I'm making the sauce, checking it twice...

...gonna find out who's naughty or nice....

Hello, dear weekend reader.

Wassup?!?!?!

I'm laughing because that is
so not me.
I'm like the last person who would ever say
"wassup"
and mean it.
But I just felt like saying it to you today.



So, what have you been doing this weekend?
We had the threat of snow which, most of the time in Middle TN, is idle. And I just don't see me waking up to seven feet of snow when it was hardly cold enough for jackets earlier today. I think other people have had snow. Maybe not you guys in Texas. But you other guys down the street from the Mall of America, I bet you haven't been wearing flip flops lately, have you?
I have had the day of guests today. Last night Lloyd Dobbler's friends from college and their children came to stay a couple of nights with us. They used to live in the next tiny town over, so they came to see some of the people they used to be with all the time and to show their kids their old stomping grounds and home the kids are too young to remember. There are three girls (I'm guessing ages 15, 10 and 5) and one boy (about 12?) and they have played very nicely with my three. And they are a very peaceful family. I often wonder if we seem like barbarians to nice, quiet families like that. We aren't quiet and sometimes we aren't even that nice.

So this morning they left to visit their old friends and then they returned tonight for dinner. While they were gone in the middle of the day one of my buddies (and one of my favorite people in the world!) came over to visit with me. She's going to be moving soon and I hate that. I don't even want to think about that right now. But it's a cool adventure lying ahead of her and her family. So I'm just enjoying the time that is left with her. Like today. She just came over and helped me make the banana pudding for dinner tonight and brought me a coffee and we laughed and talked and just hung out.
So that was cool.

Let me tell you what else I did today. I made this sauce. You see, recently Lloyd Dobbler bonded with this friend of ours over meat and smoking meat and sauces and BBQ and whatever else falls under that heading. Lloyd Dobbler has a great interest in these things and so does our friend. Well, our lovely little friend gave us this YUMMY chunk of meat that he had smoked himself and also this recipe for a mild BBQ sauce.
So tonight with the visitors we had
the meat--it was a brisket--
and in the middle of our meal,
I found myself wondering
where on the cow the brisket comes from.
I've never heard a cow say
"Oh, I think I've sprained my brisket"
nor have I heard one heifer say to another,
"Ugh! He slapped me right on the brisket."
I couldn't pin the tail on the brisket.
I don't know where it's at.

Do you know?

Let's pause here a minute.


Okay.
Let's go on.

As I was saying, I made that sauce. The sauce from the recipe the friend gave us. And let me just tell you, for someone who doesn't know a thing about sauces of any kind, I am thinking that I made some fabulous sauce today. Maybe it was just a FABULOUS recipe, but I followed that recipe and that makes me the maker of the fabulous sauce. And far be it from me to not take credit for something that I have done.

Now, dear reader, you know me. You know how modest and retiring I am. Right? But if I had to pick an award winning sauce for the day---it would be mine. And I don't just say that because that was the only sauce on the scene today. Had their been any competition, I would still be walking away with the golden cup.

And the sauce, much like saying "wassup," is SOOO not me. I'm not a saucy girl. Well, not in the condiment sense of the word. I mean, I bought ingredients to go into this stuff that I have never bought in my life. Like chili sauce. I don't even know what that's for; is it for making chili? Because I've made chili for years and never needed it. And Tabasco sauce---I bought that for the first time.

You know, back in the winter....or whenever it was that we had those themed dinners. We did Italian one time and I think we did Mexican. What else did we do? I don't even remember. Isn't that sad? But we had these dinner where we'd have a theme and everyone brought a dish that went with that theme and we just ate this hodge-podge (and yet themed) meal. There was a variety of people that came and at one of these, I remember somebody coming up to me and asking for the Tabasco sauce. And when I said I didn't have any, they were like, "Oh, well, whatever hot sauce you have. It doesn't have to be Tabasco." And I didn't have any. Sorry. But I do now.
If you come to my house now, not only will you find me and the kids wearing gas masks, but you will find Tabasco sauce in my cabinet. What is this world coming to?

With the extra children, there has been the issue of misplaced children. Not a problem, but an issue. I guess the whole matter is that Superbaby is not used to sleeping anywhere in our house other than his bed and he's also not used to an assortment of other children being in the house. He just hasn't been able to go to sleep these last two nights though he has been tired.
Tonight, after all the other kids were asleep and I thought he was, I heard somebody come to the stairs so I went to see who it was. It was him, of course. And his shirt was all wet. At first I feared he'd been playing in the toilet (does that make me a "glass is half empty" kind of person to assume the worst in the first second? Or does it just show that I have experience with this particular child?) but he had not. Someone had left the bathtub full of water and he had been playing in that. Nicely and quietly and for who knows how long. I'm just glad he hadn't made a horrible mess or drowned. Not that HE would ever make a water mess in this house.
Have I told you about the water damage he did to our brand spanking new house when it was brand spanking new? Maybe I'd better save that for another day. I'm tired. It's late. I've got one more shift to pull in the morning at Bell's Diner. Although tomorrow's breakfast menu will be simpler on the cook. I hope the guests won't mind. But they are very easy to please. I told you they are nice. Not a bunch of crazy people like my family.

I hope you are having a lovely weekend.
Oh, by the way, February is over.

And my point is?

I watched The Waltons growing up. And Little House on the Prairie. I watched them faithfully. Loved them.
But I can't watch them now.
I don't know what it is. Am I too sarcastic? Too jaded? What's the deal? My mom and some of my friends buy them by the season. I cannot even tell you how little interest I have in that. It doesn't even register.
And it's not like I don't want to watch something I've already seen. I gladly watch The Andy Griffin Show over and over and over. Never get tired of that show. Or I Love Lucy. I really do love Lucy. Or the $100,000 Pyramid gameshow hosted by Dick Clark---the old ones. I loved that show. I still love it. Why didn't they stick to the way it was done originally when they came out with it again? It smells badly (that's a nice way of saying IT STINKS), this new version hosted by the vain Donny Osmond.
Maybe it's the half hour verses the hour. I don't know what it is. But I can't watch Johnboy or Half Pint or any of their coming of age adventures. I have nothing against them. I have seen them. I've agonized with Elizabeth and the scary dreams about the ferris wheel at the fair. I have watched Nellie Olsen pitch fits and Mary go blind. I was there when Olivia got diagnosed with TB and when Laura fell in love with Almonzo. I've been through it all. You guys are all welcome to go there again. I'm just saying....I will not be going with you.
There's no reason for me to tell you this. I just thought I would let you know.

