Bits for Sunday, October 26, 2008

I just finished some research for the Bible study I’m writing, which means I’ve spent about the last 3 hours camped out in the Kings and Chronicles. My head is spinning with my attempts to keep straight the kings of the divided nation of Israel…which ones were good…which ones were evil…which ones converted from good to evil or evil to good depending on who they married…exhausting. How did I ever make it through Old Testament Survey with an A?

Speaking of “how did I ever?”…it became very apparent to me this week that I’m getting old, y’all!! Friday night I went to game night, which is a two-or-three-times-a-year gathering of a few friends from my high school class. We hang out, eat dinner, play games (a.k.a. I learn to be a graceful loser) and talk about the good old days – which may or may not have actually been good. Until this week, game nights have always been at my house, but this time someone else hosted, so I got a field trip to Indy.

Side note…fell in love with the Garmin that the person I rode with had in his car. I think I could perhaps learn to love driving if I had a Garmin. It was truly the most amazing little thing I’d ever seen. Must put that on the “to buy” list.

Anyway, so we went to Indy, played our games, had our food, relived the good old days – we even all wore our senior shirts and took goofy pictures. But it has been a while since I stayed out that late. I got home about 2:15 in the morning. While it’s not been all that long since I’ve stayed up until 2, it has been a while since I tried to operate a motor vehicle at that hour. WHEW! Talk about getting close to God in prayer! And to think I did that days in a row in college…and still got up at 6:30 in the morning…and didn’t believe in naps. Yes, it’s official…I’m old.

None of that has to do with what I was going to tell you today, though. Some of you have already heard this story, so I do apologize if it’s a repeat for you. (Although I have to say…you’ll probably laugh at me again just like you did the first time.) I said I wasn’t going to tell this story until I was forty. And I’m not forty. But I have developed enough of a sense of humor during the remainder of this week that I think I can handle telling the story anyway.

Our office has had a bit of an issue with temperature regulation this week. And by “bit of an issue” – I mean that it registered over 80 on more than one occasion. I prefer the office to be about 60, and that’s when I wear short sleeves! I’ve moved to winter clothing now, so even 60 is hot for me. Needless to say, after several hours of the 80 degree business, my face was sliding off, my clothes were sticking to me, I was grumpy, and one day, extremely sick to my stomach.

On Wednesday the heat mostly melted my brain cells. I was aware that my mind was not operating at full speed. I was aware that my creativity levels were at an all-time dangerous low. I went to Bible study with full awareness of all these facts. Sigh. If only I had heeded this knowledge with the exercise of common sense.

That night we studied the Beatitudes. The group numbered about a dozen people – the largest group yet since I’ve started going. Please be aware that in this group was one of my former teachers and a host of people that I’m finding to be new friends. We opened our Bibles and settled in for a night of learning and discussion.

The Bible study leader began by saying some scholars call the Beatitudes the “Ordination Address to the Twelve.” The group (minus me) discussed what that might mean. Once that had been discussed to a good extent, he went on to say that others call it the “Magna Carta of the Kingdom.” I listened as they picked around at that phrase, trying to recall its definition from history classes. Finally, he said that it’s sometimes known as the “Manifesto of the King.” What could that mean?

You have to understand how much I detest silence. The longer it goes, the more uncomfortable I become. Apparently the rest of the group was exhausted from the last question because no one answered. So I, in all my melted-brain-cell wisdom, piped up rather loudly, “Isn’t a manifesto the list of passengers on an airplane?”

WHAT!?!?

Even as I heard the words exiting my mouth, I realized that was possibly the dumbest thing I’ve said since I’ve turned 30. Everyone laughed (as well they should have) and I turned 57 shades of red. Someone kindly informed me that the word I was thinking of was actually “manifest.” Ohhhhhhhh.

Airplanes in the New Testament? Seriously, Rebekah!!! I buried my head in my Bible for the rest of the study and managed to not burst into tears until I was safely hidden in the dark car for the ride home.

It is because of this rather recent inability to command my own native language that I’m hesitant to move past actually researching for this Bible study I started writing…and putting words on paper. But then again, it might end up being the world’s first comedy study. They always said in writing classes that to be good, you have to be cutting edge. Hmmmmm….

Commercial-isms

Our office reached a temperature of approximately 480 degrees today. My face slid off and my clothing stuck to me. One should not sweat when one sits in a chair and stares at a computer. One also should not overuse the phrase "one should" too much because it sounds stuffy.

So, in an attempt to console myself from the heat, I sent a message to Rachel (who also works in my office): "It's hot."

Immediately after I sent it, I thought "It's hot, and YOU need a pool." If you don't live in Indiana, surrounded by Watson's commercials, that means nothing to you. But the funny part was, her response to me was "and you need a pool." This little banter led us to discuss the best of the most annoying commercials. Here were some of our faves. Please let me know if I've missed any.

My current most hated commercial is for the place where you're supposed to send all your unwanted gold, silver, and platinum, and they'll rush you a check. Leno made fun of that one the other night, so I know I'm not the only one annoyed by it. "I had no idea my gold jewelry was worth so much money." Really?? Then you probably shouldn't own it!

While it did accomplish its purpose in getting into my head and staying there, I can't stomach the Empire Today song anymore. When that commercial comes on, I risk life, limb, and injured cats to get to the remote before the song begins to play. Because once it does, it will never be gone from my head for days.

Another local favorite (so sorry for those of you who won't be able to fully appreciate this one) for us was the Ace Hardware song - sung by the actual local store crew.

Hadn't seen this one for a LONG time, but not long ago I saw the "HELP! I've fallen and I can't get up!" commercial. I really thought that one had run its course, but apparently more people have fallen, so it plays on.

You know the Wendy's commercial? "It's waaaaaaaaaay better than fast food?" I unfortunately noticed the first time I heard it that she really says "It's awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay better than fast food." Away?? Away from what? And now I just can't handle it at all.

Having written all of this now, I realize that it probably seems I do nothing but sit and watch TV all day and that is certainly not the case. It's just that there are only about 10 commercials in the rotation, so after an hour of TV, you've seen them all 4 times!!!

But you gotta tell me - what have I forgotten?

Retreat Pictures

Below this post is the full story behind the pictures...

This was where I had my overnight personal retreat this year. The Farmstead Inn is a great place to stay. Very clean, very quiet - and yet very BIG! It's just down the road from the Shipshewana flea market and all the little shops. And look what a beautiful travel day I had when I left! :)

My room had a couch (which was also a hide-a-bed, but I didn't need it for that). That's where I sacked out to read my book.


And of course - what good is a retreat without a place to journal??

My suite (please remember that I virtually never get to travel, so when I do, I like to treat myself to a nice space) had a kitchenette, which was very helpful, since I elected to not leave the hotel once I got there.

The famous silverware. (Explanation in post below.)

My free coffee from the lobby!!

Bits for Sunday, October 19, 2008

I told you last week I would fill you in on my time at my spiritual retreat during my vacation. Last year was the first time I ever went on such an adventure, having been prompted to do so by something I read in a book. It was such a pivotal experience for me that I wanted to do it again this year…and every year. There’s something about getting away from home, responsibilities, contact with the outside world…and settling down for a concentrated time with God.

