way in the world. Of Warcrack.

Cameron is a Level 67 Blood Elf, Hunter Class, Mail Armor. His name is Rraith. He specializes in mining and engineering, and spends his free time riding his Wolf Mount. He's also skilled in Beast Mastery, and has a Snow Leopard (named Glacier) for a pet.

Aaron is a Level 13 UnDead, Warlock Class, Cloth Armor. His name is Corrack, and he mostly runs around looking at the scenery. His pet is a Fire Imp named Zepgup. Corrack also dabbles in mining and blacksmithing.

Most of the time, Aaron just likes to play Troy's character, and ride the Flying Mount. We use it for a reward/bribe, as in,

"Aaron, if you let us clean out your ears, you can ride on Daddy's Flying Mount."

It's shameful, how much cracking is going on at my house.

They. Are. Addicted.

Oh, and the game never ends. Expansion packs, you know.

On the positive side...

• it's something they do together, and they really, really have fun
• it's less expensive than things like hunting (I think)
• the boys can type pretty well now
• they watch practically no television, which
• leaves me in control of the remote

and

• who can resist a high ranking Tauren with a Choker of Bloodied Feathers, riding around on a Flying Mount? Hmmmm?

What hobbies do you or your family indulge in?

April Fresh Piles

Sure, it starts off with just one little load of whites. That I don't fold right away.

But then the boy who only has three pairs of pants (because he can't wear anything besides these Old Navy, elastic waist, nylon mesh, silky soft pants. And there were only three colors.) mentioned that he doesn't have anything to wear.

So I threw in a load of kid's clothes.

Can't fold right now... Dancing With The Stars is on.

And then the man came home with dirty laundry in his duffel bag.

Towels were next. (They are clean when they dry off - why can't they use the same towel more than once?)

Might as well wash my clothes too. Still haven't folded anything.

What have you been neglecting lately?

Movie Quote Monday # 6

Good Monday morning! Welcome to the goofiest hottest spot on the internet. Glad you can join us.

Let's start off with...


"I passed through the seven levels of the Candy Cane forest, through the sea of swirly twirly gum drops, and then I walked through the Lincoln Tunnel."


Go.

Come and Play!

8am.
Movie Quote Monday.
See you there.

Saturday Chores

It was a gorgeous day today. Sunny, a perfect blue sky, and Troy was home for the weekend. Time to take care of those Fallish things. Well, time for Troy to take care of them.

Check out that sky! And the kid on the roof!

Yeah, Troy was up there too. Aaron just likes the view, but Troy was covering the swamp cooler.
Every time Troy goes up on the roof to fiddle with the cooler, he forgets to take his tools up with him. He yells down to me or Cameron, we fetch the tool and then hurl it up towards him. It usually takes a toss or two. Throwing metal objects up onto a roof takes some finesse. You don't want to hit the catcher, but it needs to be close enough to them that they don't have to lean forward (and fall off) to grasp it. Not far enough and that tool will fall right back down on the thrower. These are the grey handled pliers flying through the air.

Then it's garage cleaning time. We do this every Fall and Spring. We have way too much stuff. Tell me your garage gets to looking like this too.

This would go a lot faster if you'd put the camera down and help me.

Seriously. Stop taking pictures. I want to go play World of Warcraft.

Fine. Cameron will help me. I'll pay him in gold. (the currency of Warcraft)

Found a tub full of toys and Bear Lake sand. Might as well wash them off.

And then play with them.

Wait a minute. Is Cameron running around outside in his super-expensive, hand-linked, seamless socks?

Yes. His punishment will be swift and severe. Sigh...or not.

Now some people like to rake the leaves up off the grass.

Troy prefers to vacuum them with the mower.

It actually works pretty well.

Time for some flips.

Noooooooowwwww can I go play?

How was your Saturday?