You would never know by the state of my house that we have company coming tomorrow. This couple that Lloyd Dobbler knew in college are coming. And their four kids. They are staying Friday and Saturday nights with us. They won't be here much of the day Saturday and they are leaving Sunday morning. So it's not like we'll be with them the whole weekend. But it is very much like ---they WILL be here both nights. I DO need to get the rooms ready. I DO need to clean the bathrooms. I DO need to get the folded and ironed clothes out of the living room. I DO need to get some stuff done. Especially since we will be gone all day tomorrow.

Hello!?! Bell!?!?!
What are yo doing sitting here talking to Dear Reader?

I did get the shopping done today. Lovely K got to go to her buddy's house to play so me and "da boys" went to get the groceries. And I will say this again---it doesn't' matter which child you remove from the equation, two children are easier than three. That is just the way it works.

It's a beautiful day here, by the way. One of those days that makes you realize that spring is indeed around the corner. I tell you this in case you want to call the people who live down the street from the Mall of America and tell them that it's in the sixties in Middle Tennessee. Just so they'll know what they are missing.

Okay....I'm obviously just talking
to you to avoid the things
that need to be done.
I need to go get busy.

Aloha
(which can mean "goodbye"
as well as "hello"
to our Hawaiian friends).
Catch you later.

D-I-V-O-R-C-E

If you sang the letters of this post in your best Tammy Wynett voice, come here and let me give you a hug. If you can also sing a line or two from "Pistol Packin' Mama" and you know who The Sons of the Pioneers were, then you can move into my guest room. I will take you to raise. Even if you are old.

I read a thought provoking little post. It provoked little thoughts. No, it just made me realize that though my life has not been touched very much by divorce, it is everywhere. It is like the bear mauling statistic this guy gives. Why don't we carry bear spray?

Mark your historical church calendar!

It's that time of year where

as I read about the experiences
of some of my fellow bloggers
who are Believers,
I start wishing
that the church I attended had a little more
pomp and circumstance.
No, I don't mean I want
the graduation music
played during our services.
I mean that having been raised in a succession of small southern Independent Baptist churches, there's no such word as liturgy in our vocabulary. The only lent we have is in our clothes dryers. And come December, there'll be no advent.
(I'll go you one further than that--- our little church doesn't even do the "traditional" Christmas play for the children. Or a cantata. Come to think of it..... maybe I've been attending services at a community center.....)

I didn't know what any of that was. I thought it was all Catholic stuff. I'm still not exactly hip to all of it. I think reading the Mitford series was my introduction to all that foreign stuff.
(foreign to me) Just to show you how unaware of it I was---that Mitford was my introduction.

I'm just saying that I find all of that intriguing. My little Episcopal buddy will tell me things that are a part of their services sometimes and I just think,
"Oh, that would be so cool."
At the same time, being the joker that I am, I find myself being Jon Stewart when I am actually around that. I don't mean to be. I just find humor at all inappropriate times. Ask my class teacher at our church; I'm sure I have derailed many a good lesson by my sarcastic comment or funny insight. I made an Episcopal minister (whatever he would be called---the guy with the pope hat) annoyed at a family wedding. He was coming in from a back room, closed a door behind him and didn't realize he closed the door on his robe. He took about three steps away before he was stopped, almost jerked backwards to the ground from his robe being stuck in the doorway. It was just so funny to me. This solemn, serious guy in his whole outfit doing such a clutsy thing. I laughed out loud and he gave me the stink eye.

At this same wedding, the same guy did the communion part of the service (see, again, small southern Baptists churches---we don't do this at weddings and we don't really participate in it when somebody else does---just FYI) and he did the single goblet of wine for the whole group. There was a large crowd at the wedding, but only about ten people came down there and took part. So he had to drink it all himself. They believe that it (the wine) actually turns into Christ's blood after it is prayed over, right? Anyway, he had to drink it all. I just remember that it took him a while. Several long drinks. And it was very quiet. We all just sat there watching him. And why am I telling you all of this?
Why do I tell you any of this silly trivial thoughts that go parading across my non-traditional brain? Good question.

Some of you who have always had the very formal, traditional church services may be intrigued by an experience more like mine. There are pluses and minuses on both sides. I can see where the formality would make a personal relationship with Christ seem unlikely. I can also see where the casual approach can create attitudes too flippant and irreverent.

Well, I need to get up
and get to scootin' my boot
around this house.
My children have led
the educational life of leisure
so far this week.
That ends today.
Back to the

back-breaking hard labor
of mining those educational nuggets
deep from the recesses of.....
their text books.

Gag a Magot

I took Gaggy McGaggerton to the orthodontist today, bless her heart. I would not have been sympathetic to my daughter's over-active gag reflex years ago. It was my second pregnancy that my own gagging skills decided to take center stage. The entire time I was pregnant with Big E, I could hardly even brush my teeth. Anything gagged me. I thought it would go away after that pregnancy, but it didn't. You should have seen my wonderful doctor trying to do the strep test on me once. Well, I shouldn't say "trying" because that makes it sound like he wasn't able to do it. He was able. It just wasn't a pretty sight. But then, who looks their best when having an extra long Q-tip stuck down their throat? I know that's not a good look for me.

So anyway, the child who has caused many dramatic scenes in various offices of medical professionals actually proved that she is indeed growing up. I was so proud today because she didn't do anything crazy. Even with the gag issue....she was great. I tried to take her to Baskin Robbins afterward (she gasped when I told her they had 31 flavors---where am I raising my children? Under a rock? We've got to get out more!) but they weren't open yet. She got a milkshake from Sonic instead.


I debated about even telling Lovely K anything at all about what was going to happen at today's visit. In my memory, having impressions made was the worst part of my whole orthodontic experience.

I HATED that.

And I didn't want to project my bad experience onto her. So I basically told her that if something unpleasant happened, it would be brief.

And I taught her how to breath like I do
when I'm having a baby.