I’ll admit this year I felt very underprepared for the retreat. Last year I spent about four months planning it – choosing a topic to study, purchasing a book to read, planning everything from my meals to events, and garnering a prayer team to back me up while I was gone. This year I grabbed a book off the shelf at the last minute, and as I began the drive to the hotel, I felt as though I had no idea what would happen and that somehow my lack of preparation would lead to disappointment in the way the retreat would unfold.

But of course – God wasn’t about to let it be that bad.

This year my retreat was at the Farmstead Inn, located up in Shipshewana. I’d stayed there before and knew it would be a good, quiet place to get away. Halfway to my destination (as I fervently prayed against detours, which were last year’s headache), I realized I’d taken a microwave dinner to eat, but I’d failed to pack any silverware. Last year I’d planned ahead enough that I remembered all those sorts of things. Last year I’d even packed chocolate covered strawberries. There’s a big gap between hand dipped strawberries and grabbing a chicken nugget microwave dinner at the final grocery store on the way out of town.

I arrived at the hotel detour-free (yay!) and checked in, still kicking myself about the silverware dilemma. I had resolved to locate a coffee stirrer somewhere on the premises and use it to stab the macaroni and kernels of corn. (Hardly makes me eligible for Survivor, but it does show some attempts at resourcefulness.) The lady at the desk handed me my room card and sent me on my merry way – down a lonnnnnnng corridor to the room at the farthest possible location from the front desk. Oh – and it was on the first floor. I walked in and looked around…and said “Well, God, last year I had a second floor room in view of the lobby, which made me feel very safe. I guess this year You think I’ve grown up enough to be in the far reaches of the universe with ground floor windows.” I’ve watched way too much CSI and SVU. I quoted the only Psalms I could remember about lying down and sleeping in peace, and headed back to the car for my stuff. (Incidentally, I made it entirely in one trip with the luggage…for those of you who accuse me of packing for a month for an overnight trip.)

Of course the first joy of any hotel room is investigating it, so I scampered about opening drawers, CLOSING blinds, and inspecting the gigantic garden whirlpool tub. When I poked around the kitchenette, I found answer to prayer number two: a plastic tray full of plastic silverware. Proof that God cares about even the littlest things. (Or maybe He just didn’t want to watch me stab macaroni with a coffee stirrer.)

I curled up on the couch and read in the book I’d pulled from the shelf – How to Really Love God as Your Father by Deborah Newman. After each chapter, I’d move over to the tiny table, spread out my journals and write all the things I’d just learned that I didn’t want to forget.

I found some great quotes along the way:

You know you are getting it when you don’t doubt the goodness of God. You are discovering the amazing depths of a relationship with God that allows you to cry out ‘Abba, Father,’ as Jesus did on that night of utter terror in His soul. – Deborah Newman

The great spiritual task facing me is to so fully trust that I belong to God that I can be free in the world – free to speak even when my actions are criticized, ridiculed, or considered useless; free also to receive love from people and to be grateful for all the signs of God’s presence in the world. I am convinced that I will be truly able to love the world when I fully believe that I am loved far beyond its boundaries. – Henri Nouwen

After several hours of reading and journaling, I took a break to have the fabulous frozen dinner – eaten in bed, of course, as should be the case when eating in a hotel. I filled up the ice bucket – another adventure of hotel life – trying to find that one mysterious cubbie that is never quite where the map on the back of the door says it will be found. I helped myself to not one, but two free cups of coffee from the lobby – because I could. And I took a swim (don’t even think I’m kidding) in that gigantic tub. There was also a bit of a mishap with the bubbles, but we won’t talk about that.

And when the day was over, I curled up in bed with my bag of popcorn and the remote control, flipping through all the familiar channels I watch at home. I stretched out in the big bed and slept soundly – first floor and all. And I didn’t even have any CSI dreams.

The next morning I could tell the sun (which had NOT made an appearance the previous day) was peeking through the blinds, so I scurried out of bed to open the east windows and lay in bed to watch a sunrise. (Once a year I can handle a sunrise.)

I was very pleased with the outcome of the retreat – despite my lack of planning. God proved to me that He (the Abba Father) can provide for His children even when they fail to plan well.

Peanut Butter Fudge

Beverly...your request is granted. :) Enjoy!

One of the many things I inherited from Dad was my love for peanut butter fudge. Actually I'll eat fudge of any kind, but Dad prefers peanut butter. The problem is, I'm super picky about fudge. It needs to be extremely creamy to make me happy. And now that I've found this recipe, I'm perfectly happy. Amazingly enough, so is Dad. You think I'm picky about the fudge. He's really picky. I was so nervous the first time I made this and gave him some, but he said he loved it. (He does not say that lightly when it comes to food.) So I'm still making it and he's still eating it. Last Saturday was Dad's birthday, so I made a new batch - a whole pan just for him.

I love this recipe because it has very few ingredients, and it does not take long to make. I can usually have it completely done (finding ingredients to tossing dishes in dishwasher) in 15 minutes or less. But do beware - this is addictive!

The Recipe:

2 cups sugar
1/2 cup milk
1 1/3 cups peanut butter
1 jar (7 ounces) marshmallow creme

In a saucepan, bring the sugar and the milk to a boil. Boil for 3 minutes. Add the peanut butter and marshmallow creme to the pan and mix well. Pour into a greased 8 inch square pan. Chill until set; cut into squares.


I prefer this recipe with creamy peanut butter, since it is such a creamy fudge, but sometimes I've run out and have had to use some (or all) crunchy peanut butter. It's really good no matter what you choose to use!

My first panic when making this for the first time was knowing when to start the 3 minute count for the boil. At the sign of the first bubble? When it was really going strong? After some experimenting, I learned that when there's a pretty consistent boil around the edge of the pan and maybe a good boil starting in the middle...start counting.


Once it gets going, it will boil up quite a bit. Since there's so much sugar in there, I stir it every 30 seconds or so just to make sure it's not burning/sticking to the bottom of the pan.

Once the boiling has finished, you have to work pretty quickly to stir it together before it starts to set up. So while I wait on the boiling part of the recipe, I go ahead and open up the marshmallow creme and get the peanut butter measured so I am ready to move when the timer sounds. This little kitchen tool right here is one of the best investments I ever made in my culinary life. I h-a-t-e measuring messy foods. Mayo, sour cream, peanut butter - all that stuff irritates me. But Pampered Chef made this Measure-All cup that measures dry ingredients on one side and liquid on the other (that bottom part is a cup when flipped over). You just slide the bottom of the dry measuring side down to the measurement you need, fill up the space with your ingredient, and just push it out into the bowl. It's one of the greatest inventions ever, I think. They also just came out with a smaller version recently.

I put the marshmallow creme and the peanut butter right in the pan - the leftover heat helps melt them down a bit. (Be sure you actually do remove this from the heat before you start sirring.)

I'd recommend using a pretty sturdy spatula or spoon. I almost broke a flimsy little spatula one time when trying to stir this. You have to be a little careful because the sugar/milk part is very runny (and hot!) and the marshmallow creme and peanut butter are so thick. You don't want to flip the hot sugar/milk out and burn yourself! Stir it really well so you don't end up with patches of marshmallow and patches of peanut butter.

Pour almost all of it into a greased baking dish. (Half the fun is leaving some in the pan to sample.) You can just let it stay out in room temperature, but I put mine in the refrigerator - usually overnight - and then it will be good and ready.

