Hanging up my hack license

Swimmer girl turns 16 today. We are very excited for her - but not as excited as she is, of course. Among all the other things that come with turning 16, she will soon have her driver's license.

And for me, that means my taxi-driver days will finally draw to a close after more than a quarter-century of commission.   In those years, I have hauled my babies and toddlers and children and adolescents (and their friends) to every place they needed and wanted to go. I have put over 250,000 miles on four cars in the process.  We've eaten, spilled, upchucked; changed diapers and clothes; laughed, cried and argued and fussed in my mom-taxis.  We've had a few roadside breakdowns and a couple chats with policemen and troopers,  but thankfully no accidents with a baby or child on board.

If you're a young mom reading this, I can promise you this:  the years and miles will fly by. Your taste in music will adapt to theirs, and vice-versa.   We have explored the full extent of the radio dial, tuning in and out of country, jazz, hip-hop, Christian and dabbled in rap and alternative.  Classic rock is our shared language.  We've belted out southern rock together, argued over who-sang-that-song, and deciphered lyrics more times than I can count.   Looking back, I think we were blessed to not have built-in DVD players and portable DS players at our disposal.  Yes, we had our share of backseat territory disputes and petty squabbles borne out of boredom.  But in the close confines of the car, you have a captive audience - just unplug them from the electronics occasionally and you might be surprised by what they confide in you on an otherwise silent ride.

I have cemented my relationship with my adolescent children just by sitting in the driver's seat - many deep, heart- and soul-searching conversations with each child have taken place in the car, and most of them started out as nothing more than a ride home from school or church, or a quick jaunt to town, just mom and kid. 

So enjoy your taxi driver status while it lasts - because it doesn't last forever.

Happy -and safe - travels,


P.S. - Happy birthday, baby girl.  One pink velvet cake coming up!

Birthday Week: Basking in the aftermath

After all three birthday cakes were consumed (a big thank you to Mr. Official's co-workers who helped us with that last hurdle) and the special cake plates and servers were put away, I had one remaining loose end:  take middle child back to the store to swap out some shorts he got.  Bad me, I bought soccer shorts instead of basketball shorts.  Who knew?

While he was looking for satisfactory replacements, I wandered around the home section and what to my wondering eyes did appear, but a miniature....no, not a sleigh or any tiny reindeer.  Christmas has taken over Hobby Lobby already, but not at Marshall's - at least not yet.

It was even better than that.

It was....

a miniature cake pan!

Meet the baby pan

This pan is almost 8 inches tall but only 3 3/4 inches across, compared to the typical cake pan, which is 2 inches tall and 8 inches wide.  Almost completely reverse proportions.  See why I was so excited?

See how tall and small it is?

No?

Really?

Keep reading...maybe you'll catch the cake pan fever.

When I saw it, I snatched it off the shelf before anyone else could.  (And I had some women eye-balling it as I strolled by.  Sorry ladies - I saw it first.)

This is quite possibly the cutest cake pan ever.  And it was a whopping $5.99.

The bottom comes out, but it's not a springform cheesecake pan - I have a set of those, of course... 

The cheesecake trio

What a fun time I can have now, trying my hand at some old-fashioned chiffon cakes and other recipes that need the taller shape.

Angelfood...yum

And I can test a small batch of batter without worrying about who's going to eat all that cake, like I do with my big ol' angelfood tube pan.

I bet I know what you're thinking.

Because I'm thinking it too.

Given that this is only a sampling of my collection of cake pans, and does not count all the square and rectangle, metal and glass cake and jelly roll pans, or my (rather extensive) collection of cupcake tins and silicon liners (big and small, I got 'em all), I think I need to find a Baker's Anonymous meeting and go introduce myself.

"Hi, my name is Terry and I really like to bake."

Yeah, I'll get right on that - just as soon as I decide if I've got a submission-worthy recipe for this:

Oh and yes, in case you're wondering...the birthday boy found some shorts that will come down to his knees.  Everyone came home happy.

Happy caking,

Recipe of the Week: Saving the Turtle (Cake)

Dana Carvey in Master of Disguises

Turtle cake is:

a. an enigma,
b. a conundrum,
c. a non sequitur,
or
d.  all of the above.

Let's go with d: Turtle cake is not shaped like a turtle.  It isn't even tinted green.  It was not created by nor served at the Ancient and Honorable Order of Turtles. (Like Dana Carvey, it may not even be turtley enough for the Turtle Club.  Uhhh, you'd have to see the movie to get the line, and it's about the only memorable line in the movie so I'm not recommending a viewing.) 