But you know, it went a lot faster today than "back in the day" when I had impressions made. This gal today told Lovely K the yuck had to stay in until the pink stuff turned white, about thirty seconds to one minute. Thirty seconds to one minute?!? Now I don't remember exactly how long it had to stay in when I was the patient, but I know it was NOT thirty seconds to a minute. I remember that the little worker person left the room and left me sitting there with the tray of nastiness in my mouth. Not like for thirty minutes or something.....but a couple of minutes. Maybe three.

Did I go to a Nazi orthodontist or something?

Or am I turning into that parent that tells everything like it was so much worse when they were a child? I'm not trying to be that kind of parent. I'm telling it as I remember it. I'm not trying to say that I had my impressions made while I was walking barefoot in the snow.
Uphill.

Maybe it was all the suffering under the hands of my evil Nazi orthodontist that I endured that has made me the ideal dental patient that I am today. Don't think I've forgotten all that praise I received a few days ago from the dentist. Praise for, you know, sitting there. And holding my mouth open. And being mildly tranquilized.
I was so good at that.

Daily Load of Benefits

It's already a better day
and I haven't even been downstairs yet.

For one thing,
I don't need those brain salts nearly so bad today.

For another thing, today will not be a normal school day. I have to load up Lovely K and take her to the orthodontist. She's getting impressions made this morning. She doesn't know this and I am wondering whether I should even talk to her about it before we get there. I remember hating that the worst of my entire braces experience. I haven't quite decided what tack to take. My father is coming over to watch the boys while she and I are gone. That in itself is amusing. My dad is not the kind of person you ask to babysit. He's not known far and wide for his ability to herd small children. But I guess we are to that point where he can handle it. Big E is six

(last night he came downstairs and
collapsed into a chair saying
"I've got to rest. I'm so tired.
I've been walking for six years.")

and Superbaby is three. It's not like I'm leaving him with a newborn. That would not happen. And I'll just make sure Superbaby has on about three pull ups. And all will be well. We won't be gone that long anyway.

So after my comments last night, I just didn't want to leave you thinking I was out on a ledge, thinking about jumping. We don't have ledges anyway.

I saw a cute cartoon this morning. I can't show it to you so I'll tell you about it. (this is like cartoons for the blind!) Two guys are sitting at a bar, one of them is wearing a hat. The other guy is saying, "Oh good grief! Take your hat off! No one wears hats in cartoons anymore."

That just struck me as funny.

Have a lovely ordinary day!

Are we done yet?

It's been one of those days.

I know you've had them.
We all have.
There's almost no point
in mentioning it.
But you know me.
I'm mentioning it.

I've actually gotten some stuff done today--in spite of the general stinkiness of this stinky day. I'm getting ready for this family to come stay the weekend with us so I've got to do a few things this week in preparation. And we kind of studied George Washington and Abe Lincoln today. We had George Washington brownies after supper tonight (brownies with a can of cherry pie filling baked in them) and read books about the duo. I did 83 loads of laundry.

But it's been one of those days.

My #3 child has really been pushing it today. Even now he's covered from one end to the other in red ink.

Don't ask.

It's just been one of those days.

I'm glad it's almost bedtime. I'm going to pick up what has to be picked up and then just lay on the couch and veg or go to bed. I'm so done with this stupid day.

Do you ever have your kids say things to you at just the wrong time. Once I was aggravated and I called something stupid. One of my darlings said, "Mama, we don't say stupid." What was my response?
Some things ARE stupid.

Like this day.

amazing story

If you can take the time, watch this video. It is long. It is the most amazing story. This guy, Peter Loth, was born in a concentration camp, experimented on by Nazis as a baby. After the war, he was abused as a child in Russian orphanages. He finally made it to the U.S.A. to face more hardship. But this man, this precious Jewish man, has the most gentle, loving, Christ-like attitude. Hearing his testimony will grip your heart and leave you speechless. I hope you can watch it.

if you believe they put a man on the moon....

I love overhearing conversations between my children.

Last night I was driving Lovely K and Big E to my parents to spend the night. They were chatting back and forth sort of about astronomy. I guess Lovely K was sharing some of her knowledge from the Exploring Outer Space class she is taking at our home school co-op (she was telling him at one point that you could never touch the sun and if you got even twenty inches away from it, you would burn up).


Big E is really into Star Wars and aliens and things of that nature. So in the midst of this serious, adult-like conversation, he asked her if there were really aliens on the moon.
She said, "No, there aren't any.
This guy went to the moon and he didn't see any.
And he looked in the craters and everything."

I'm so glad Neil Armstrong was thorough.

gas and full lips

Guess where I went yesterday.

Here's a clue:

I went to the stinky dentist.

Oh what fun.

Remember I went there a week or so ago---my tongue flopping about the entire office uncontrollably. Well, on that visit they informed me that a filling I had done as a child had cracked or broken or fallen out. I think they were just looking for a chance to get out the old drill and go to town on my pearly whites.

I really hadn't thought much about the appointment other than that it was there on the calender and I needed to go. Then as I drove my little self across town to the dentist's office, it was like all of a sudden I realized I was going TO THE DENTIST. It has been years and years since I had anything other than cleanings done. I thought about needles. I thought about pain. I thought about skipping my appointment. But I didn't. I'm a grown woman. I am some body's mother. Am I going to be afraid of a little dental work? I think not.

Especially now. I have had my eyes opened to something I have been missing out on in the whole dental experience.

You see, evidently my old faithful dentist that I had gone to all of my life was from a different school of thought. He didn't coddle his patients. He didn't want a bunch of wimpy, pansy people pointing at him and saying "That's my dentist." He must have been a Marine. He wanted to make men of us. What I'm saying is: he didn't use gas. I had never had or even been offered nitrous oxide. Until yesterday.

When I told my new dentist I had never had this stuff before, he started explaining it to me like I had grown up on the moon. But when he said, "Basically it's a mild tranquilizer," I said to him, "Oh great! I could use that around the house with the kids."

And you know what? I could.

You have to understand, I have never been drunk. Never been high. I use medication sparingly. I don't like anything that makes me feel like I am not 100% in control of myself. But I am telling you what----that visit to the dentist was like a mini vacation. It was very nice. I could have gone to sleep while they were working on me. I just sat there and relaxed and it was lovely. My old dentist would have had me scrubbing down the equipment for him while we waited for the 17 shots he gave me to take effect. If I said I still felt the pain when he began to work, he would have said, "Why don't you drop and give me twenty, Bell, and then we'll see if you still want to complain about pain!"