I forgot the official "TA-DA!" photo - but it pretty much looks the same as above - without the spatula in the way.

Bits for Sunday, October 12, 2008

One beautiful week of vacation…done. Sigh of combination sadness/excitement.

I try very hard not to take an entire week off work at one time. I don’t like being away from my desk that long. But I was quite worn down (thankyouverymuch, daylight savings) and I needed sleep desperately. So last week I took an entire week off. Well, sort of. I have a bad habit of not knowing how to stay away from checking my email while I’m not at work. But at least I managed to not go in to the office – though it was sorely tempting on Friday.

I kicked off the vacation with a six hour scrap-fest at the church where I attend Bible study. I had a whole round table to myself and got all caught up on my regular album. There were many snacks, but they were all super-sweet, so I tried not to work my way into a sugar coma on the drive home. And there I sat, in the living room, at 12:30 in the morning, eating dinner. Now that’s vacation.

Monday evening I got a new haircut – because I needed change in my life. Of course, as all women know, new haircuts bring on a new life of their own. Days of trying it this way and that to see what works, buying new product for it, because the 18 bottles already in the bathroom don’t quite give it the pizzazz it needs. It’s tiring, really.

Tuesday I managed to tackle the granddaddy of all projects looming over my head. I switched the clothes in the closet from summer to winter. The fall closet switch always brings me a combination of joy and sorrow. Joy because it’s a brand new (free!) wardrobe. Sorrow because I so hate bulky clothing. I have enough bulk. I don’t need to wear it too.

And Tuesday night I went to a jewelry-making party at my friend Rachel’s house (pictures in the post below). I was scared to death of all the little tools. Never made jewelry before. But I had a lot of fun and now own a very cute black bracelet and a pair of black earrings.

Wednesday I headed up to Shipshewana for my annual “personal retreat.” I will write more about that next week. But it was a very fun and relaxing time complete with those unexpected, unplanned moments that I love so much.

When I left Shipshewana the next day, I headed a couple of hours away to visit my friends Jon and Julie, who are about to have their first baby. They used to be my neighbors, so it’s very different to not see them all the time anymore! All of you who know me well will be SO PROUD to know that I drove by myself, on an interstate, through a city, in construction, on a road I’d never been on before, sandwiched between two semis, reading a very tiny Mapquest printout, and I did not get lost or throw up. That is major.

By Friday, the stress of not being at work had gotten the best of me. I was a wreck. I tried to figure out how to best channel my frustration without causing permanent damage to anyone or anything. I found just the thing.

Furniture rearrangement.

For SIX HOURS I rearranged furniture in four rooms. And since I know someone will ask, yes, it was by myself. I move my furniture all the time. One of Mom’s friends told me this morning that I change the furniture more than anyone she knows. I told her it’s cheaper than moving and it still gives that new house feel.

Anyway, I pushed and pulled and emptied and refilled and rearranged. We’re talking bookcases and TV and couches and the whole nine yards. And of course – I had to be on the lookout for tiny paws and tails the whole time.

I had two near disasters. Both happened while I tried to push and pull a full size couch through a very tiny doorway without scratching any paint or ripping any fabric. The first “oops” happened when I accidentally backed into an empty bookcase and toppled it over, very narrowly missing a window with the corner of the bookcase. The second was when I was so focused on not scratching the paint that I forgot I had a hand in the way. Totally smashed my hand in the door with the couch. It left a little fat bump and a bruise. And then this morning I whacked it on the table in Sunday School. That felt fabulous.

But for the most part the great overhaul is complete, and work resumes this week. If you need me for the next eight business days, you’ll find me glued to my emails.

Jewelry Night!

Here are the pictures from jewelry night earlier this week. Rachel (who makes about 80% of the jewelry I now wear) had a bracelet class, and a couple of us threw in a pair of earrings just for kicks. :) I was intimidated by the choices of beads and all the tools. I suppose I now know how people feel when they observe a hard core stamp fest in action.

Amanda made a very cute bracelet with all kinds of colors in it - perfect for about any outfit. It was her first time to join us and we loved having her!

Here's Rachel helping Olivia make a VERY cute bracelet. Hers had some big chunky pink beads in it - SO cute.


Jaye - our trooper of the night - beaded her entire bracelet with her broken hand. You go, Jaye! It was really cute too - and had the possibility to go with lots of outfits.

Amber was so cute working on hers - she put so much thought into the pattern and then she realized it was too long so she had to start over. She and I both did black bracelets - but hers was extra spiffed with some ribbon!

This is me freaking out about using the tools and Rachel trying to guide me. I think I'll let her bead and I'll stamp.

Tagged!

The Hollands tagged me, so I have the answers to that here below. But before I get to that....just a quick update on life in Bekahland.

Friday night I went to a six hour crop and it was AMAZING. I got all caught up on the "normal life" book, which was good enough for me. Saturday, as I mentioned on Sunday, was just a lovely restful day. I got a SASSY new purse at Goodys. Apparently this past weekend was their 55th anniversary, so they were running a 55% off sale. SWEET! Sales are my friend. Sunday was another lovely restful day complete with a nap.

Yesterday I had a first...I had wandered into the kitchen when I heard a very odd sound outside. I glanced out to see a woman pushing a grocery cart down the alley. Her significant other (I assume) was riding along beside her in a motorized scooter thing - PILFERING THROUGH MY TRASH!!! I had no words. I know people sort through my trash, because I've found stuff missing from it before. While I guess I don't mind (after all, I did throw the stuff away) - I just don't like the idea of people picking through my stuff while it's still on the property. Sigh.

Today's project is to clean out the closet. Since that is going to be a huge task, I'm choosing to blog instead rushing to start. :)

So here you go - answers to the tag.


10 Years Ago (1998):
1. I was a junior in college.
2. I was just about to go on my first date (I was a significantly late bloomer) - which is a "this could only happen to Bekah" story I'll have to tell you sometime.
3. I was driving Lloyd the really old Ford that had to have its radiator refilled every time it was driven.
4. I had not yet driven on any interstate as a result of driver's ed trauma.
5. Because I had minimal money for Christmas gifts, I was in the middle of writing a book for my family - figured they would like that for Christmas better than anything else.


5 things on today’s “to do” list:
1. Switch the clothes in the closet from summer to winter.
2. Clean the master bedroom closet so when the electrician comes to put in a new light, he can get into the space without being eternally lost.
3. Make BBQ sausages for the get-together tonight.
4. Figure out what to do with my hair.
5. Make jewelry at Rachel's house. (black earrings and a black bracelet, to be exact.)


5 snacks I enjoy:
1. graham crackers (the official snack of work days)
2. iced animal cookies
3. popcorn
4. cheese and cracker Combos (the official snack of any travel day)
5. jamocha shakes

5 things I would do if I were a millionaire:
1. Treat the family to bill paying (houses/college bills/cars/whatever)
2. Remodel the parts of my house that I think need remodeling.
3. Go on a cruise.
4. Write books.
5. Get a new camera.


5 places I have lived:
1. Greentown - where I grew up.
2. Evans Hall - the dorm where I lived for my freshman and sophomore years of college.
3. Eastburn Apartments (moment of silence - they've been torn down in the name of progress) - where I lived my junior and senior years of college.
4. Apartment in north Marion - where I lived for three months between college graduation and where I live now.
5. My house! The current residence!


