‘basket-case’

The phrase should denote organization and the ability to compartmentalize.

Not so.

Just a bundle of crazy.  With a myriad of loose ends.

In other news, I took my 3 kids to see Cars 2 in Temecula by myself on opening day.  Wha?!  After parking in the new parking garage (it was being built when I was here in September), I discovered that it was not the parking lot being built in September, but another altogether.  I was hence forced to push a stroller carrying literally almost 100 lbs, several blocks to the more-than-massive theater.  I was not aware that the Promenade at Temecula now resembles Victoria Gardens.

Well, it does.

Aside from my son defiling his shorts to avoid a potty break, and the subsequent TJ Maxx purchase, it went off with nary a hitch.  My children want to marry Disney/Pixar.

Darling Angels

I took this victory as encouragement.  A breakfast date with my kids at Mimi’s Cafe followed the next morning, during which time the small hellions made tremendous noise and had a delightful time devouring breakfast and several numerous sugar packets.  A dear diner informed me that I am doing a wonderful job as a mother.  How she gathered that, I will never know.  Maybe it was pity.  Maybe it was a prophecy of the future.

Despite the frazzlement, the weekend was a success.

Don’t ask me why.

I have mom hormones and they tell me odd things.

 

Hi, Chubbs!

no fear in ❤

Jesus meets us where we are.  Sometimes that’s at Starbucks.

I am afraid because I do not know Him.

I cannot know Him since I stay at arm’s length.

I keep Him at arm’s length because I am afraid of what He will say to me.

He will not let me keep Him so far away, so He has shortened my arm so that I may see Him clearly.

He shows His face clearly that I may love Him in truth because perfect love casts out fear.

To be afraid and to not know Him in truth is to not revere Him as He worthy.

A trick of the enemy of souls is to replace the reverence that comes of intimacy with Him with fear that propagates distance.

If I am afraid of Him, it is because I do not know Him in truth.

When I have let perfect love pry the fear from my terrified grasp, I see Him for the Loving that He is.

The shadows cease to reach for me, for I see in them the everlasting arms of Almighty God.

I see in them the beckoning of Everlasting Father.

The gentle remodeling of Wonderful Counselor.

❤

❤      1 John 4:18  ”There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.”
❤      Deuteronomy 33:27  “The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms.“
❤      Isaiah 9:6  ”Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

 

bread, yo!

Got a wheat mill?

I gots this one.

I also have a breadmaker but it’s so old or discontinued that I found simply nothing when searching the great wide web for pictures.  I find myself forced to describe it.  And compare to one with which I would like to replace it.  Mine makes a 1-lb loaf and simply has an on/off switch (i lied.  it’s start/stop), and a warming setting which automatically kicks in upon completion of loaf baking (and can dry out the loaf if left unattended for any extended length of time.   It is a great little machine.  I have really no complaints save for the fact that I am impatient and would like a window in the top so I can watch the little baby dough grow into a mature loaf.  A 2-lb loaf wouldn’t be bad either.  Now to set up a donation page…

As it stands now, the baking cycle takes 2 hours and 19 minutes.

Measuring the ingredients into the baking pan must be done in precisely the order in which I command.  Otherwise, the world will implode.  Also, your loaf of bread will suck and will win no ribbons at the county fair.

So mill your darn wheat berries, people.  I use Prairie Gold White Wheat berries for bread.  I’m not entirely sure why.  Something to do with the texture and weight of the loaf I think.   I’m still learning all this stuff.  And you’ll also have to eyeball how much wheat to mill for the amount of flour the recipe calls for.  It’s a learning process.   And the fact that I’m blogging does not mean that I’m an expert.  That would be my mom.  But she refuses to blog.  To share her knowledge with the world.  As well as her humor.  I consider it selfishness.  And, yes.  She will read this.

The ingredients can be purchased at your local Henry’s, Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, Mother’s Market, etc.  Except for the prairie gold white wheat berries.  I get mine here.