It was like for the first time in my life I realized that people use and abuse drugs because it makes them feel good. Or not feel bad---which can be a different thing. But they aren't analyzing the risks or thinking about right and wrong. They just want to feel better than they are feeling right then. I'm not saying I think that's a okay or a good thing. I think it's crazy. People ruin their lives and the lives of others. They mess up their bodies. They ruin their minds. But I just remember sitting there in that chair and thinking, "Oh....this is why people use drugs."

And believe me when I say I can understand
why housewives in the sixties were taking
those "vitamins" that doctors gave them.
I'm thinking that me and the kids could
all use a few mild tranquilizers from time to time.
So if you pop in at our house one day,
don't be surprised if this is what you see:

By the way,
I saw this van for sale on the way home.

It just really appealed to me.Do you think Lloyd Dobbler will let me buy it?

Oh---guess what?

I think my tongue behaved this time. Maybe the tranquilizer works first on the tongue. Maybe that's why this dentist wanted to use it on me. He didn't want to have to battle that thing flopping around while he was working. I wonder if they marked on my chart after my last visit: Unruly tongue. But not this visit; the tongue behaved.

Or maybe it didn't and I was just too happy and relaxed to care.

This new dentist kept saying that I was being SUCH a GOOD patient. He said it like 42 times. I mean, that's like something they tell children. It just made me wonder what his other patients were doing. Not sitting down? Refusing to open their mouths when he told them too? What do adults do to make a bad patient out of themselves? I mean, it's not like it's a complex situation. You sit in the chair and do nothing but hold your mouth open.

But apparently I am the best dental patient
in the entire world.

That's not all. Apparently I have great lips. He told me this and then proceeded to talk to his dental assistant about how they now want dentists to get into the cosmetic plumping of the lips, to encourage their patients to get the lips of Jabez and to learn how to do the procedure. But he pointed out to her that I would not need this plumping (after all, I am the best patient in the world). This seemed so strange to me and my naturally plump lips--for the dentist to be talking about my features right in front of me. But they were right there. I guess when you are faced with such perfection, it's just hard not to comment on it.

Best patient.
Best lips.
Best nitrous oxide.
It was all good.

'Tis A Gift To Be Simple

I feel like I have mentally been making
this "To Do" list that is about
eight mental pages long right now.

And just getting started.
And the thing is---there's always something else to do.
If I cross one thing off of my list, there are two or three other things I need to add.
And I am the type of person who gets
easily over whelmed.


Talk about a one track mind.
The only way I can successfully multi-task
is if some of the tasks can be
breathing,
walking,
humming.
That kind of thing.

I'm a simple kind of girl.
I like Simplicity.
And then I let life pile up around me
to the point that Simplicity feels like Chaos has a strangle hold on her.
I don't know how it happens.

Just this fall, I seemed to have a better handle on things. I was looking back at the last year of blog posts (and if you ever do this, let me warn you that some of the pictures evaporated so if it seems like something is missing, it is), and wondering how I had time to do all that stuff in addition to all the other stuff that I knew was getting done. Because I have come to realize that it can't all get done. Not if I am going to maintain my sweet cherub-like demeanor. I don't remember feeling all crazy back then while in the midst of stuff.
Why does my cup runneth over right now?

I realize that this seems to be building
as though the next paragraph should say
"so I have decided to..." or "here's my plan...."
Well guess what?
I haven't made any decision or developed any plan.
I'll tell you what I am doing. I'm just following the Elisabeth Elliot mantra right now:

Do the next thing.



And I don't know about your life, but in my life, The Next Thing is always standing there, tapping his watch and looking impatient. I don't have to search for him. He breathes down my neck. He thinks he should have been done five minutes ago. Sometimes he starts calling my name while I'm still working with The Current Thing.
Sometimes he calls me Mama.


Okay, I guess I have made a decision after all.
Or maybe not.
Maybe this has been with me all along.
I am going to be happy.
I'm not going to get crazy. "My people" have a genetic tendency to get down in the dumps. We're just cool like that. But I'm not going to do it. Even when yucky things happen constantly, we can still opt to sing show tunes.
Do you know what I'm saying?
I may be saddled up with things that I don't want to carry, but I have to carry them. So while I'm doing that, I may as well have fun with it.
Tell a joke.
Talk in a funny voice.
Scare the kids when they least expect it.
Pull a prank.
Play a little '80's music really loud
(--and hope that nobody is watching
because that's how I'm dancing.)

I just want to enjoy my life.



Because I have learned this
---we don't know what tomorrow holds.
God has clearly told us this.
He has told us we are all going to die.
He has told us to deal with today and that should keep us busy, not to worry about tomorrow. He has told us that as Christians, trials and struggles are going to come. The world is going to hate us. Things are only going to get worse. But He will never leave us or forsake us. He gives us His peace, not the kind the world gives but a peace that passes understanding. I can lift my eyes up at any given moment and remember where my help comes from. It comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. He doesn't sleep on the job. He is sovereign and holy and merciful and good. I can't move my toes without Him knowing about it and letting it happen.
So I trust God.
I'm not going to be overwhelmed with all that life has going on. I can't control much of it at all. I can't even control me sometimes. I'm not going to be discouraged when others around me reveal themselves to be liars and hypocrites. I'm not going to try to fix everyone and every thing. I've got a full time job with the three short people I'm in charge of now and there's a whole lot of room for improvement in what I am doing with them. I've got more than enough to keep me busy and I'm not going to add to that things that aren't even my business in the first place.
I don't have any tips for the Middle East conflict.
I don't have a financial recovery plan for our country.
I haven't one suggestion for anyone struggling with the housing crisis.
I don't even have any thoughts on illegal immigration or our failing educational system. Well....that's not true.
I do have thoughts on our failing educational system.
But let's not get into that.
I will tell you what I am going to do.I am going to make breakfast for my kids. I am going to get them started on their school work. I am going to remind Superbaby to go to the potty every twenty minutes. I am going to use the flat iron on my hair and paint my toe nails. I am going to do a little math in the check book. I'm going to do a couple of loads of laundry and vacuum the downstairs. I am going to pay the property taxes and go to the dentist. I am going to read some more about a midwife in the late 1700's. I am going to drink peppermint green tea in the giant mug and I am going to order a book from Simply Charlotte Mason that will be a healing salve on my homeschooling wounds. That's what I am going to do today.
And facebook.
Don't forget facebook.