5 jobs I have had:
1. Babysitter (high school)
2. Church Secretary (right after high school)
3. File Clerk (right after high school)
4. Financial Aid Student Worker (3 1/2 years of college)
5. Financial Aid (where I've been ever since!)

Bits for Sunday, October 6, 2008

Rest.

That beautiful word that escapes us entirely too much of the time.

I don’t know if you’re like me – but I have been known to specifically schedule my times of rest because if I don’t – I’ll be too busy to have them. And yet it’s very hard to suddenly shut down my brain and rest on command. I find myself thinking of all the things I could – should – be doing while I’m “wasting time” resting.

Yesterday, with the exception of exercising, I took all my mentally scheduled plans and tossed them out the window. That took an act of discipline in and of itself. I do not easily toss the day’s script.

I slept in – but not until all hours of the day like I’m sometimes known to do. I made scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast (which really did kind of slam into the lunch hour) and kicked back to watch some HGTV while I enjoyed a perfect leisurely morning. I spent the rest of the day mixing some fun with some actual responsibility and amazingly enough, when the end of the day arrived, I wasn’t even kicking myself for all the things I never did because I ditched “the plan.”

Halfway through the day, my phone rang, and on the other end was a friend I’ve not seen in four years. She was in town and wondered if we could catch up for a few minutes. She had things scheduled but finally, late in the evening, she called and said she was free. I grabbed Starbucks for us and headed to meet her for a couple hours of catching up on four years of news. And as I drove home much later, I realized that sort of thing is what the day is really about. The cleaning will still be there tomorrow, but the time with her was then or…maybe not for another four years.

Even though I stayed out way too late on a church night, it was still restful. It was still good. And hey – Sunday afternoons were made for naps, so any lack of sleep could be easily fixed.

In Bible study last week, a little group of us sat around and discussed that mysterious period of Jesus’ life that is not really mentioned. Those twenty-eight or so years that fall between the time the wise men visited and public ministry began. With the exception of that one moment when He was twelve and informing Mary and Joseph that He must be about his Father’s business, there are no clues about what happened in His life.

We speculated about this and that, and I said that I think those years were filled to the brim with life. I think for Jesus to be able to relate to people the way He needed to relate to them during His years of ministry, He had to do a lot of hands-on, in-the-field prep work. I believe those silent years were an entire lifetime of ups and downs, joys and sorrows, test and trials, all crammed into twenty-some odd years.

Talk about an agenda! Lots to do…and yet not a lot of time to do it. And yet the Bible is very clear that Jesus understood the importance of rest and He took time out to do it. And I would imagine there were days when the check-list had to be tossed aside because a friend was in town – or something else that seemed lesser might actually have been greater.

Agendas are good. Checklists…and more specifically the checking off of checklists…are good. But rest is good too. And this week I intend to pack in my fair share of it.

Chicken in a Garden

I thought perhaps it was time to post a recipe that did not include a main ingredient of sugar. :) Main dishes were probably the hardest thing for me to learn to cook. I was great with desserts for many years, but I had no idea what to do when it came to the "real food." But I've greatly improved in that department, and I love to share the things I love to make the most.

One evening I went to my friend Marie's house for a movie night, and rather than our traditional order-in-Pizza-King routine, she made this for dinner. It was so yummy - and she promised it was also so easy - that I asked for the recipe. I have made this many times since. It is extremely easy to assemble, it has VEGETABLES in it (gasp!), and it tastes pretty good even as a leftover. Though I make this year-round, it struck me as a sort of fall comfort food, so I thought this would be the perfect time to share it with you!

The Recipe:

1 9-inch baked pie crust
1 large can of chicken
1 10-ounce bag frozen mixed vegetables, cooked and drained
1 10 1/2-ounce can cream of chicken soup
1 3-ounce can French fried onions

Combine chicken, vegetables, and soup, along with half the can of onions. Pour mixture into baked pie shell. Bake at 350 degrees for 25 minutes. Sprinkle the remaining onions over the top and bake 5 minutes longer. Enjoy!


I prefer the mixed vegetable bag that has just carrots, corn, green beans, and peas. But you can pick whatever blend you like to get your favorite taste. If you don't like canned chicken, you could use a couple cups of chopped up chicken breast. (I just don't want to take the extra time to cook the chicken first and I never have any prepared ahead.)


When I make pies, I make my own crust, because I like to do things the long way. :) But part of the joy of this dish is that it's QUICK, so when I make it, I use pie shells from the freezer section. The ones I buy come two in a bag, so I can make this twice! The directions for baking an empty pie shell are printed on the bag, so follow those directions to pre-bake the shell. You're also supposed to poke the shell with a fork prior to baking. I have a call in to my Mom to find out why that is, but so far she hasn't called me back with the answer, so for now, the reasoning is "just because."


While the pie shell is baking (usually takes about 15 minutes), I go ahead and get the filling ready. I start by cooking the vegetables. This is one of my favorite kitchen tools. It's the Pampered Chef Micro-Cooker, and this particular one was given to me by my mom when I was a freshman in college. It has definitely survived a lot of wear and tear! (My senior year of college, one of my roommates borrowed it to make soup and didn't stop to think about it being plastic, so she put it on the stove. It has huge coil marks in the bottom now, but it didn't melt all the way through, so it's still perfectly usable!) Anyway, this thing is great for microwave cooking. It has measuring marks on the inside, pour spouts, and the lid doubles as a strainer. In college I used it for macaroni and cheese, soup, Ramen, you name it. But now I love it for things like this so I don't have to mess with heating up the stove top. I just pour some water in with the veggies, cook them for a few minutes, and then flip the cooker over to pour off the water.

When the veggies are cooked, I just put them in a bowl along with the chicken. I do drain the juice off the chicken before I add it to the veggies. Some of the canned chunks can be kind of big, so I break them up with a fork to spread it better throughout the dish.

Then I add the soup and the onions (and I usually add more onions than it says because I like them so much).

When the pie shell comes out of the oven, I'm ready to pour the filling in! I think the temperature to cook the empty shell is higher than the temperature to cook the assembled dish, so I just hold the oven door open for a couple of minutes until it cools down to 350.
And once the main cooking time is done, I add more onions and....here is the finished product!

You can just cut it like a pie and serve it! I really like to eat this with grapes for a perfect, simple, fast little meal.

The Itsy Bitsy Spider

I hate spiders. I don't care if they're big ole hairy tarantulas or spindly little grandaddy longlegs. I hate them all. I don't want them to breathe my air, live on my property or anything of the sort.

When I was growing up, any sighting of a spider (and there were many because we lived in the country) was grounds for screaming at the top of my lungs for my Dad.

Clearly that option went the way of all the earth when I moved out of their house. Fortunately life a bit removed from the fields has made the appearance of spiders very minimal. And when I do see them, I just have to take care of the situation myself, like it or not. (Not.)

But this totally creeped me out. Yesterday I was in the bathroom, straightening my hair at the sink. I had just brushed my teeth and when I glanced down to pick up the straightener, there was this NASTY spider crawling up the sink from the drain! NOT a grandaddy longlegs. Also not a tarantula, but you know - a "real" spider. I screamed. The cats ran (what good are they, anyway?) and I started ripping about 15 sheets of toilet paper off the holder. Before I could wet my pants or throw up, I squished that icky spider and flushed him. Then I screamed again. THEN I closed the drain.