Turtle meat is not an ingredient in the cake and absolutely no turtles were harmed in the making of this cake.

Who really knows why the Hoopers thought calling a chocolate/caramel/pecan candy a "turtle" would make it appealing.  But strangely enough, their plan worked out well and most any confection that combines these three ingredients is now bestowed with the name "turtle" in its title.

What I do know is that turtle cake is decadent and delicious.   It's kind of like German chocolate cake with more gooey-ness and no coconut.  And it's fairly easy to make, as cakes go.  Our first exposure came from - you guessed it - an Oklahoma friend - -the same one who gave me this delicious chocolate chip cookie recipe .

And Middle Child wanted a turtle cake for his birthday last week.

But this is also a story of rescuing this poor cake from the jaws of disaster.  It started off innocently:  just cake mix, eggs, oil and water, plus the filling (caramels and evaporated milk.)

About an hour later, I pulled the finished cake from the oven and sprinkled milk chocolate chips over it, hoping to shortcut the frosting step since Swimmer Girl was going to be late for a dentist appointment otherwise.

On my way out the door, I instructed the Birthday Boy to GENTLY smear the chocolate chips when they softened.  Key word:  GENTLY.  He called me and said the chips were not smearing.  I advised him to microwave it for 30 seconds and try again.  Key words:  30 SECONDS. No. more. 

This is what I came home to find.

It actually looked worse in real-life.  Like crusty moon craters.

 Fortunately, this cake is forgiving and will adapt to a soaked-in glaze frosting. So I carefully scraped off the chocolate mess down to the cake.

Poor thing had looked like it had third-degree burns all over the top.

And placed said mess in the double boiler with some cocoa, butter, milk and powdered sugar.  Heated to boiling while vigorously whisking it to something fairly smooth, then poured it back over the cake to achieve a fudgy glaze.

Thank heaven (and mom!) for double boilers!

What lesson did I learn? Do not entrust my male family members with frosting the cake.  They do many, MANY things well, but making confectioneries are not their forte.

Happy birthday, birthday boy!

I also learned that turtle cake is just as delicious as I remembered.

Turtle Cake

Cake Ingredients:
1 box German chocolate cake mix
3 eggs
1/2 cup oil
1 1/3 cups water

Filling Ingredients:
1 package caramels, unwrapped
4 ounces evaporated milk
6 ounces semi-sweet chocolate chips

Directions:
Have 9x13 pan greased and ready.  Preheat oven to 350.  Mix cake ingredients together at low speed for 30 seconds, then at medium speed for two minutes.  Pour half of cake batter into pan and bake for 20 minutes.

While the bottom of the cake is baking, melt caramels and milk in heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium-low heat, stirring frequently.  As soon as cake springs back to touch, pour caramel mixture over the top, sprinkle with chips and then top with remaining cake batter. Continue baking for 20-25 minutes or until top layer is done.  Frosting is optional.  (Gilding the lily and all that.)

Note:  in my rendition, I saved the chips for the top of the cake.  When salvaging it, I made a glaze similar to the boiled frosting I use on chocolate sheet cake.

Happy baking and rescuing,

Loose ends: Inch by Inch, Yard by Yard

This week, time ran through my fingers like sand - the tighter I tried to hold onto it, the faster it went.  The remainder of our summer vacation is now measured in days, not weeks.

Swimmer Girl was home for a week between church camp and a mission campaign trip.  She heads out tomorrow with steel-toed work shoes, bug spray and sun screen, Ibuprofen and lots of scrunchies (because it's going to be hot and messy and showers will be few and far between), and a confirmation that her tetanus booster is up-to-date.

We celebrated middle child's birthday a day late on Thursday night and we'll celebrate my mother-in-law's birthday and oldest child's birthday with a combined cookout meal tonight.  (Two more cakes, coming up!)

Not many (okay, none, nada, not any) loose ends were actually tied off this week. But look what came in the mail on Thursday.

The fabric for the chair cushions!  Fabric.com is awesome - they were less than half the price of everybody else for this fabric, and I got free shipping. 

No more excuses - I have the new foam cushions and the fabric and I'm pretty sure the staple gun works just like it always has.  Now to find an hour or two to rip off the old fabric and padding, and re-do them. 