Here's a good post I read this morning. I like this chick though I don't know much about her. She just seems like a modern day Ginger Rogers (not dancing with Fred but in her dramatic roles).

Okay......so.....I am wondering
if you are scratching your head.
I don't know.
I'm just kind of spilling out
the contents of my head this morning.
I hope I didn't get any on your shoes.
This stuff can leave a stain.

Who was that masked man?

Sometimes it's fun to jump into whatever my children are imagining and play right along with them. As a brand new three year old, Superboy's imagination has really kicked in. He will tell these fantastical tales that could have happened---only they didn't---fortunately I am with him all day every day to keep a handle on what is real and what isn't. He wants to be a part of everything and so if he missed out on something, he just tells the story again, including himself. He's very good at it.
Is this how pathological liars get their starts?

He was sitting at the table this week wearing
the Bibleman mask. I asked him a question and
instead of addressing him by his name,
I called him Bibleman.
He said, "Mom, I'm Superbaby."
I said, "Oh, I thought you were Bibleman."
He sighed and said,
"Mom...I'm not wearing a cape."

Ooooooooh.
Right.
Okay.

Aren't kids great? My three just keep me hopping all of the time. Never a dull moment.
Even without capes.

Your mama don't dance and your daddy don't rock'n'roll

How funny is it that I put MC Hammer's U Can't Touch This over there on our little juke box? It's only about 40 seconds of the song. It wouldn't have been funny to make you listen to the whole thing. But for half a minute, it's funny.

Are you even listening to the carefully selected songs I have selected so carefully to share with you? I feel like I need to preface any reference to the music by saying, if it offends you, don't listen to it. By all means. I know that will offend some people I know. And some people I know can't understand why it would be offensive. And some people will never give this blog a second look when they see the music and think that I have gone to the devil. (I hope you don't think that. I haven't.) And some of you don't know me.

There are two sides to every coin.

One day I wrote this huge post about music and it just became this whole thing and then I thought about it and didn't post it. There's so much to say and so much that has been said. I have heard it all. If you have your own blog, feel free to rant and rave about music all you want. Or play horribly offensive stuff if you want. I can't control what you do. Nor do I want to.

If I thought something I was doing was wrong,
I wouldn't do it.
That's the way we roll around here.





Hammer time.

You can't touch this.

Hello Beautiful.

It's here.
The new mattress.

It's the firmest mattress you can get....
that's not made out of wood or concrete.

No pillow top.
None of that squishy stuff.

We like a hard-as-a-rock mattress
and that is what we have got.

We're so happy.

Recap

First of all let me tell you that though my junior high humor remains intact, this year I resisted the urge to tell everyone who might have seen my Facebook status to "Enjoy VD" on Saturday. That's my usual greeting for February 14th. It always amuses me. I suppose I will get over it some time, but I'm in my mid thirties and still grinning. This should not come as a surprise to you, dear reader. You have been seeing me in all my silliness for a while now.

So---I hope you guys had a lovely Valentine's Day. First of all, this early spring-y weather has been great. Lloyd Dobbler and I went to College Town and I wore a top with 3/4 length sleeves and it didn't even occur to me to bring a jacket until....well, until we were already there and the sun began to set and it was a little too late. But I didn't freeze. It was like a chilly spring night. My kind of February, for sure.

Lloyd Dobbler and I raced down to College Town to catch this specific movie we both wanted to see (and it was only being shown twice). Have you ever stood there and watched the people in front of you buy tickets and as they walk away, they change your movie from 1:10 to SOLD OUT? That's exactly what happened. We were so disappointed. We even tried to get tickets anyway and the little man at the window was like "What part of "sold out" don't you understand?" So instead of going to eat after the movie, we went then, in our disappointed state. We ate at Caraba's and had a nice meal. Sat at a table rather than a booth which seemed to give Lloyd Dobbler issues. After the meal, we returned to the movies and watched a movie whose trailer I had seen that morning.

Have you ever watched a trailer and thought a movie would be one thing, only to find that you were way off? Like the trailer was designed to hide the true nature of the movie? Well, that's exactly what happened. The trailer made me laugh. And while I did occasionally laugh at the movie, it was just a bit of a waste of time. Lloyd Dobbler would have thrown a bucket at the screen had he carried a bucket into the theatre with him.

How nice of someone to snap that picture of us exiting the movies. And I know what you are thinking---no wonder I wasn't cold with that giant turtleneck. Or were you thinking that Lloyd Dobbler had shaved off his beard? Or were you thinking how odd that there is no movie being advertised on the marquee? Or were you thinking that maybe someone else has a more interesting post you could be reading at this very moment?
Well, in case you are new in town here, you know that the pictures seen here do not always represent the reality of my life. At first, I was snapping pictures of everything. And showing them to you. Then we had the tragedy of the camera loss. More recently we had the tragedy of the loss of all our digital pictures we had smartly stored in one place with no back up. So until I get a new camera the pictures will be more and more on the fantastical side.

I could show you this picture I just snapped with my web cam:

Sorry that showed up in black and white.
Must be something wrong with my web cam.

Back to the VD recap:
After the movie, we made our way over to this mattress store. I want to tell you that my hubby's words to me as we strolled from car to store were "We are not going to buy one tonight." That was fine with me. We are not impulse buyers---but this could in no way be an impulse by since we've been planning to purchase a new mattress for ages. But it just struck me as funny that he made this statement to me and then proceeded to march right into the store, slap his card down on the counter and say "Give me a mattress straight up, bar keep!" The guy behind the counter put a mattress on the bar, sent it sliding down the bar in our direction, and my husband turned it up and drank it in one large swallow.

What?
Oh, we bought a mattress.
That's what I was trying to tell you.

Tonight we will be sleeping on it for the first time. Lloyd Dobbler has to go pick it up since they don't deliver to us little peons outside of College Town. But tonight I will have a nice new mattress and I am so looking forward to it. I thought of it many times during the night last night.