What happened to "down came the rain and washed the spider out?" I'd just been running the water. That thing should have been FARRRRRRRRRRRRRR from the house, not perched just under the sink!

I wrote my parents and told them they should be proud. I killed a spider without calling 911. :)

Bits from Bekah's Life

**see post below for pictures**

Every year, my friend Marie and I head to the lake. It started three or four years ago when her church held a women’s retreat at a conference center on Lake Wawasee. That weekend moved both of us so much that when we went to the retreat the following year, we drove up on our own so we could go early and spend extra time by the lake awaiting another “God-moment.” Though the church stopped having retreats, we continued to drive up for our own day on the pier. God did a lot of speaking to each of us by the side of that lake.

This year we marked off our Saturday and made plans to pack the car with Bibles and journals and sit by the water one more time. Thursday, Marie sent me a text message that said when she’d gone to the conference center’s website to get their phone number, the page said they’d closed permanently and the property was for sale.

I was desperate to still have a Saturday by the water. For the last two weeks I’d been home on my couch trying to feel better. Two sunny Saturdays down the drain because of sickness. I couldn’t bear to lose a third one. And both of us had been so looking forward to a day by the water.

After doing some checking online, I found a backup plan. Another “W” lake – also north of us. Obviously it wouldn’t be the same, but maybe it would be a good day anyway. Yesterday morning we hopped in the car and headed down the path the directions said to take, hoping for a good day.

And a good day it was. We exchanged sitting on the pier’s bench for dipping our bare feet in the slightly chilly waters of a very tiny beach. Instead of journaling, we squished our toes in the sand and hunted for shells (Marie) and ran from fish (me). Rather than hours of sitting, reading, journaling, and pondering…we walked up and down the sidewalks, checking out the shops, giggling at the strange man trying knock out a bee with a pair of scissors, and taking pictures of everything from cute puppies to sidewalk chalk art.

We came home, and though I’d had a very fun day, I wasn’t sure it had accomplished all that this sort of day should have accomplished in my heart. Lake days were supposed to be about revelation and goose bumps and renewed spirit. Not just walking the beach and shopping.

I came home and picked up a book I’d long ago laid aside for no particular reason. I was about halfway done with it and became distracted by other books, but yesterday it seemed important that I pick it up. The book is called Loving God with All Your Mind, and it was written by one of my favorite authors – Elizabeth George. The chapter ready for me talked about focusing forward, and these words awaited me:

My husband told me about a woman who lived in her dream home on a lake in middle America, thoroughly enjoying the quiet setting and leisurely pace of country living. Her husband had a once-in-a-lifetime career opportunity that required that they move to Los Angeles. She, however, had no desire to relocate, especially to Los Angeles! So she stayed by her lake…and her husband passed on his golden opportunity.

Don’t you wonder if perhaps this woman and wife mistakenly thinks “the prize” is to reside on waterfront property instead of attaining the spiritual maturity that comes with forgetting the past, reaching forward, and pressing ahead toward “the upward call of God in Christ Jesus?” Leaving her lake meant taking a risk, making a move, and growing her faith through new changes and challenges. In this woman’s case, her comfort may actually cause her faith to stop growing and her pursuit of excellence to wane.

I just shook my head. Here I was, all worried that the day had been a heart-loss because I’d not been able to sit in my familiar seat by the familiar water and hear new words. And yet God was reminding me that sometimes I have to take a risk, leave my lake, make a move, and see what He can do by fresh water.

Yesterday I didn’t take my journal. I didn’t even write in the sand on the beach. The closest I got to writing was when I scribbled “It’s a happy day” in sidewalk chalk outside one of the shops. But even without my trusty pen in hand, God was able to do something. He was able to work in my heart and refresh my spirit and make me excited about moving forward.

And just in case we go back next year – I’ve scoped out the perfect places to sit with a journal and a pen. Just in case.

Lake Time!

Every fall, my friend Marie and I go to the lake. Normally this is kind of a one day "connect with God" sort of outing for us. For the last four (I think) years, we've gone up to Lake Wawasee and spent time on the grounds of the Oakwood Inn. There is a pier there that has become special to each of us, because God has spoken to us in pretty powerful ways in that spot.

So, several weeks ago, we reserved this day for our annual pilgrimage. Thursday Marie checked their website to get their phone number and found a message that said the entire campus was closed and the property was for sale. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

I did some scrambling and found a plan B for us. It was very different from what we normally do, but we had so much fun anyway - and it was my first Saturday out of bed in three weeks because of this stupid flu/cold thing I had. So I was just thrilled to be on the OUTSIDE of my house!

We decided to go up to Winona Lake. Neither of us had been there before, so armed with Mapquest directions, coffee, and a full tank of gas, we started our adventure. I sometimes wonder how Mapquest arrives at its paths...we certainly had a scenic route there! We passed a double wide log cabin, a home with a periwinkle garage door, and a home with a coral garage door! How colorful!

Our first order of business was to find a place where we could see the lake. We found a little park that had a very tiny beach. Given that it's the last weekend in September, the beach was empty. So we were able to sit and enjoy the late morning view:

Marie and me. We were in the lifeguard tower, actually.


No lifeguards on duty today, so we took the opportunity to have a photo shoot. It was a pretty fun place to sit and overlook the lake.

After we spent some time at the lake, we went to eat lunch (my pictures got out of order here - oops!) and then we went shopping. The Village at Winona is this little area just across from the campus of Grace College - kind of a Brown County sort of feel. Little artisan shops everywhere. One of the last shops we visited had a big bucket of bubbles with this huge handmade bubble wand in it - just sitting out - so anyone could use it. They also had a bucket of sidewalk chalk. Marie blew bubbles and I added to the art others had begun.

After we'd shopped for a while, we discovered this cute little island park. I'm not sure if it was part of Grace's campus or if it was part of the Village area - but it had this little pond (with a fountain!) and an island in the center. We walked over the bridge and sat in the chairs overlooking the fountain. It was such a perfect day - warm and sunny.

At the end of the day, we went back to the "beach." It was pretty hot by this time, so we went wading. Marie was much braver than I. As soon as the fish started nibbling at my toes, I went running for the edge of the water. I'm not so much into the fish actually TOUCHING me. There was a cute little kid splashing around in the water trying to catch a fish with his sand bucket. Marie tried to help him. I just walked up and down the edge of the water, squishing my toes in the sand.


HERE'S lunch! Not sure how I got this one so out of order. Anyway, there were some little cafes/bakeries in the village, so we just picked one and ate there. This one was kind of on the organic side. I had a grilled chicken Caesar salad - and a bottle of "good for you" cola. I forget the name brand. Anyway, it definitely didn't taste like Coke, but it was so much fun to drink because a., I still stay away from carbonation as a general rule, so it was a treat and 2., it was in a glass bottle! MEMORIES. :) We found another cafe later and got a snack - I, of course, had iced coffee. :)

I think we'll probably go back again - it was a very fun place. And our trip home was 100% different than our trip there. (Again - how do you just reverse your destination in Mapquest and go home by a completely different route?????) We didn't really get to sit and ponder the God-things of life, but we did have a great day!