Happy Saturday!

Recipe of the Week: Cheesecake Bars

This is another recipe from another Oklahoma friend. (Good friends and good cooks, all of them!) Dana made this for a progressive dinner at the holidays many years ago, and it was love at first bite.  I have lost her original recipe but not the memory of what it tasted like, and I've tried many times to re-create it - this comes pretty close, I think. Or maybe it's totally different and she'll see this and l send me the real recipe and then I can make them both. Either way, we all win, right?

Sorta-like-Dana's Cheesecake Bars

Crust Ingredients:
1/3 cup brown sugar, packed
1/3 cup slightly softened butter
1 cup flour, sifted
1/3 cup finely chopped nuts (I like pecans, but walnuts are good too)

Filling Ingredients:
3, 8-ounce packages cream cheese, softened (you can substitute some or all low-fat or no-fat cream cheese)
3/4 cup white sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
8 tablespoons buttermilk  (or 7 tablespoons heavy cream, half and half or milk + 1 tablespoon lemon juice)

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350.  Line 9x13 pan with parchment paper (you can serve from the pan, but this makes it easy to lift them out and cut them into squares for serving.)

In a bowl, cream butter and brown sugar. Add flour and work in well.  Add chopped nuts and blend; press into bottom of pan and bake for 12-15 minutes.  Let cool slightly.

For filling, beat cream cheese and slowly add sugar until it's blended in. Add eggs one at a time, mixing well after each. Add vanilla and buttermilk or cream/milk and lemon juice and mix well.  Pour over crust and bake for 25 minutes - do not overbake; you want the filling to remain creamy and moist.  Let cool completely and cut into squares.  Makes 18 cookie-size servings or 36 bite-size squares.

I like serving these with slightly sweetened fresh fruit (strawberries, raspberries, blueberries or cherries), or set out a DIY topping bar with an array of sauces (chocolate and caramel are good), plus fruit and whipped toppings.


P.S. - A very happy 23rd birthday to our middle child.  One turtle cake coming up just for you! (Maybe I'll post the recipe to it one day soon, too!)

Let them eat cake.

And if it's your birthday, you really should eat cake!

It's time for the annual cake-a-thon.  It started with a lemon-berry 4th of July cake, then continued  last Saturday when I made a red velvet sheet cake, thanks to the recipe I spied on Pioneer Woman's blog. (I opted for traditional cream cheese frosting - I previously tried the "best-ever-frosting" she recommended and found it just so-so.  Maybe it's just me.)  Next Monday, I'll make a second red one to take to Secret Sisters.

It's much, much redder than it looks here.

Wednesday, I'm making a turtle cake for my "baby boy" who is turning a whopping 23.

Saturday is Memaw Katie's birthday. And that means...yes....another cake is coming up!

Sunday is our oldest son's birthday (he turns 26). As soon as he tells me what kind of cake he'd like, I'll make it, too.

I'm so glad I got the half-bowl and beater-thingy for my Kitchen-Aid. Looks like it's going to get broken in good this year!

Happy baking!

Moving: Out of my comfort zone

Moving, or--to be more specific--the process of buying and selling homes, induces high anxiety in me. Like most people, I've always taken home ownership seriously - it's a big commitment, and shouldn't be entered into lightly. But beyond that, my view of real estate transactions was warped by an unusual and thoroughly unnerving situation about two decades ago.

Two of our volunteer fence builders

Our first home was beginner's luck, and we stumbled happily through the process.  We built a 1,200 square-foot house and it felt huge compared to the apartments and rentals we called home before it.  We were blessed by family and friends who pitched in to help us paint it, clean it and move in.   We sodded and fenced the yard ourselves.   (Well, the "boys" did the fencing, but I planted sod, too.)

All in all, it was truly a great starter home. Our oldest son was about two when we moved in; his baby brother came along the next year.

After a few years we felt we were quickly outgrowing the space, so we listed our sweet little home for sale. We fell hard for a two-story Tudor-style home on a wooded acre lot. With a contract on our home, we put in a contingency offer on this house and confidently assumed we would close on both homes on the same day in late February, moving out of one and into the other with minimal fuss.  What could possibly go wrong?