After the bedding purchase, we picked up our off spring from my parents and came home. I gave my kids and Lloyd Dobbler their presents from me at that time and the day was over.

So, a lovely day was had by all....I hope.
Hope you enjoyed VD!
(I just had to say it to someone!)

Taming the Tongue

Even by the title of this post, I am sure you guys are not expecting a discourse from me on how to control that little muscle in your mouth that has been set on fire from hell. It's not that I don't find that a worthy topic, but I don't find myself as a worthy speaker on that topic. I struggle to control my own tongue in more ways than one---as you will see.

I just marvel at myself that while I love to read thought-provoking posts and things that will help me spiritual or intellectually, I myself choose post about silliness and trivia. This is the real Bell. What can I say? Bring in the clowns.



But I thought of you today. I am always thinking of you at weird times. Today, it was here:


I had to go to the dentist today. Just the cleaning and check up. I have never been afraid of the dentist or anything like that. I had the same dentist from the age of three until he retired a couple of years ago and I wish I still had the same dentist. Not that I want a 98 year old man probing around in my mouth with a tiny spike, but I was used to him. He was the whole world of dentistry as far as I was concerned. And now I am going to this other dentist and quite frankly, I don't care for him. There's nothing I can say as The Reason why I don't like Dentist #2. Maybe it's just the fact that he's not Dentist #1.

Maybe it's the fact that he has never
offered me a ring or a sticker
or a prize of any kind.

I'm not sure what it is.

But I thought of you while I was there in the dental lounge chair today. I was wondering if you think about your tongue when you are at the dentist and if you feel like you have control over your tongue. You see, I do not feel like I have control over my tongue at the dentist. I have control over it now. It's not like I walk around with my tongue doing crazy things that I can't control. So under normal circumstances, which is everywhere in the world other than the dentist's office, I have basic control over the actions and behavior of my tongue. Once someone gets their hands in my mouth, I have no idea what my tongue is doing.

Is this how everybody feels?
Or do the rest of you even think about what your tongue is doing? And really, having control over it right now doesn't count. You need to make an appointment with the dentist and go there and think about this matter once you have a pair of adult hands and six to seven pieces of dental equipment probing about your oral cavity. Then you will be in a position to give me a more honest answer.

I'm sure this is a strange experience for the tongue too. The tongue is the king of the mouth. The star of the show. The central figure in the oral drama. So when suddenly metal instruments and the appendages of strangers show up, what do you think the tongue is thinking? That's why I think it runs all over the mouth. It doesn't know what to do. It kind of panics. How do I know it runs all over the mouth? Because I feel it bumping into other things.

Let's face it, the tongue doesn't have a lot of options. Limited travel. The same view day in and day out. Constant traffic with the food and the words and the drinks and the toothbrush and floss. And the saliva. Constant issues with the saliva. But the tongue really and truely is faithful little team player, always doing it's job. Always there when you need it. Reliable. Have you ever heard of someone having a tongue replacement? Or have you heard someone say "Did you hear about Lucy? Her tongue just completely gave out on her. And she was so young." No. Never. We take our tongues for granted. They are always there. Always doing their job. You've never wondered if your tongue was going to work, have you? I haven't.

But I can't tell what it's doing once my mouth is fully opened and somebody is working their dental magic inside the cave there. And if I were the tongue, I would think that I would just lay down like an oral carpet, make myself as much a part of the background as possible.

I would be a wall flower.

In the mouth.

If I were the tongue.

I would not misbehave. I wouldn't want to be flopping around, waving like a flag in the breeze, bumping up against the professionals like I'm insecure about them being in my territory. Does the tongue think it's helping? Is the tongue just nosy---trying to see what all that picking and scraping is about? Is the tongue standing there with it's hands on its hips saying, "Yes, I've worked on that spot. I've rubbed up against it. I did all I could but I couldn't get it clean either." Or does the tongue even understand what we are doing there? Maybe it's running around the mouth in a true panic, thinking that horrible pointy thing will be coming for it next.

I don't know what my tongue is thinking or doing.

And these are the things I was thinking about at the dentist.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood....

Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?
Won't you be my neighbor?

Hello neighbor.
Just let me zip up my zip-front cardigan
and slip into my loafers
and for the rest of the post,
you may call me Mrs. Rogers.

Didn't you love Mr. Rogers? I did. I think I loved him more when my older two children were really into him than I ever did when I watched him as a child. We didn't have a lot of options when I was little. No cable in the country. And if you had a satellite back then, it was the size of a flying saucer----we didn't have one. So you never actually chose to watch Mr. Rogers. That was what you got to watch. It was that or soap operas or Talk of the Town. Three networks and PBS---that was the entire gamut. But there was good stuff on PBS. Sesame Street and The Electric Company back in their glory days. There was Jellybean Junction and The Letter People. I really loved The Letter People. I wonder what ever happened to them. I guess they are all capitals by now....

I'm still in the basement. Which is cold. I didn't think to put on a jacket before coming down here. Why is it cold in the basement when it's lovely outside? I don't know. So between the chill and the fact that my kids know they are unattended, I only have a minute to pop in here. I don't even have anything exciting to say. (And how, you ask, is that different from any other time? Oh please---no time for sarcastic remarks either!) I just wanted to report that it is another beautiful day here in sunny Middle TN where we have taken a break from our regularly scheduled winter to enjoy a couple of days of spring.

We had a lovely weekend. On Saturday we went to The Holler to visit our friends and their doggies. We ate yummy BBQ and played outside. They have a big yard and a creek that my kids loved. We had a bond fire and roasted marshmallows and I ate a s'more for the first time. I don't remember ever eating a s'more before. Yes, I know, I need to get out more. It's not like I didn't know what it was or had never been at the same place as a s'more. They were available. I just don't think I ever partook before. Maybe that's why I used to be extremely underweight and now I am not.

I also want to report a good day of homeschooling. We are almost done with everything on the agenda for today and I have done about 917 loads of laundry and it's not even lunch time. Lloyd Dobbler called to see if we were at the park. What does he think? That we just blow off school days? Well....yes, occasionally we do, but not today. But since we've been such good boys and girls today, we have finished our work and we are ready to go to the park with nothing hanging over our heads. I love being on tops of things instead of down in the depths of yuckiness. Remember last week? Wait--stop. Don't remember last week. Let's just act like last week never even happened. Although, if that were the case, why am I sitting in the cold basement?