Mama's Birthday

I'm behind...what can I say?!?

Here are my pictures from when Mom and I celebrated her birthday. I'll stay in her good graces and not tell you her age. :)

What do you buy the Mom that has everything? A wreath for fall, I guess.

After she opened her present at my house, I took her to the Gaither store/cafe for lunch and shopping. We both love to go there. And I loved an afternoon off work! :)


Here I am with a most yummy chicken quesadilla. I have a picture of Mom with her lunch, but she was being silly and would probably appreciate NOT having it shared with the world.

Mom rolled her eyes because I made the lady retake this shot. But in the first one, she looked like a total dork and I looked like a total cow. We couldn't have that immortalized in the scrapbook. But while I fussed about it, Mom proceeded to tell the lady how I'd made her take over 40 pictures before I found the acceptable one for my Christmas card last year. Sigh.

Make-At-Home Frappes

Did you think I forgot about food? I didn't. It's just that since I've been sick so much in the past couple of weeks, the only thing that has sounded good has been ice cream. I've been through a LOT of ice cream. No cooking = no pictures. But I did make a few of these, so I thought I'd make this the official second recipe. :) ** Beverly, if you're reading, Dad did pass along the message to me that you wanted to know about the peanut butter fudge. I promise that one will appear soon! **

I l-o-v-e coffee drinks. The floofier the better, in my opinion. Two problems: too expensive and too fattening. I used to purchase 2-3 of these a week from any given coffee shop. I now get about one or two a month from a real coffee shop and instead make my own version at home (almost every day, but who's counting?). This way I can monitor the sugar and fat that goes into it, and I can save about ten bucks a week! No, these are not as good as what you get at the coffee shop, but they are pretty yummy, and I'm all about saving a buck, so that makes it worth it for me! You can switch up the flavoring however you like and make as much or as little as you want. If you want to add a little extra richness (and a few calories) - you could add a scoop of vanilla ice cream to the mix before you blend.

The Recipe:

7 ice cubes
1 1/2 cups milk
1 teaspoon instant coffee
1 1/2 Tablespoons caramel flavoring
whipped topping
caramel sundae topping

Combine ice cubes, milk, instant coffee, and caramel flavoring in blender and blend until smooth. Pour into glass and top with whipped topping and caramel sundae topping.

Here's the visual version...

Yes, I'm still using ice cubes in little trays. I use 7 cubes, but if you are using smaller cubes from an ice maker or if you use crushed ice, you can play around with the amount. It should probably fill your blender somewhere between the 1 cup mark and the 1 1/2 cup mark. I also don't really measure the milk. The ice and milk together come out around the 2 cup mark on the blender's measuring marks. I use decaf instant coffee, because I don't usually drink this until it's way too close to bed to be messing around with additional caffeine. The flavoring can be found in the coffee aisle and if you don't like caramel, you can find other flavors.


I put the instant coffee in last so it doesn't get all stuck in the bottom of the blender. Play around with the amounts of milk and ice until you get it just right for you.


Hold the lid on tight - you do NOT want to be cleaning this up from all over creation! :) I use the "ice crush" option on my blender and it makes short work of this.

Here it is pre-doctoring up with the whipped cream and caramel topping.

Mmmmmm. Perfect. And so much cheaper than a coffee shop.

Bits for Sunday, September 21, 2008

Well, I wish I had something pivotal for you today. I even wish I had some of last week’s sarcasm, for that matter. Instead I have a true potpourri of nothing.

I write to you from my perch on the coffee table. Wasn’t I taught to sit on chairs and not on tables, you ask? Why yes, I was. Unfortunately, my desk chair broke yesterday. AGAIN. Remember a year or so ago when I was writing away on the little wooden folding chair? It just collapsed into about five pieces underneath me? It happened again yesterday. I’d replaced the wooden disaster with a little white office chair from the mission. And yesterday I heard a thud…and then the seat began to teeter…and when I stood up, the whole seat fell onto the floor. You know – I’m starting to get a complex! But complex or no, until I get a new chair, I’m pulling up the coffee table and HOPING it holds.

Last Friday (as in a week ago), I came down with fluish symptoms. I cancelled all my weekend plans, ate a lot of chicken noodle soup, and thought I was all better. WRONG!! Thursday I developed the “can’t breathe” beginnings of a cold. Friday was horrible. Aching, chilling, sweating, NOT GOOD. I couldn’t miss work – my single busiest day of the year – so I went and sat in the dark in my office, eating lots of Breezers and praying my way through the rosters I had to complete. And at 3:30, I did the Bekah-unthinkable. I asked to go home. GASP.

After swinging by WalGreens for cold meds and more Breezers, I came home, put on mismatched scrubbies, and sacked out in the fat chair. One of my friends stopped by with something I’d not seen before, but it proved to be one of the best inventions I’ve found lately – Puffs with Vicks. Did you know about those? I’d complained because the tissues I had at home were sub-par. I rarely purchase a box that is not Puffs Plus with Aloe, but the last time I made a purchase, I was cheap. It did not pay to get a cold with cheap tissues. They don’t hold up in the face (ha!) of severe colds. But these not only had staying power – they had healing power. My nose is SO much better today.

I took a break from HGTV to read for a bit. Found this quote that really hit me, and I figure maybe someone else could stand to hear it too. Author Judith Pella said this: “Even side journeys can be important instruments of growth. All the detours I’ve taken have only made my life that much richer with life experiences.” I think it’s a good reminder, given that I have a tendency to look at any deviation from “the plan” as a moment of failure. But then again – is “the plan” mine or God’s?

And finally, in my night of nothingness – I have this to share with you. Two years ago (almost exactly) – I did a 30 day concentration on 1 Corinthians 13. I pulled it back out over the weekend just to see what I’d learned (and learned that I needed to relearn a lot of it). This part struck me, so I share them with you in case it can bring a moment of “hmmm” to your week.

I thought of the father I’d spoken to earlier that day that thanked me profusely before hanging up the phone. Over and over he told me that I’d been so helpful and he so appreciated my time. He understood so much better after talking to me. I could have answered him in my sleep. I’m on auto-pilot when it comes to questions like that. But then I stopped to think about things in life that I know little about. Hadn’t my former roommate come over just the night before to assemble a file cabinet for me because tools and I are not friends? To her it was just a couple hours out of her life to be paid for with a plate of chocolate chip cookies warm out of the oven. To me it was a pile of wood I no longer had to stare at in the corner of my office. A frustration of my limitations no longer in front of me. A stack of file folders that could finally move off my guest room futon and into a permanent home.

I’ll try to get well this week. To not break any more chairs. To have something deep and meaningful for you next week!

Twenty Years

Today is my nephew's twentieth birthday. All day I tried to think of what to say that would be appropriate...but I don't think I've ever said it better than this that I wrote when he was sixteen...before I started blogging. So today I'll just change the age and add it here. Lori...I'm sending you a big hug. Wish I were there to deliver it in person.

Twenty years ago yesterday, I became an aunt for the first time. I was ten. Ten years old, with a long list of plans for my time with this baby my sister was about to give birth to. I had a bag packed and by the front door ready to go to the hospital when “the call” came. My bag probably had more junk in it than my sister’s bag did. I always was a packrat.