So, measure into the baking pan (or whatever the technical term is):

For a 1lb loaf…

3/4 cup coconut milk, hot

2 Tb & 2 tsp honey

2 Tb & 2 tsp coconut oil

1 tsp salt

2 1/4 cup flour

1/2 Tb active dry yeast

~

For a 2lb loaf…

1 1/2 cup coconut milk, hot

1/3 cup honey

1/3 cup coconut oil

2 tsp salt

4 1/2 cup flour

1 Tb active dry yeast

~

There are things you can add to the bread to make it healthier or more awesome, but since I have recently mastered the art of walking from one end of my kitchen to the other without tripping, I will add these things as I learn them.

And then I will blog.

Unlike my mom.

Did no one teach her about sharing?

friend

Jim and I are visiting the west coast.  Or the left coast.  Whichever you prefer.

Because North is always up on the map.

Which is good, because other than that, there is no way I’d know “which way’s up”.

The last foray into the Wild West occurred approximately 9 months ago around the 3rd anniversary of my first-born’s birth.  September has been sometime ago, and the previous sighting of the various family members and friends took place some 2 years prior upon our relocation to the right coast.  Ahem.

After spending a week in the OC, visiting the Pacific, Disneyland, and Fisherman’s (for the renowned red chowder), we made our way to Hemet/San Jacinto to spend time with the other half of the family.

Snatching a few hours for myself, I escaped the others with Emberleigh, and set out on an adventure (cue “Cat in the Hat” theme song).  First Target, since she loses a pair of earrings at some point on each venture west.  (why don’t I pack extras?!)  Then, from memory, I attempted to locate my friend’s house.  Without GPS assistance.  Really.  Am I stupid?  You should all know by now of my inability to navigate even the neatest of grids without clear directions.  If not, I should blog more.

Against all odds, all reason, and all logic, I found her house.  I felt my way there.  I remembered an intersection that reminded me of her.  Which was silly, since I’d also met her once at a park there.  She does not, I repeat, does not, live at the park.  From there, I sought out street names that sounded familiar, a dangerous employ, since my brain has the innate ability to make me believe I remember things that I have just now seen.  From one turn to the other, I attempted to talk my blood pressure into lowering.  At last, I glanced at a street sign bearing a name that indeed resonated as familiar.

Then, I proceeded to wrack my brain for the specific house number at which to locate her.  And to look for the funnest, most creative front yard on the street.  My poor, sad, dilapidated brain did not, for once, disappoint.  I was floored.  I’m convinced it’s the milled wheat.  It is the bread of life.  Not to be confused with the Bread of Life.

As I stood at her doorstep, ringing the doorbell, I received a Facebook message on my SmartPhone.  The missive informed me that she would be arriving in approximately 15 minutes.  And that the message had been sent about a 1/4 hour previous.  Also, that I had indeed guessed properly which house is her dwelling.

We picked up where we had left off so many months prior, and even more time before that.  Chatting about health, diet, kids, homeschool, life, love, marriage, and whatever else we’re both involved in.

“I thank my God in all my remembrance of you.”

She has never ceased to be an amazing friend.  No matter that we don’t often speak between visits.  I am always encouraged about life when I leave her presence.  When talking with her about the events that have passed since we last spoke, I hear myself saying things I wasn’t aware that I had learned.  I think the Lord uses our time together to remind me how much He’s changed me and helped me grow up.  I can see more clearly that He’s been walking with me the whole time despite how confused or muddled I’ve been.  It’s an almost effortless relationship in a time in my life where it seems everything else requires so much energy.  And I think of Anne of Green Gables.  You know, kindred spirits and all.

Besides, she has a cute house.  And she sews.  And decorates all cute and junk.

And I will miss her for another few months, give or take…

Thank you for being wonderful, friend.  You know who you are.  I love you.

Then there’s this guy.

Jim

Father of my children.

Bringer home of the bacon.

That guy with the morning breath every day.