I'd better head back up into the real world. My babes are suspiciously quiet. Let me take off the imaginary zip-front cardigan. I could have used a real sweater down here. And the loafers. Must change the loafers. Now as you see yourself floating away from my little neighbor hood, let me sing our parting song:

"I'll be back
when the day is new.
And I'll have more
ideas for you.
And you'll have things
you want to
talk about.
I
will
too.
Goodbye neighbor!"

{insert mental image of Fred Rogers}

gloom despair and agony on me

Now those of you who, sadly, never watched a single episode of Hee Haw will not know that "gloom, despair, and agony on me" is a line from a song that was a part of the regular Hee Haw line up. The song goes on to say "if it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all"----and that's what I'll be getting to with this post.

But first
I want to say a word in defense of Hee Haw.
Since you brought it up.
Smiley face.
And I can't throw in an appropriate picture right now.
You'll learn why later.

Here's what I want to say: Don't be hating Hee Haw. I know that people who never experienced Hee Haw when it was a current thing can never fully appreciate it. Not that I am a big fan of Hee Haw and wish it was still around. But it's not something to be snarling about or causing you to make your snippy comments about southerners. You see, Hee Haw was not a documentary. It wasn't like the first reality TV show and these people were just hanging around doing all this stuff whether cameras were rolling or not. I think some people actually think that's what poor white southerners are like though. My soul.
Now, I cannot say that we don't have a whole breed of southern born and bred idiots. (double negatives---that means that I can say it---there ARE idiots in the south.) Oh yes, they do exist. Don't kill off any brain cells unnecessarily by watching this horrid show, but I believe Jerry Springer would be the place to go to get an idea of what those people are like. Or you could have seen a prime example had you been with me Friday in Big Lots looking for a gift bag for my friend's birthday gift--a gift bag that didn't cost as much as the gift, that's what I was looking for. This one employee was stocking a shelf and this other employee came up to tell her some thing and it just stopped me in my tracks---this woman's voice. And her use (or should I say MISuse) of the English language. I had to casually saunter by (I'm so like Lucille Ball in this way) and see this woman for myself. I just wanted to say "Is that your real voice?" and "What is that hanging out of your mouth?" and of course, "Where could I find the gift wrap?"

But she is not a product of Hee Haw.
Grundy County, maybe, but not Hee Haw.

Okay....I've got to get to the matter. The whole reason I came down here in the chilly basement to talk to you. Why am I in the basement? you ask. Well, I'll tell you. Our computer has been having some health problems lately. Lloyd Dobbler thought he could fix it and he was in the process of doing just that, and upgrading it, when it stroked out on us. Hard drive crashed. And evidently burned. Because we have lost everything.

The night that this happened, Lloyd Dobbler told me what happened and that we had probably lost everything on the computer. Then he proceeded to come down every few minutes and mention one of the things lost to me forever. Like Superbaby's first three years of pictures. And important documents for an impending legal problem. And a ton of my poetry. I just wanted him to quit walking through the room. I didn't need the reminders of specific things lost. I understood what he meant when he said "everything." The whole thing was so maddening.

So I'm in the basement on the little computer that could. It's here in this little room where Lloyd Dobbler works when he works from home. This little closet-sized room makes me think of all those mutilated toys in Toy Story. There are parts laying everywhere. If a keyboard with Barbie doll legs walks out of the shadows, that will be the abrupt ending of this post. Just so you'll know.

We think we will have a new set up going this week. I hope so. Until then, there are no pictures for your entertainment. I can't hear the music down here so you are just going to be stuck with the 70's music. You should be getting good at the hustle. (Do it.)

And I hope you appreciate how thoughtful I am for not making the music come on automatically. I hate blogs that do that and I usually don't stick with reading them. Except for one that made me love the song "The Stranger on the Shore." You see, I don't know where you might be when you open up this blog and you might not have turned down your speakers and then you'd have The Hustle blasting out through your workspace or waking your baby or annoying your friend over there in the glasses who is snarling at you this very minute. I'm trying spread the love here, not annoy people with music when they don't want it. I think about you. I try to do what is best for you, dear reader.

I had to teach the ladies' Sunday School class today and one of the points we hit on was that peace with God is our privilege (given to us) and peace with men is our duty (for us to do or make happen). Just thought of that when I said "spread the love" above. Thought I would share.

By the way, it's like sixty degrees here. It's beautiful. BEAUTIFUL. Springlike and warm and making everyone happy. But it's February, people. Keep that in mind.

oh. my. word.

This is all I am going to say right now:

If you ever make that stuffed cabbage, cover it while it cooks.

Sigh.

The 70's called---they want their recipe back.

First, I must ask you to accommodate me in this one little thing and turn on the music to your right. It's really necessary to create the mood for this post. You will get much more out of it if you do this.

I have spent the greater part of my morning making this certain recipe of Stuffed Cabbage and I am so excited about eating it for supper. (What a glamorous and exciting life I lead.) This is something my mother-in-law made for us once when she was here and either I was just starved to death for some one's cooking other than my own or it was really really good. I hope it was the latter because I just made the thing and put it in the oven on "delay start." Don't you love "delay start" and any sort of programming you can do on your oven? I hope you have these features. They are so worth having. I really enjoy doing the work, cleaning up the mess, going away or just going about my business knowing that my faithful little oven is going to cook the food I left with it. My little oven has not let me down. A few Sundays ago I even did something that I wasn't sure if it would work out or not. I made this bread that morning and it needed to rise in the loaf pans for like 45 minutes to an hour before cooking. I didn't have time for that before we went to church. So I did every thing up to that point, put the loaves in the oven to do their rising and set the delayed start. When I opened the door as we returned home after the church service, the glorious smell of fresh bread just slapped me in the face. I was so pleased.

I'm getting off track. I'm not here to talk to you about the features of my appliances. I want to share this recipe with you so that you can make this if you are interested. Bear in mind that I got this recipe over the phone from my mother in law (bless her heart, that woman is like the perfect combination of "drive you crazy" and "love you to death"). Maybe it's the proofreader in me (though heaven knows those skills have been out to lunch for some time now) but it bugs me to not have an orderly, well-thought-out recipe. And I don't have that. I just kind of have notes. So I'm just going to throw it at you and trust that you are going to understand it and not complain that it's not written the way Betty Crocker would have done it.

