tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38429530659639060022024-03-12T17:10:30.936-07:00Little Home in the CityJenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.comBlogger207125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-16347321014568747052013-04-15T15:13:00.000-07:002013-04-15T15:13:19.288-07:00He Leadeth MeMy grandfather passed away in January, just two weeks before I gave birth to our sweet daughter Aivenne. I still ache when I think how he just missed getting to hold her but I am continually comforted at the joyful thought of her running into his embrace in Heaven. This last week I was given (among other things I treasure) a little devotional book of his entitled <u>He Leadeth Me </u>by V. Raymond Edman, who was the president of Wheaton College when the book was published (copyright 1959). Inside the book I have found dates (1966!) and check marks where my grandpa noted sections that he used in sermons and prayers. I forgot to mention that my grandpa was a preacher. I loved my grandpa and although he was a little bit of a mystery to me at times, I am forever thankful for his love of Jesus that touched my life and so many others. Every portion that I have read in this book has not failed to move, convict, encourage and touch me in some way. I'm thankful to Grandpa for leaving this for me to pour over and to have this in common in our spiritual journeys.<br />
<br />
<i>He Leadeth Me</i><br />
<br />
He leadeth me. <br />
In pastures green? No, not always.<br />
Sometimes He who knoweth best<br />
In kindness leadeth me in weary ways<br />
Where heavy shadows be;<br />
Out of the sunshine warm and soft and bright,<br />
Out of the sunshine into the darkest night.<br />
I oft would yield to sorrow and to fright<br />
Only for this: I know He holds my hand.<br />
So, whether led in green, or desert land<br />
I trust, although I cannot understand.<br />
<br />
He leadeth me.<br />
Beside still waters? No, not always so.<br />
Oft times the heavy tempests round me blow,<br />
And o'er my soul the waves and billows go.<br />
But when the storm beats wildest, and I cry<br />
Aloud for help, the Master standeth by<br />
And whispers to my soul: "Lo, it is I."<br />
Above the tempest wild I hear Him say:<br />
"Beyond the darkness lies the perfect day;<br />
In every path of thine I lead the way."<br />
<br />
So whether on the hilltops, high and fair<br />
I dwell, or in the sunless valleys, where<br />
The shadows lie- what matter? He is there.<br />
And more than this; where'er the pathway lead<br />
He gives to me no helpless, broken reed,<br />
But His Own hand, sufficient for my need.<br />
So where He leads me I can safely go.<br />
And in the blest hereafter I shall know<br />
Why in His wisdom He hath led me so.<br />
-<i>Author Unknown</i> Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-21095495995614892122012-03-28T07:03:00.000-07:002012-03-27T22:04:02.234-07:00cracking the code on eggsToday I have the honor of being a guest blogger on my sister's blog. If you don't follow her already, you should- she's creative, smart, funny, beautiful- AND she posts regularly. Head on over to <a href="http://www.thesproutedroot.com/" target="_blank">The Sprouted Root</a> to check it out!!!Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-47172129724911992462012-03-19T10:40:00.000-07:002012-03-19T10:40:37.947-07:00St. Paddy's Day Soup: Cheddar CeleryGreen soup has the potential to be a little terrifying. So St. Paddy's day is a great excuse for trying out a new recipe. Enter Cheddar Celery Soup. Normally I would let you know it's delicious but Selah pronounces it "good-licious" so I'm going to stick with that. Actually if I'm being completely honest, she refused to eat this soup and when I swiped a little bit across her lips so she could actually <i>taste</i> it before hating it she turned to me, scowled with the nastiest possible look, tears in her eyes and yelled, "Nassy!! Goss!!" But she really does say good-licious. Just not for this soup. <br />
So while Cheddar Celery Soup does not have a stamp of approval from the two year old, the rest of us in the house happily slurped up the whole pot. It also has the advantage of being a great way to get in a significant portion of your daily veggie allotment. We served it alongside a gorgonzola chicken marsala dish- altogether a highly flavorful meal.<br />
<br />
<br />
<u><b>Cheddar Celery Soup</b></u><br />
<b> </b><br />
1 head of celery<br />
1 onion, chopped<br />
<b> </b>2+ Tbsp. butter<br />
1 quart chicken stock<br />
1 c. grated cheddar cheese<br />
salt and pepper to taste<br />