Mom woke me up at some horribly early hour and I didn’t even brush my hair…I just threw on a pink and white shirt and a denim skirt and grabbed the keep-me-entertained-for-a-trip-around-the-world bag on my way out the door. And off to the hospital we went. I sat in the waiting room with the others and continued my mental list making. I’d get to babysit and get to play junior mom. This would be like having the little brother or sister I’d always wanted but never had.

But even the best laid plans don’t always happen the way we dream them. They didn’t that day. There were no shouts of “It’s a girl!” or “It’s a boy!” There was just a very sad doctor’s face. How do you even tell a man who just left his wife and unborn child in your safe care that you took care of her, but about the baby…there was just nothing you could do? But he had to somehow figure out how to say that to my brother-in-law, and to the rest of the very shocked family members gathered around. How does a husband go explain to his wife that yes, when she went under the anesthetic…yes the baby was fine, but now…there won’t be a baby to take home and dress up and play with? How does a wife go to sleep knowing her baby is okay and wake up to find out her baby has died? And she never even got to meet him?

How does a ten year old grasp a sentence like “We lost the baby”? I was ready to pack up my bag and go find him. It was time to rethink all those plans I’d been making…but I couldn’t make enough sense of the situation to do that. That whole week was full of trying to make sense of situations that just didn’t. How do I explain to my friends at school that the baby came…but there is no baby? How do I sit through a funeral and listen to people sing about being near to the heart of God when I want that baby to be here…near to my heart?

Well, somehow I did it. Somehow we all did it…just like all of us do all the hard things that we have to do when they happen. I’m not ten anymore. I understand that babies die…children die…adults die…and not always at the “right” time. That there really never is a “right” time to die in the eyes of those who are left to sort out the questions and the emotions. But even at 30, I don’t understand why it had to be him. Why right now I can’t pop online and have both a nephew and a niece on my instant messenger list. Why I couldn’t make two trips to Kansas for eighth-grade graduations and then high school graduations. Why I didn’t have to learn about football and sports cars and guitars besides makeup and volleyball and lists of cute boys.

Kirk…I miss you. If I’d had it my way, you’d be here. I might be lecturing you about a speeding ticket or hinting to you to buy roses for your girlfriend because she’d like that. I might be trying to convince you to come to college where I work so I could see you more. I’d have saved a place for you in the groomsman line for when I get married. But I can’t do any of those things. Well…except miss you. Which I do. I can’t believe you’d be twenty. Way to make me feel old, Kiddo. So I know that you’re in Heaven and I know that you’d be nuts to rather be here than there…so I won’t wish you back too often. But I just hope that you can know that you are still loved. Always loved. I only got to hold you one time…and I know that at twenty it wouldn’t even be cool to, you know, do the whole hugging thing…but someday I hope I get to hold you one more time and tell you things that I should have told you that day, but I was only ten and it was early in the morning and I kind of didn’t know I’d regret that later, so I just stood there instead of saying anything. So I’m saying them now. On your birthday, I just want to say thanks for making me an aunt…and thanks for teaching me that it’s okay to not understand and to ask questions. I’m waiting for the day when I can see you again.

-- Aunt Bekah

Water Cooler Talk

I am feeling better - for the most part. While I don't feel like all this is turning into a cold, I have developed some strange throat issue that leaves me sounding like Roz from Monsters Inc. It's attractive.

Tis the season for new TV shows - and I'm going to try VERY hard to not add any new ones to my list this year. I don't want to become a complete couch potato, especially since I'm trying to work hard at the research for my Bible study.

But the Biggest Loser started tonight and I am definitely going to watch that. Last season was the first one I'd watched, and I found it pretty interesting - and inspiring.

Anyone else watching Biggest Loser this round?

Bits for Sunday, September 14, 2008

I almost didn't post this one this week because I truly don't want it to offend anyone. Normally I don't even remotely joke about things like this, but hopefully you'll take it in the spirit in which I wrote it...

I’m not sure what things are like where you work, but in my office, we hear a lot about appeals. Exceptions to the normal boundaries of our rules. I will admit to you that this exposure to appeals has greatly affected the way I interact with businesses when I might be inclined to appeal one of their rules.

I remember the first time I was ever late with a credit card payment. You must understand that I am ridiculously organized about things like paying bills, because my parents raised me well to pay in full and pay on time. Period. End of discussion. This unfortunate late payment occurred during the worst Thanksgiving of my life (I’m sure I wrote about it back in the day) and it was literally the last straw of that weekend. In shuffling the papers on my desk, I found that unpaid bill staring at me…and I cried all the way to the store, where I paid it…and I cried some more the next month when I received the new bill with the late fee attached. I thought about calling the company to appeal…it was the first (and as far as I was concerned, also the last) time I’d ever been late and surely there would be some grace for just such a thing. But I didn’t call. Because the truth was…I didn’t pay my bill on time. Perhaps a hefty late fee would be just the consequence I needed to not let it happen again.

This morning in church, my Dad preached about the Ten Commandments – which, he pointed out – are not the Ten Suggestions. Makes me wonder about the appeal-happy people of the world. I wonder if, on Judgment Day, they’ll arrive at the Pearly Gates with a neatly typed (single-spaced) appeal letter outlining the reasons they didn’t precisely follow the Ten Commandments as stated. For example:

Dear God:

I understand I am about to be held accountable for my actions over the past…lifetime…and I wanted write this letter to ask for some exceptions to be made based on extenuating circumstances.

1. I do understand I was not to have any other god besides You, and really, if You look at it technically, I followed this one. I know that it looks like work came first because I stayed there for twelve hours a day (fourteen in busy season…just so I’m not lying), but You know…I was working as unto You! If I’m not mistaken, that is Scriptural. I also believe the Bible says that we’re to submit to authority, and my boss is the authority! He’s the one that asked for all the extra hours. I know I got a little emotionally attached to it, but I just wanted to make this explanation, so it didn’t look to You like I was really doing that on purpose with the intent to put You second in my life.


2. About the Sabbath. Scripture says to “remember” it – and I sure did. Many weeks I remembered it from the office, but I did remember it, and that was part of the command. And even though I was at work and not at church, I was resting. I could have been up on the roof repairing those shingles like my neighbor did sometimes (just thought I’d mention that in case You didn’t see it) but I was very much resting in the chair behind the desk, typing very slowly so as not to aggravate my carpal tunnel.


3. I never stole anything that created an alarm to sound when exiting a store’s premises, so I should be covered there. The long distance phone calls I made from work were really on an emergency basis, because they normally had to do with babysitting arrangements or dinner reservations, both of which, had I not done, would have led my spouse to kill me – which would be breaking commandment number six. I was really just trying to avoid that.


4. I definitely haven’t given any false testimony against my neighbor. Every blessed word I ever said about that cheating snake was absolutely true. I just wanted to warn others so that they weren’t dragged down by her conniving ways. Really, if You think about it, I was doing a public service.


5. And lastly, I would also like to point out that any thoughts that could be considered covetous were strictly the result of undue temptation sent my way by Satan – which really makes me kind of like Job. So those things were really not my fault and I think I should be given some leeway in those areas, especially since most of the time I kept them to thoughts only and never actually acted on any of them.

Thank You very much for Your consideration of these issues and I look forward to Your speedy (and in total agreement with me) reply.