Stuffed Cabbage

2 lbs ground beef
2 cups cooked rice
1 large onion
2 eggs
salt and pepper and other seasonings of your choice
kielbasa sausage
1 can sauerkraut, drained
1 large can tomato juice
1 lead of cabbage
tomato sauce

Combine the uncooked ground beef, rice, chopped onion, eggs, and seasonings and mix together very well. Stuff this mixture into your cabbage leaves and place in a deep casserole dish.

(My MIL told me to put the leaves in boiling water
for a minute and then rinse them with
cold water to make them more pliable.)

Once you get all your stuffed cabbages arranged nicely in your pan, spread the drained sauerkraut over the top of them. (I thought as I did this today that next time I might use two cans of kraut because I really like it---but it would require a larger dish because this really fills up a 13x9 casserole type baking dish) Next, slice your kielbasa into pieces, however you want them to be. Maybe bite-sized. Now combine the tomato juice and the tomato sauce. This is not an exact science...

(we are all learning how much Bell hates science, aren't we?)

...and you can use more or less. I didn't use all of the tomato juice and I used about 16 oz of tomato sauce. Pour this over everything that is in your dish. Put it in a 350 oven for two to three hours.

(It drives me crazy to not have an exact time
for cooking when sharing a recipe,
but don't be distressed. Just check on it
and get it out before it is burned up.
I don't know if it should be covered or not.
I put mine in UNcovered
and if that was a mistake,
I'll let you know.)

This will be a great meal for a cold February evening. Now I can go to piano lessons and do a little running around town and come home to be slapped in the face by the smell of cooking supper.
I just love that.

Oh how I wish
you could see Superboy
dancing beside me
as he listens to
The Hustle.
I told you
the music really helps
create a mood for this post.

Have you been listening to it?
I didn't add the theme song from the show Alice.
Do you wish I had?
Do you now feel like telling me to kiss your grits?

Disclaimer:
I kind of feel like I am sending you subliminal messages. Drink Coke. If you turned on the music (as your were told to you), you have heard the little Hustle back up singers saying every now and then "Do it." Drink Coke. I didn't mean to send you subliminal messages or mess with your mind in any way. Drink Coke. You are perfectly free to disregard any and everything I say here on this blog. Drink Coke. That's kind of been the understanding all along. Drink Coke. So don't feel compelled to go buy the ingredients and make this. Drink Coke. If you are receiving subliminal messages, I'm giving you permission to ignore them. Drink Coke. Don't do what you are being told. Drink Coke. Be your own person. Drink Coke. Do your own thing. Drink Coke. Be happy. Drink Coke. Okay?

Man, I am suddenly so thirsty.

Don't Fear the Cowbell

Just sitting here by the waterfront in Italy and I thought I would drop you a line. Never thought my little blog pity party would get me an overnight ticket to the land of pasta....


And it didn't. That's okay. I'm not prepared for a spur of the moment international trip. I don't even have my passport.
Yesteday turned out to be a decent day for a Monday. I felt much better after griping to you, dear reader. Thanks for listening. Let me review the day with you: I slept in and had a slow morning with the babes. Did three chapters of the much hated science. (I've always hated science---I'm left-handed, right-brained, you figure it out) Did the required amount of schooling. Talked on the phone with one of my favorite people who I rarely talk with and enjoyed that very much. Did laundry. Worked on the potty training with good results. Made supper--sausage and potato casserole, green beans and crescent rolls. Did science experiment from text with whole family. Ironed clothes. Watched movie with husband. Went to bed. And here I am today, clothed and in my right mind.

I have really had these creative juices flowing lately and no where to plug them in. I don't have the time to write right now and that's what I would love to throw myself in to doing. I'm going to have to figure out a way to work on that. Above my computer hangs a quote by Robert Hass: "Take the time to write. you can do your life's work in half an hour a day." While I really like that quote and it's a good thing for me to read, I can't help thinking every time that I read the words "your life's work" that my children are that. No novel or collection of poetry could ever compare to the masterpieces of these beautiful people God is developing ---in which I play a part. But I do like that quote and I need to just start working on my writing and stop thinking "someday." The way things go with people in my family tree, by the time "someday" gets here, my brain will not be firing on all cylinders.

But in the mean time....I think I need another project. Something for my hands to do. I did that one cross-stitch in the fall and so enjoyed working on that. Hadn't done one of those in years. It's good to have something for your hands to do. Charlotte Mason says kids should be working on handiwork every afternoon. And in the winter, I do think everyone needs "a project." And I do have all the supplies for my next big cross stitch piece. I bought it in the fall when I thought I'd be able to finish two project before Christmas for gifts. As it turned out, I barely finished the first one (it was a Christmas gift for my mother-in-law). This other one is a actually a pretty Christmas verse with a border, won't be hard to make. And then once I get it made I can decide if I am going to keep it for myself or give it as a gift. I'll try to find a link to it on-line somewhere so you can see what it is I will be working on.

In other news---
Last night while cleaning up the kitchen I had one of those music channels on Direct TV on. I like those. My hubby always puts it on the 1940's and while I do enjoy that music, sometimes it's just not appropriate for the mood. So I had switched it over to more lively stuff and was enjoying it immensely. I must have had it on the 1970's channel (because I think that's when this song is from) and Blue Oyster Cult's "Don't Fear the Reaper" came on. And I just laughed myself silly saying every few seconds "I need more cowbell!" My kids, as is often the case, had no idea what I was talking about. You may not either. And here I am, referring to Saturday Night Live again, when I must insist that I do not now nor have I ever been a fan of that show or watched it purposefully. Don't think I've ever actually sat down and watched a whole show. I've been looking and looking for the Cowbell skit with Christopher Walken from SNL. Can't be found. If you have ever seen this, perhaps you can appreciate it. If not, I'm sorry to have wasted your time. Just know that I got SUCH a laugh out of that last night. And you know me. I love to laugh. Here's a snippet.




Thanks for your nice comments, by the way, dear readers. I don't always remember to publish them, but I do always read them and I so enjoy hearing from you.

Carry on with you day. You are dismissed.