Demands meals from time to time.

Etc.

For being thrown in the deep end, he learned to swim awfully quickly and for that I am super proud of him.

And he’s sorta cute sometimes.

When my complicated self drives him to frustration.

And when he doesn’t have to shave for work.

Ahem…

Ok, 3′s enough for now.

.

.

.

.

.

.

I’m shutting up.

And, I love you, dork.

Significance

You know how some people say that their dad is the best dad ever?

Or the best dad they’ve ever had?

Etc?

Blah, blah, blah…

It’s just a saying.

Unless you really have a comparison to make.

Then it’s not just hot air coming from your back end.

My Pop kinda blows the comparison outa the park.

He rules.

Amen.

sometimes it's funny

Happy Father’s Day, Pop.

I love you.

 

SoCal ’11 Vacay

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vacation’s a beach.

Have you ever taken 3 wild monkeys to Disneyland?

Me neither.

Just 3 toddlers.

All my princesses in front of the Castle.

The misery-o-meter tilted towards “dangerous levels of toxin” at a few strategic points, but the kiddos remembered so much from last year’s vacation that the magic buried deep in the bowels of my soul could not resist.  Emberleigh’s face as she took in the Happiest Place on Earth reached into the future and mellowed any trace of frustration that would take place.  Molly sat agog at the varying levels of amazement that are “Small World”.  Levi’s sense of accomplishment at the defeat of Evil Emperor Zurg has repeatedly been relived in the 48 hours following.

Granted, Molly screamed bloody murder at the touch of Toy Story’s Jessie.  Levi hid his heart in the depths of Jim’s armpit.  On the other hand, Emberleigh’s embrace of the larger-than-life animated hero & heroine was sublime in it’s utter capacity of adorable.

Princess Spiderman & Friends

 

The beach also happened.  The day before Disneyland.  And since this is my blog chronology is not imperative.

the vacationing three

Jim & I got to go on a date.

To P.F. Chang’s.

Amen.

The food was delicious and I was (am) hott.

 

 

mourning into dough

Plans were drawn up for an extensive SoCal vacation following closely on the heels of a dietary transition which I had heretofore deemed successful.  Since wheat mills and bread makers are not acceptable carry-on luggage, nor are they easily checked as suitcase contents, my heart faltered at the thought of the so-far benefits of my healthy-living campaign being flushed down the toilet with recently regular bowel activity.

3 weeks is the length of time it takes to make and/or break a habit.  I think I heard that somewhere.  I also have a habit of making stuff up and convincing my nutrient-starved gray-matter that I have in fact recalled a previously-acquired piece of information/trivia.  3 weeks is the length of time my wheat mill will be without me, causing me to be a weep mill.  Vacation is not vegan-friendly.  Time off is not, however, time off from our natural bodily processes.

I found a bread maker in my mother-in-law’s cabinet.  I also found a beast of a blender, a food processor, a Trader Joe’s, and a health/whole foods store called Mother’s Market.  Heaven.  Ahem.  Not in Jeannie’s cabinet.  But nearby.

I attempted to mill wheat berries in a coffee grinder.  This proved unsuccessful upon burning out of said appliance.  That’s what I get for purchasing from the bottom of the totem pole, food chain, etc…

Suffice it to say, that 3 hours later, a heartier than usual, and slightly less responsive to leaven, loaf of perseverance, I mean bread, was birthed from the womb of the bread machine.  Creepy.  I know.  I’m trying to convince myself that I don’t want to be pregnant soon.  The repressed thoughts are finding escape by unorthodox phrases and word pictures.

The bread made my intestines, I mean taste buds, sing for sheer pleasure.

It appears my thoughts refuse to be in order tonight.

But I made a loaf of fresh-milled-wheat bread in a land of no wheat mill.   The taste rivals all bread ever created by these desperate hands.  Or by bread makers filled with ingredients by said appendages.

There is pride in my heart.

Amen.

We’re here…