<br />
Saute the onions in the butter for 5 minutes until soft but not brown. Clean and chop the celery, including the leaves. Save a few leaves for garnish. Add the celery to the onions and stir. Then cover and cook on low heat for 10 minutes.<br />
Add the stock and simmer, covered, for 30 minutes or until the celery is very soft. Add the cheese and puree with a hand blender. (Regular blender of food processor will also work). Serve with a few celery leaves as a garnish.Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-12623769857310291422012-03-16T19:56:00.001-07:002012-03-16T19:59:25.975-07:00Rapidly Deteriorating... Trailer LifeWe've been living in a travel trailer... in the driveway... at my parents'... for a month now. So far things have been supernaturally going swimmingly. Truly. We give God the glory and praise for the peace and enjoyment we've had while living out this little adventure. We've taken opportunities to spend a day at the coast, a few miscellaneous date nights for Mike and I, rotated cooking dinners and trying new recipes (pan-fried oysters, marsala chicken with gorgonzola cheese, sausage with apples and sweet potatoes, etc.), lounged by the fireplace and indulged in near-nightly popcorn and numerous episodes of Cold Case (and been subjected to a few hunting videos- rather unwillingly for yours truly), polished off bags and loaves of gluten-free this and that and stayed up many a late night listening to the rain, wind and occasional snow/hail pelt the trailer.<br />
<br />
Trailer life has been pretty eventful. It took us a little while to adjust to the occasional headlights shining through the windows and the late-night snow-tired-studded cruiser practically crawling down the street. It took us a little longer to ignore the near gale-like winds rocking the trailer from side to side. I didn't get used to the propane running out in the middle of the night and leaving us without heat; the snow outside on the ground made sure the propane tanks were refilled in time for the next sleep. The leak that sprang from the vent above our bed wasn't allowed to drip for too long before being addressed. The tarp that was placed over that vent to keep the weather and water out worked great, even though the rain came down in sheets that night. Another perk of that tarp: even though there were near-unmeasurable quantities of rain I could've sworn I could count every single drop as each drop hit that tarp. The mold that we found creeping up the walls is apparently of the non-toxic genre; I swear I had trouble breathing the night we discovered it but my sore throat was gone pretty quickly the next day. The mold actually cleans up quite nicely but for now we're going to be bunking with the girls in the back bedroom of the house. It gives us just a little more twist to this crazy adventure.Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-21682590428239184902012-01-19T18:37:00.000-08:002012-01-19T18:37:46.328-08:00"...She said to herself..."Eileigh has been cracking me up lately. I find myself scribbling down things she says throughout the day on whatever scraps of paper I can find... all to be transcribed at some point into my journal for future reflection and enjoyment. I understand that no one else will find these even as close to amusing as do her parents but I wanted to have them all in one spot. So bear with a mother who adores her children. :)<br />
<br />
She has taken to occasionally narrating what she is doing. Often I will hear her quietly talking to herself and she will finish it with "... she said to herself."<br />
<br />
We had "Porcupines" for dinner- you know, meatballs with rice. Eileigh asked her proud Daddy if he shot the porcupine we were eating. (Answer: kind of. It was really deer meat and he had harvested it... so... yes?)<br />
<br />
She loves to cook in her play kitchen. Today at nap time she informed me that she was making a cake... flour, eggs, and "I pinched a little bit of salt. I pinched it." while holding up her fingers to show me just a little bit.<br />
<br />
She referred to her Papa and Grammie. I clarified, Papa Jack and Grammie Coffee? She answered, "Your husband's mommy and daddy." Okay then!<br />
<br />
We were looking at a picture of otters sitting on a plaid blanket and having a picnic lunch of minnows, bread and sparkling cider. She said "They can't have bibs!" Of course I thought it might be because otters don't generally sit around having picnic lunches but I just asked her, Why not? Her insightful answer: "Because the fishies aren't messy."<br />
<br />