Love,

Me

Okay so maybe it’s a bit exaggerated. But think about it. God does have grace and compassion, yes. But the buck does stop. And no amount of appealing is going to help when that happens.

I'm Sick

I hate being sick. Largely because it annoys me when my carefully crafted plans have to take a back seat to my unplanned illness. And then on a smaller scale...because it's no fun to be sick when you have to fend for yourself. I should throw in a disclaimer that two people did offer to come over. One was my Mom, and I know she has long looked forward to this day at home, so I did not want to interrupt her. The other would have had to drive an hour and a half to get here and I'm not THAT sick. Not with gas prices where they are currently located.

I could feel it coming on yesterday. The aching all over, the scratchy throat - the off and on fever - the thought that hibernation would just be the greatest.

So, ditching my plans to exercise and scrap last night, I came home, made chicken noodle soup (from scratch, thankyouverymuch), changed into my scrubbies, and curled up on the love seat. Two episodes of Friends, two episodes of Andy Griffith, two episodes of Cosby, half of Pretty Woman, and two episodes of Say Yes to the Dress later, I gave up and went to bed. I didn't journal, I didn't wish the cats a lovely evening. I didn't even care.

Today I was supposed to go to the zoo with friends. Instead I've been curled up on the couch reading a recipe book, channel surfing, and eating more chicken noodle soup (and a grilled cheese).

I'll have to exit the house at some point today - the gas tank in the car is on empty and there is church in the morning. Dad is preaching, so missing the service is not an option. :)

Hopefully by then I'll feel better anyway; missing work next week is also not an option.

Growing Up in a Day

I'll admit - I'm one of those who still does a lot of reflecting on this day. 9/11 did a little bit of something different to everyone - and for me it involved growing up more quickly in that one day than any big block of time around it.

Of course everyone has the "I remember where I was when I heard..." story about this day.

I'll admit to you (with a decent amount of humiliation) that I did not even know we had twin towers in New York. I certainly didn't know they were called The World Trade Center. And, not being a watcher of news, I had no clue that anything was happening that day. I was at work, and back in those days, our division (made up of multiple offices) had monthly division meetings. September 11th was a meeting day. I remember filing into the conference room that overlooks the gym and hearing this rumbling in conversation around me, but I had no idea what anyone was talking about. I remember someone from the Admissions Office coming into the meeting and telling us that the second plane had hit - but I was still clueless.

Later that morning, I went with one of my friends to her doctor's appointment. I was supposed to be going as moral support, but I'm afraid I was too glued to the TV in the waiting room to be of much comforting service. I just sat for however many minutes she was in the office...watching in disbelief.

That afternoon, I had a dentist appointment, and I sat in the chair, letting the ladies rip my mouth apart. For the first time, I didn't even notice. I was completely engrossed in the TV coverage. I was in the dentist's chair when the news came that gas had gone up to - well - pretty much what we pay every day, now! THAT was when I started to really get scared.

Of all the lousy times to pick...my parents had gone on vacation and were in Michigan at the time. My ex-boyfriend (who was still a good friend) was gone for work, and the longer the day went on, the more I wished that one of the two would come home. I did not like feeling alone.

Back in those days, I was a consultant for a rubber stamp company, and I already had a show booked for that night. I remember calling the hostess to see if she wanted to go on, and she said she thought it would be okay. I remember calling Mom to see if she thought it would be safe to go. She said probably.

So I went. I pulled myself away from the TV long enough to go about life and try to experience some normalcy. On the way home from the show that night, I remember stopping at an unfamiliar gas station to pay the $4 a gallon to try to cushion the tank a bit. I remember glancing all around as I pumped the gas, wondering if the next attack was going to hit Indiana. Crazy - but true.

And that was the day I grew up pretty quickly. That was the day I realized the world could completely fall apart and my parents might not be there. And there might not be a man in the picture to rush to the rescue. And yet somehow I'd have to make it work. I'd have to just pick up and keep going.

What I experienced is not even comparable to what those directly involved experienced. I've been watching some of the History channel documentaries this evening - and I just can't imagine being some of these people and trying to pick up and go after being right there in all of it. No matter how much I watch...I can't grasp it.

Bits for Sunday, September 7, 2008

If you were to visit my home, you’d find that my TV is usually parked on one of two channels – HGTV or the Food Network. If I could get a TV package that allowed for only ten channels, I’d be perfectly content – as long as those two were at the top of that list. This would explain why I’m always dreaming up new décor…and why I spend so much time in the kitchen.

I absolutely love to cook. It may be one of the smallest rooms in my house, but my kitchen is the place that gets a ton of attention from me. Mom says I’m far too ambitious to begin cooking projects very late in the evening…but it’s what I love to do. It’s the perfect wind-down project before bed.

Last week I told you that I used to think I wanted to teach and then I veered far from that plan. But if I’d actually gone in that direction, and if it were still a topic that got very much attention in schools, I think teaching Home Economics (or whatever politically correct term those classes are now named) would have been my calling.

I took pretty much all those classes when I was in high school – mostly to avoid taking health. (That shouldn’t shock anyone.) We had some sort of exchange plan that allowed us to take one semester of health or four semesters of home ec. I took the long way around, but I loved every minute of it. I learned to pack brown sugar down in a measuring cup until I’d probably doubled the amount that was supposed to be in it. I learned the water displacement method for measuring shortening (thank goodness Crisco invented shortening sticks after that, because I hated all methods of measuring shortening). I learned the proper way to set a table, and so many more things.

When I was in college, I began to realize that this cooking thing was really fun. I think three years of dining hall food, no matter how good it was, finally took its toll, and I became very interested in learning to make my own cuisine. I subscribed to my first cooking magazine and received my first cooking utensils – which I still have and use.

And now, all grown up, I cook all the time. I’ve heard a lot of people say that if they didn’t “have” to cook, they wouldn’t. But for me, cooking is what makes this feel more like home. There’s nothing wrong with a bowl of cereal for dinner or a trusty cup of Ramen on the go…but there’s also nothing like a real meal on a real plate at a normal meal time. (And an ever-ready stock of cookies or brownies stashed away somewhere, of course!) Today I sat in church listening to my stomach growl, knowing that waiting at home in the slow cooker was a ham…and that a freshly assembled pan of Paula Deen’s macaroni and cheese waited to be baked, and just to honor the teaching of the Home Ec gang, there would even be a serving of peas to complete the meal.

Am I a perfect cook? Absolutely not. Angela could tell you about the angel food cake disaster (I’ve not made another one since). There was the night when I learned that chicken still on the bone takes much longer to cook than boneless. The brownies that my dad renamed “burnies.” And I’m sure there are other things I’ve blocked out entirely. But for all the mistakes, I’ve turned out to be a pretty decent cook.

And I love to share the world of food, because I agree with the fine folks on Food Network – there’s something very personal and comforting about food. (And not just the overindulgence of it.)

One of my goals for this decade was to put together a collection of my favorite and best recipes…and not just the list of ingredients and the instructions. The tips that go with them…the stories of why I love those foods and the memories they have already created for me.

So I’ve decided to share some of my favorites here so you can try them too if you’re so inclined. Below, you'll find the very first one – my favorite pancake recipe. I even added pictures in case you’re a visual learner. I’ll post new recipes from time to time and if you’re looking for something new to add to your repertoire – I invite you to check them out and even better…try them!