The nightmare began when we were midway through closing on our home.  The routine survey was complicated by unexpected flood zone issues as the Corps of Engineers maps had been updated since we built. The buyers bolted, the second home closing was canceled, and we had to turn back on the utilities and move back into our home.   Blindsided doesn't begin to describe how we felt as we reeled through the days and weeks and months that followed.  We finally obtained a letter from the Corps of Engineers confirming our property was not in a flood zone.  By then, we had lived in the house for 9 years, and I was scared witless at the mere suggestion of selling and moving.

In the meantime, the baby (swimmer girl) came along and we were truly squeezed for space.  Shortly after baby girl's first birthday, at the urging of a very conscientious and calming real estate agent (and friend), we successfully sold our little house after a single showing she arranged.  She made it easy, but I couldn't assume it would be successful.  In fact, I refused to breathe a sigh of relief until we handed over the keys.  Fortunately our agent had located a house for us to rent after closing, or we might have been temporarily homeless.   Yes, I was really that fatalistic.

We built and moved into our second home six months later, but in less than three years, we found ourselves moving again, this time back to Tennessee. I house-hunted for two weeks and settled on the house we're in now.  We successfully transitioned everyone and everything from one state to another just before school started, but the entire process was nerve-wracking.  Even though no missteps or mishaps occurred, I still couldn't relax until the ink was dry.

And so here we've stayed ever since - in part because of my fear of moving (and buying and selling) again.  This house is our home, but it is my least-favorite house we've ever owned.  For whatever reason, seeing our old house for sale was the catalyst that overcame my paranoia and propelled me down the path of house hunting.

The house we first fell for has suddenly fallen into our laps.  It's big, but not too big, and it has almost every feature on my wishlist.  Big kitchen with pantry, open floor plan, lots of closets, walk-in attic storage, soaring ceilings, lots of windows and a wraparound porch.   The backyard needs a fence, but has a nice big deck, storage shed, and room for my greenhouse and "outhouse"shed - I bet my neighbor will be so sad to see it--and us--disappear from his daily view, as we will him.

The "outhouse" shed in my garden.

The garage on the new house will hold our vehicles and the boat, and I can introduce my Louisiana iris and pond plants to the natural pond in the front yard to greet visitors and passers-by.  Truth be told, the place is a gardener's delight, with rose bushes around the porch, and hints of perennials greening up among the spring bulbs already flowering.  We will be surrounded by horses, cattle, sheep, poultry, and even emus.  A few strategically placed trees will screen the few neighboring houses from view.

I want this house bad enough to steel myself for a month of emotional ups and downs as we run the steeplechase course of paperwork, inspections and appraisals.  Please hang with me during this process.  I'll try to skip the boring details and share only the fun and instructive highlights of our experience as the journey progresses.

And maybe this time around, I will be finally be able to relax and enjoy the move.

Happy moving on,


P.S. A shout-out happy birthday to my dad.  May he blow out all the candles on his German chocolate cake and all his wishes come true!

Recipe of the Week: My Favorite Chocolate Cake

It's my birthday, so I'm not making this cake today. (I think there's some law about making your own birthday cake.) But it is my all-time favorite chocolate layer cake recipe. The fine folks at Hershey's know chocolate and this recipe demonstrates that perfectly. Do we need an excuse to bake a cake? If you do, and you want to impress a birthday boy or girl, or dinner guests, give this recipe a try.

Hershey's Perfectly Chocolate Cake

Ingredients
2 cups sugar
3/4 cup Hershey's cocoa
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
2 eggs
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 cup boiling water
1 3/4 cup flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup milk
2 teaspoons vanilla

Directions:
Heat oven to 350. Grease and flour two 9-inch round baking pans.

Stir together sugar, flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add eggs, milk, oil and vanilla; beat on medium speed of mixer for two minutes. Stir in boiling water; batter will be thin. Pour batter into prepared pans.

Bake 30 to 35 minutes or until wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool ten minutes; remove from pans to wire racks. Cool completely. Frost with your choice of frosting (cream cheese, chocolate buttercream, seven-minute or coconut pecan frostings are all good pairings.)

Happy baking,

Happy birthday, baby blog!

A year ago today, I launched the Domestic Dilettante with this post.  In the 365 days that followed, I changed up my blog background and header five times.  And I found - more days than not - something to say:  190 posts and counting.  (Big surprise there, huh?)

If only I could settle on a permanent background and image...

It's been a fun year of learning the ins and outs of blogging.  If you are one of my lurker/readers (I know who MOST of you are), I will tell you what I wished for when I blew out that virtual candle below; hopefully it won't jinx me. 