She will occasionally respond to me with, "Yes, your Majesty" or "Yes, my Majesty". I really don't see the need for correction on this one. :)Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-8044439347978608292012-01-06T15:37:00.000-08:002012-01-06T15:37:08.120-08:00Stuffed Pillowcases: Deep ThoughtsTip: Put your bedsheets and second pillowcase inside the first one for storage.<br />
<br />
Question: Why would I ever want to do that? <br />
<br />
Theory: Keeps everything together, no spare pillowcase to get lost.<br />
<br />
Rebuttal: I hate this tip. I even tried it once and cannot make it work. I have an absolutely lovely friend whose life has been completely renewed by now stuffing her pillowcases in this manner. I think what drives me nuts first of all is that it makes just an unsightly lump of sack-filled sheets unfit for stacking and better equipped for stuffing into an already packed closet shelf. Furthermore, my pillowcases are apparently too long and end up having a tail (do I fold it back under or do I just loosen up the whole package and let it ooze out over the shelf?), becoming the very antithesis of a neatly folded pile. I also must question the obvious... how do pillowcases get lost on a closet shelf? If they are removed by someone needing a clean pillowcase then it is just as possible to lose one housed in a pillowcase-sack as it is in a pillowcase-pile. The return of wayward single pillowcase is just as easy (and dare I say <i>easier</i>?) to a stack than a sack. Finally (and this moves beyond a deep thought to a deep-seated issue), by having all of the sheets inside a pillowcase, the pillowcase is open and exposed, most of its surfaces touching and being touched by any manner of objects. Completely negates the freshness factor a tightly folded pillowcase can bring to a newly dressed bed.<br />
<br />
Solution: After laundering a set of bedsheets and pillowcases, fold each item as neatly as you prefer, place altogether in a stack (prodigal pillowcase option: sandwich folded pillowcases in between the flat and the fitted) and stuff as neatly as preferred into whatever space is available on the shelf. <br />
<br />
Warning: If you ever stop by for a visit, don't open the door to my linen closet. You may have a pile of sheets fall out neatly on your head.Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-59401762840290715612012-01-03T21:22:00.000-08:002012-01-03T21:22:56.769-08:00Taking the Trash Out: A Doctor's VisitI fight and I fight. Sometimes I gain some turf. Sometimes it's a losing battle. What is this battle, you ask? It's one I think most, if not all mothers... wives... women (I don't know how much to generalize here- maybe it really is just me) wrestle with. Maintenance vs. Letting Things Go. Balance. Class vs. Trash. Today= Class 0, Trash 1.<br />
<br />
I would just like to note beforehand that as of late we've been coasting along pretty well. I took Eileigh's questions about getting dressed ("Where are we going?") and house cleaning ("Is Daddy coming home today?") to heart and decided that perhaps I was flirting dangerously with a line that is best avoided and have been working to improve such areas. This of course includes demolishing certain post-childbirth beliefs such as putting a bra on underneath the sweats you wore to bed the night before consists of "getting dressed for the day". Needless to say, it's a work in progress.<br />
<br />
Last night the girls both spiked pretty high fevers after a day of... let's just say an extremely quickly moving digestive system. I was up throughout the night with Eileigh, who seemed to suffer the most. Selah's fever broke around 4:30am and they both crawled into bed with me around 5:00am, insisting they really would go to sleep and allow me a few moments of restful bliss as well. Eileigh kept worming her way on top of me while Selah spent her time alternating between quietly sucking her thumb and punctuating the quiet darkness with a quick jab to my eye, "Eye", a strong grip of fingers squeezing my chin, "Chin", and a deft single-hair-pulling pluck, "Hair". I decided we could work on co-sleeping another time and they slept a couple more hours back in their own beds. <br />
<br />
I dragged through the morning, changing Selah at least three times due to unfortunate leakage. The kind where the diaper doesn't even have time to absorb the fast flow so it just shoots out the side and down the leg. I decided to put Selah in a cloth diaper for our mid-morning trip to the doctor's since cloth (although not thrilling to clean when sick) does a much better job of containing said liquid contaminants. Due to an important phone call, a late start and the inevitable getting-stuck-behind-the-truck-driving-15-miles-below-the-speed-limit I breezed into the doctors' office about 10 minutes late. However, a few other things were right on schedule. That would be Selah's impeccable timing of removing both socks and shoes three minutes before our (late) arrival and her subsequent chucking and losing of one sock somewhere to the recesses of our car. As I pulled her from the carseat I also happened to notice she had completely soaked through her diaper, onesie and pants. Much to my relief it was only urine. Much to my chagrin, in the haste to get out the door I had neglected to pack any spare clothing for her and found myself with a half-naked little girl running around the lobby in only a diaper and a thermal hoodie. Much to my further dismay I discovered that the only spare Selah-sized item of clothing I had in the diaper bag was in fact one sad, lone, gray-heeled sock. I now realized I had to make the choice of either putting her shoes of choice (dressy black Mary Janes) back on her without socks OR putting the pants-less girl in one athletic gray-heeled sock and one green-scalloped-edged dress sock. Seeing as how it is winter time and since I'm out of running for Mother-of-the-Year already I decided to go with the mismatched socks and buckled the dress shoes back on. About that time Eileigh decided she was too hot and took off her turquoise jacket. Light bulb went on and I thought, Hey, that should be long enough to cover most of Selah's legs... almost like a dress. That would be soo much better. So I put it on Selah. Not only was it not even close to long enough to cover the diaper, I was forced to roll up the sleeves about four times since Selah instantly loved wearing Eileigh's jacket and wouldn't take it off willingly for anything. She waltzed all around the lobby proudly while I slunk down into acceptance: Yep, I'm <i>that</i> mom.<br />
<br />
I know what they say: You win some, you lose some. I think losing a big chunk of pride might be the best win of all. Embarrassing almost to the point of painful. Nothing like these God-gifts we call children to humble the pride right out of you. Tomorrow I start afresh. And with a full set of spare clothes packed in the diaper bag.Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-61061690369317531052011-12-24T19:55:00.000-08:002011-12-24T19:55:25.306-08:00EGGnog: The Real Deal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VaCFSSsnSRU/TvaPeONfcgI/AAAAAAAABS4/dMFtx7-bH3Q/s1600/IMG_1468.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VaCFSSsnSRU/TvaPeONfcgI/AAAAAAAABS4/dMFtx7-bH3Q/s320/IMG_1468.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Tradition has it that every year (at least for the last three or four years) I whip up a batch of eggnog. Of course I only do it at Christmas time and it is indubitably declared a delicious but once-a-year indulgence. All that is now going to change. I foresee an integration of this beverage into our regular, non-holiday existence. This is because I now have a recipe so healthy it's almost a crime NOT to drink it on a reasonably regular basis. Chock full of a few of my favorite things: raw milk, raw egg yolks and raw honey. It tastes AMAZEing. Much better than the high fructose CornNog at the store. :) As always, get your food from a reputable source and make sure the cows are grass fed and the chickies are pasture run (the closer to orange your yolks are, the better). Save the egg whites to make meringue since raw egg whites can block your body's absorption of biotin (resulting in hair loss... not highly recommended). I'm told that freshly grated nutmeg really "makes" this recipe and maybe I'll get myself a little <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Microplane-Grate-Nutmeg-Grinder-Grater/dp/B000CO017G/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1324782730&sr=8-2" target="_blank">nutmeg grinder</a> in the future but for now I'm going to use up the rest of my already-ground nutmeg. It's still delish. The girls surely think so. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OYCGVRLbn04/TvaQ_rg2zGI/AAAAAAAABTQ/uKiTJxVj-vY/s1600/IMG_1447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OYCGVRLbn04/TvaQ_rg2zGI/AAAAAAAABTQ/uKiTJxVj-vY/s320/IMG_1447.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FFjoFVrtPPQ/TvaP87JWzXI/AAAAAAAABTE/Qh3Uo1x47Bc/s1600/IMG_1447.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