It was two wishes, actually:

1. That you enjoy reading about my escapades and tidbits of half-baked wit and wisdom; and 
2. More of you will show your "faces" here.  Or at least comment on a post now and then.  (I love hearing from you, too!)

More seriously, my biggest wish is for another year of God's grace and mercy and wisdom to pour down on all of us; for His help and comfort in our times of need; and that He will provide us with opportunities to help others in the coming days and weeks and months.

Happy blogging,

Recipe of the Week: Broccoli-Raisin Salad

Our annual recipe booklets - cute, huh?

This recipe is among my very favorite salad recipes, and the dressing is the same one I use for regular coleslaw.  This recipe is made extra-special by the fact it came from one of my past Secret Sisters at Highland Heights.  

Susan usually makes this salad - and many other yummy foods - for us when we converge on her house for an annual paperback book and DVD swap.  It was also the recipe she submitted for our 2008 recipe book, which focused on salads.  (This year's book will be all about brunches, and promises to be full of exceptionally delicious recipes, too!)

Susan's Broccoli-Raisin Salad

Ingredients:
2 cups broccoli, chopped
12 strips bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled
1 red onion chopped
1 cup raisins
1 cup sunflower seeds

Dressing:
1 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar

Directions:
Mix broccoli, bacon, onion, raisins and sunflower seeds.  Mix dressing together separately and pour over broccoli mixture; toss to coat.  Serves 8.

I have doubled (and even quintupled) this recipe for large gatherings; in fact, I made it for my mother-in-law's 70th birthday party last summer, and it got rave reviews.  If you're making it ahead, I recommend mixing the dry ingredients together in one bowl and blend the dressing in a separate container. Refrigerate both until ready to serve; combine and toss just before serving.

Impeccable timing

I bought my 2004 Toyota Highlander six years next month. Practically every day for those six years, this vehicle has been started at least twice a day - some days many more times than that.  Conservatively speaking, I have inserted the key, turned it over and had it roar to life without so much as a cough, hiccup, burp or sputter at least 4,000-5,000 times.

We took the girl and four of her closest friends to a weekend getaway in Pigeon Forge to celebrate her 15th birthday.  So all weekend we piled (stuffed is more like it) seven adult-sized people in my trusty little SUV and scooted around Pigeon Forge, up to the The Sinks (yes, pictures coming) to jump and swim; we visited restaurants, shopping, and everywhere else we decided we wanted to go.

This morning, we gathered all five teenagers up for one last excursion:  to one of the local pancake places for breakfast before heading home.  We packed in our bags and ourselves, and I put the key in the ignition and turned it, just like always.

And it went "click, click, click."

Long story short, the battery had conked out.  But it couldn't have happened at a better time - we still had access to the cabin, had a second car to go get a new battery, and I have an awesome husband who comes prepared with tools and the automotive skills to get the battery out, find an auto supply store, and replace the battery lickety split.  We still had time for the obligatory pancake breakfast (it's a Smoky Mountain thing) and made it home by mid-afternoon.

I'm thankful it didn't happen when we were all out and about (it would have been especially inconvenient if it had died while we were swimming yesterday afternoon); and I'm extra-thankful my husband was willing to risk his sanity to help me chaperon five teenage girls this weekend.  He's my hero!

Around here, we celebrate birthdays - with or without you!

Today is oldest son's birthday and it was also his first week in a new job.  Hooray for both of these milestones!  It's definitely time to celebrate!

He had other plans for this evening, but that didn't stop us from enjoying a celebratory meal of  Chicken Bryan (just like Carrabba's, but a word to the wise if you try the recipe:  ease up on the sun-dried tomatoes and amount of goat cheese, and layer the basil on the chicken instead of sauteing it.)  I served it with a side of parmesan-garlic noodles, a fresh garden salad, garlic toast, and a honeybun cake.  Even sweeter: we were able to dine on the deck tonight, since it's now finished and sealed for the season.  See whatcha missed, birthday boy?

He turns 25 today.  Or put another way, he's a quarter of a century old (insert evil chuckling here.)  When I was just a few years older than he is now, he made me feel ancient by comparing my age to his freshly minted Kindergarten teacher, Miss Beeson.  (He loved Miss Beeson and everything about Miss Beeson was simply amazing.)  When she celebrated her 24th birthday that year, he rushed home to tell me all about her party (they had cupcakes), and he asked me my age and then looked up at me with his huge brown eyes and said - with complete sincerity - "Wow, mama.  You are REALLY old!"  I've fought the urge to park myself in a rocker ever since.