<u><b>Eggnog </b></u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2 c. raw whole milk</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2 c. cream (preferably raw, at least organic, not ultra-pasteurized)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> 8 large egg yolks (preferably pastured, at least organic free-range)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1/4 c. raw honey or Grade B maple syrup </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 tsp. vanilla extract (I used homemade vanilla extract made with rum for extra flavor)</div>Freshly grated nutmeg to sprinkle on top<br />
Optional: Good Kentucky bourbon or rum<br />
<br />
Blend ingredients together in blender or food processor until smooth. Pour into glasses and add bourbon or rum if desired. Grate fresh nutmeg over each glass and serve. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gQZIbmQ7YBA/TvaOfYdxU2I/AAAAAAAABSU/USBREqCv1OU/s1600/IMG_1458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gQZIbmQ7YBA/TvaOfYdxU2I/AAAAAAAABSU/USBREqCv1OU/s320/IMG_1458.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Good....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-twKItFilULA/TvaOpLqHS3I/AAAAAAAABSc/1xDbpuXUvKY/s1600/IMG_1462.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-twKItFilULA/TvaOpLqHS3I/AAAAAAAABSc/1xDbpuXUvKY/s320/IMG_1462.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> ...to the last....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nXOljagX1uo/TvaOwGvNpdI/AAAAAAAABSk/ksp3jaO4PJc/s1600/IMG_1463.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nXOljagX1uo/TvaOwGvNpdI/AAAAAAAABSk/ksp3jaO4PJc/s320/IMG_1463.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> drop.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E1k3rbmXzHw/TvaORDN9QjI/AAAAAAAABSM/CnNGTHj6C3c/s1600/IMG_1452.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E1k3rbmXzHw/TvaORDN9QjI/AAAAAAAABSM/CnNGTHj6C3c/s320/IMG_1452.jpg" width="213" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FFjoFVrtPPQ/TvaP87JWzXI/AAAAAAAABTE/Qh3Uo1x47Bc/s1600/IMG_1447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VaCFSSsnSRU/TvaPeONfcgI/AAAAAAAABS4/dMFtx7-bH3Q/s1600/IMG_1468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-80421060915022345552011-12-22T20:13:00.000-08:002011-12-22T20:13:50.374-08:00First Letter to Santa: Snowman edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QsDJU6X4I-c/TvP8_q9I5HI/AAAAAAAABR4/VdA-SbTkXpk/s400/IMG_1437.JPG" width="400" /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Most of what we've told the girls about Santa has been in relation to the historical Saint Nicholas, peppered in with some info about his "helpers" that you see dressed up around the malls and finally topped off with a small amount of whimsy as the "elves" bring the girls goodies every morning in the Elf Pails hanging on the Christmas tree. It makes for some interesting questions, such as "How do the elves get to our house every morning? Do they walk?" (we thought that perhaps they take Santa's sleigh out for a spin...)... until... "Is Santa up in Heaven?" and then it all gets a bunch more muddled from there. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At the post office a couple days ago Eileigh spotted the little red mailbox for the Santa letters and insisted that she get hers mailed off. I think it had more to do with the stamping and mailing than it did with Santa but she proudly drew her snowman and then asked me how to spell Santa's name, carefully writing each letter after I said it. Just so you know, she didn't scribble over his eyes, she just colored them in because they needed to be brown. (This was with a black pen. Eh. You win some, you lose some.)</div>Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-91181346257981896672011-12-06T21:25:00.000-08:002011-12-06T21:25:48.149-08:00Coq Au Vin at Le Fire StationneSure that's French. Rolls right off the tongue. Better than "caserne de pompiers" which would be the official French phrase for fire station as defined by the dictionary <span style="font-size: x-small;">(or at least the first French definition that Googled itself up)<span style="font-size: small;">. As long as you say it with a French accent </span></span>you'll be good to go. Now this story just got a little better. As I further realized I don't actually know how an (<span style="font-size: x-small;">authentic<span style="font-size: small;">) </span></span>French-speaking person would pronounce Coq Au Vin I decided to Google that up as well. I'd been pronouncing it "coke au vinn" to myself and anyone in hearing range so I snickered as I read the pronunciation and then listened to the audio clip: kawk au VAN. Then the light shone through my mental fog as I further realized it did not just mean Chicken In Wine but in fact, the literal translation would be Cock in Wine. I think I may have snickered myself back to Jr. High. Luckily Mike's working and I've been spared the official eye roll. :)<br />