The isolated thunderstorms were isolated to other parts of the midstate; no rain here today.  Just sultry.  Again.  While my better half and the pooch toiled away on the landscape, I escaped to the air-conditioned indoors and made sure all the classrooms are ready for the start of the third lesson (the flood), which begins tomorrow morning.  Our Summer Bible Vacation (aka all-summer VBS) is now at the halfway point - just 6 more weeks and we'll be wrapping it up.  Wow - it has really flown by quickly! When I got home this afternoon, I ventured out long enough to stain the bench, so it's ready to be parked next to the hot tub and hold our towels once again.

If the weather holds out, tomorrow afternoon will involve another pass through the daylily bed, pulling out the depleted stalks, fertilizing, weeding and mulching as I go.  I made a crockpot of brisket this afternoon, so tomorrow's lunch or dinner is "in the bag," so to speak.

Happy birthday to my "Baby Shea"  (You'll never be too old for me to still call you that, you know!)

Applied Mathematics

Quick!  If a deck has 12 sections and each section contains approximately 12 balusters, and each baluster has 4 sides, what does that equal?

Put away the calculator - if you mentally tallied somewhere around 600, you're close enough. But what it really equals is 6 man (err, woman) hours, 1 now-spent brush, 1 gallon of stain/sealer, 1 big blister where the brush rested in my hand, 3 sweat-bee stings, and countless redwood colored sealer splotches on my feet, which I will wear to show my solidarity for our "oh-no-it's-mono" daughter who is out of commission for a few weeks.  (Word to the wise for health care professionals: even if a teen tests positive for strep, please do a mono test before you give them Amoxicillin.  Amoxicillin and mono don't play nicely together, and the rash is heartbreakingly awful for the patient.)

But back to the deck.  Here are a few before-and-after photos of the deck after I power-washed it and gave it a good scrubbing last weekend.  And of course, nature decided to immediately give us plenty of rain for several days, so that meant waiting out the storms to do anything further. I'm glad we hadn't planned to have anyone over for dinner this week!

As awful as it looks, I'm embarrassed to admit it still looked better than before the power washing.  Oh well...it's what happens when you let three years sneak past you without an annual deck scrubbing and re-touching.  (Snicker..yeah, we'll see if THAT actually happens or not!  Good intentions make great paving stones, and all that.)

Here it is after it's had two coats of deck sealer applied and the balusters and rails all re-coated.  It should be good to go at least until fall or next spring, when it will be time to give it a good cleaning (having a shady deck on the north side of your house in the humid south has a big downside, namely mildew.)  I was so excited to have the project done that I went ahead and re-laid the rug and hauled up the table and chairs - let's hope the thunder rumbling tonight is all bark and no bite.

The grill and the big deck planters will have to wait for some help - from somebody with more upper-body strength and who doesn't have a hernia threatening to pop back out like a Butterball turkey timer.

Now to get the hot tub heating element replaced, the cover scrubbed, the fireplace re-painted and moved back into place and the bench stained and sealed and the deck should carry us through fall and into winter in good shape.  (Looks like I know what we'll be doing this weekend!)

In the interest of equal air time for our animal menagerie, here's a picture of Brice's cat.  Her name is Luci.  Short for Lucifer.  Apparently we're in the hot cat days of summer.  She blends in nicely with the chair, one of her favorite hangouts.

P.S. a shout-out to my mother-in-law, who is celebrating her birthday today - I won't say how old she is.  She's the kind of mother-in-law I hope I can be some day, and every day I'm thankful for the awesome job she did raising my husband.  Hugs and love to Memaw Katie!!!

Happy birthday to my boy

Dear Son,

In 1988, you made your grand entrance into this world.  Even before you were born, you were determined to do things on your own timetable.  You were intractable and impossibly late - a defining characteristic we share.  One of many, I think.  At two weeks past your due date, you gave no signs that you planned to arrive anytime soon, so I begged the doctor to give you your own birthday, instead of risking that you would show up on your older brother's birthday, which is four days past your own.  I am convinced you stood on your hands, scrunched up your chubby face and stubbornly refused to leave the cramped quarters you occupied until there was no other choice.

You were our second baby and second boy, but you were and are uniquely you.  I refused an epidural and you topped the scales at 9 pounds 2 ounces - nearly as big as your brother was and two pounds bigger than your sister who came along later.  When you were born, you were blue and still, and we were paralyzed with fear.  Those first few moments of silence in the delivery room, waiting for you to take a breath, you had the undivided attention of us all.  I've never heard a more wonderful sound than when you finally let loose with a healthy squall.

We have no pictures of your arrival, but it was not second-child-syndrome at work.  In the pre-digital era of the late 80s, we didn't realize the 35 mm camera had no film.  When he discovered what he had done, your daddy tearfully offered to take us all back to the hospital and re-enact your arrival and homecoming.  It would have been like reality TV before there was such a thing.

You were my sleeper.  Once we settled into a routine, you'd nearly always snooze until a civilized hour of the morning, and after your brother's early-morning antics, I was happy for your laid-back approach to mornings.  From the beginning, you and your brother had a push-me-pull-you relationship.  Best friends one minute, all-out guerrilla-style assault warfare the next.  You insisted on rooming together and jumbling up your Lego blocks to create a nighttime obstacle course to your bunk beds.  He outgrew them, you continued to love them, asking for more elaborate sets each birthday and Christmas.

As you sailed through your boyhood, you did everything "big brother" did, but you took things more seriously.  Soccer, skateboarding, snow skiing, you name it.  If he could do it, you could too - only better, longer, faster, harder and more competitively.

For seven years, you enjoyed "baby-of-the-family" status.  You then became possibly the world's most reluctant middle child, a title we still tease you with fifteen years later.  Push-me-pull-you defined your relationship with your baby sister, too.  But I have watched you with her in unguarded moments, and I've seen the gentleness and protectiveness that you tried to hide between a gruff countenance, especially during your teenage years. You are a loyal and protective sibling to your brother and sister, even as you look for ways to needle them.

I love you fiercely, more fiercely than any argument we had from time to time as you grew from boy to man-child.  You are my mirror, you know.  I look at you and I see the parts of me that dared my family to love me as I grew from child to adult, too.   And now you are a grown man.  People will continue to comment on how much you look like your Uncle Nate and your Papaw, but you are--without a doubt--your own man.

And as you stand firmly on the shores of adulthood, your life's path lies ahead of you - you're almost through with college, and I  know God has great things in store for you.  I pray as you move forward, you will listen for His voice and seek His will, and become the faith-filled man He and I see in you.   I wish you many happy returns of this day.

Love,
Your mama


P.S. Stay out of the Turtle Cake until after dinner.

Birthday Week: A Hat Trick

In our family, this week is all about the birthdays.  Younger son was born on July 13, older one on July 17.  In between is Memaw's birthday on the 16th.

That means a week of favorite (fattening) foods, topped off with lots of cake and ice cream.  Guess I should have gotten in a long run this morning...I'm going to need to run every chance I get to burn off all the extra calories these special meals tend to have.

On Saturday, I power washed and scrubbed the deck and got it ready for a fresh coat of stain and water seal.  July is usually a nice dry month, so it seemed a prudent time to plan this project, which requires a few days without rain.  I psyched myself for the early morning start required for this project (I have learned the hard way that I need to get the deck surface finished before the sun gets too high overhead, or the stain will dry too fast and turn out splotchy.)  My forearms and wrists are ready to hand brush the hundreds of balusters and in between each deck board.  Yes, indeed - I am ready, willing and able to tackle this project.

But as nature would have it, we listened to a nice soaking thunderstorm pour down last night, and this week's forecast has rain and more rain on the horizon.  So the deck is washed and ready and I'm ready to get 'er done.  But the table, chairs, fireplace, grill and planters will all have to sit (set?) on the ground a little longer than expected.  Ah well...I and the stain and sealer, roller and brushes are all standing at the ready.  And I'm not going to grumble about the delay; I still remember the drought from a few years' back, and my promise then was to never ever complain about the timing of any rain we get.  All rain is good rain.

While I'm waiting, I can always take the spray paint to the metal items that have chipped and flaked over the past couple years.  And I don't have to worry about watering the plants for a few days (a good thing after paying last month's water bill!)

But we won't be enjoying any birthday dinners al fresco this week...arranging the table and chairs on the lawn would mean everyone's ankles would be covered in chigger bites - that's worse than a birthday paddling!

It's like riding a bike

Hospitality, that is. You can go a long time without having dinner guests, but as soon as you host a few meals for extended family and/or friends, you remember the routine: how much food to make, and what needs to be done in advance, and in what order.

And you quickly begin to remember how little effort it takes to have a lot of fun (also a lot like riding a bike.)

Last night, we had a house full of hungry men and women. Two big pans of lasagna disappeared in a flash, as did bread, salad and dessert: a big, yummy birthday cake from Driver's (now Clayborn Cakes) in Lebanon. They have - hands down - the best coconut cake anywhere. But I digress.

It was really fun to have family sitting around the table, sharing stories and giving each other a hard time about politics. (We're not all exactly on the same page, but that's okay.)

And in case that wasn't enough gratification, now I have a reasonably tidy house to enjoy this weekend, and get next week started off right. A good thing since tomorrow's afternoon is booked solid with meetings, sandwiched in between worship services.

Next Friday will be another fun adventure in hospitality, with my fellow co-teachers and their families coming over for dinner. We finished our 6-month study of Acts and last week the class had a celebration. Now it's the teachers' turn to enjoy our accomplishment.

After that, I'll be turning my attention to getting us ready to head off on spring break. Murrells Inlet (and Myrtle Beach - where all the fun is), here we come!

Hey, sweetheart! Guess what you're getting for your birthday?

On this day, I stop and sing the praises of my mother-in-law for bringing her son (and now my husband) into the world. Thank you for all you did to raise him into the wonderful husband and father he is. You done good, memaw!

And to celebrate his special day, I'm ecstatic to announce that MY NEW FIESTA PLATES ARRIVED!!!! Woohoo! It's almost as good as the year we bought a pitchfork for my birthday. (I picked it out, but still...) I'm doin' the happy dance and waiting on them to finish a quick spin in the dishwasher so I can put them in the cabinet and admire them every time I walk into my kitchen.

Since my sister-in-law's birthday is also this week, we're planning a Friday night get-together, so we can celebrate properly, with a big pan (or two) of lasagna, salad and bread, plus a couple scrumptious desserts just for the birthday sibs.

My tomato and pepper seeds are probably tired of me hovering over them. If they would just grow, I wouldn't have to hover, now would I??? Weather-wise, we are warming up. (Hmmm. I think I should say that with my best Elmer Fudd voice.) By the week's end we might be up to 60 (aka "normal.") Hooray! We weren't able to till the garden last weekend (too wet, and just too cold to be outside for long), so this weekend *might* work. Unless he gets talked into taking the boat out on the lake to see what's biting...

Tonight is the next-to-last Bible Bowl challenge for the 2009/2010 season. Go Highland Heights team: I hope we know the story of Joseph really well!

P.S. to my awesome husband...well, maybe you'll get more than Fiesta plates for your (just-one-year-away-from-the-big-5-0) birthday. XOXOXO

Happy groundhog day to me

I have always shared my birth day with Phil. (You know, the Yankee rodent from Punxsuatawny, Pennsylvania, who almost always sees his shadow.) Yesterday was so predictable - Phil saw his shadow, of course. I on the other hand, did not. At least not until much later in the day. So I am sorry that Pennsylvania is going to have six more weeks of winter, but I'm staking my claim on an early spring here in middle Tennessee.

To celebrate the day, my family took me to Maggiano's Little Italy on West End (or as Tom-Tom insists on spelling it as "W End Ave" and won't even help you find it if you don't. How do you pronounce that, anyway?) where they have, among other things, awesome bread. Maggiano's food is good, their bread is awesome. Balsamic vinegar and olive oil to dip it in, divine.

Giftwise, I scored big. The final Dutch oven choice was a 4-quart Lodge L-series in apple green. And two tickets to see Josh Turner at the Grand Ol' Opry. (We've lived her too long to keep saying "we really should go check out the Opry one of these days...")

I'm still feeding my sourdough starter, faithfully each day, using bottled water since ours is heavily chlorinated. Once the starter is ready (and my Dutch oven has landed), I will start a series of bread-baking tests, comparing 4 techniques:

1. classic sourdough
2. 5-minutes-a-day-Artisan Bread
3. NYT no-knead bread recipe
4. My mom's "Simple Crusty White Bread" recipe, which involves creating a starter early in the day or the night before.

If I get really ambitious, I'll take pictures of each, as well as notes on what I did, what we liked about each, and what adjustments I might make in future batches (except my mom's, because hers is already perfect ;o)