<br />
So this morning we planned on a make-up Music class session and then ferrying dinner over to Mike at the station. Do you ever have those days where you're all dressed up and ready to go and just want to get out and do whatever, enjoy your freedom... Why does it always happen to be that ONE day that you already have something else to do that's important? Why couldn't I get one of those motivated-for-fun days on a day that I often end up wearing exactly what I slept in the night before because I have no good reason to get out of those grubbies? <span style="font-size: x-small;">(These would be days Mike is on shift. Mostly.)<span style="font-size: small;"> All this to say that I ran out of time and had to choose: Class or Coq? </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Coq au vin (winner!) was surprisingly simple for all of the flavor going on. Perhaps that's because it's braised in an entire bottle of red wine. I love this meal for winter- I think of it as highfalutin' comfort food. Simple. GOOD. Just make sure you get the pronunciation correct when you serve it to your dinner guests. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Coq Au Vin</b></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">4 Tbsp. butter</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> </b>4 lbs. bone-in, skin-on chicken pieces (split breasts cut in half, drumsticks and/or thighs)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sea salt and pepper</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">10 oz. or about 1-1/2 c. mushrooms, cleaned and quartered (I used 12 oz... the more the merrier)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">1 c. sliced shallots</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">2 cloves garlic, minced</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">1 tsp. fresh thyme leaves </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">1 tsp. fresh rosemary</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">1 Tbsp. tomato paste</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">1 bottle dry red wine</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">3 c. chicken broth</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">3 bay leaves</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">2 Tbsp. butter, chilled and cut into pieces (to be added at the end of cooking, optional but do it)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">2 Tbsp. minced fresh parsley</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Heat the butter in a large Dutch oven over medium high heat. Season the chicken with salt and pepper and brown on both sides for about 8-10 minutes. Reduce the heat if the pan begins to scorch. You may need to brown the chicken in two batches depending on the size of your pan. Transfer the browned chicken to a plate. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Pour off all but 1 Tbsp. of the liquid left in the pan and cook mushrooms, shallots and salt over medium heat until lightly browned or for about 10 minutes. Stir in the garlic, thyme and rosemary and cook for 30 seconds longer. Stir in tomato paste and cook for 1 minute longer, stirring constantly. Slowly add wine while scraping up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Then slowly stir in the chicken broth. Stir in the bay leaves and bring to a slow simmer.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Add the chicken back into the pot making sure all the pieces are covered with the braising liquid. Cover and reduce the heat to medium-low. Simmer gently until the chicken is fully cooked. This will take about 40 minutes.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Transfer the chicken to your serving platter and over to keep warm. Continue to simmer the braising liquid over medium-high heat until it has thickened and measures about 2 cups. This will take about 20 minutes longer. Once you reach this point, turn off the heat, remove the bay leaves, whisk in the chilled butter (optional but not really, you must do it), and season with salt and pepper to taste. Spoon sauce over the chicken and sprinkle with parsley.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Visiting Daddy at the Station is never complete without a thorough exploration of the "Weeyu-weeyus". </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCb5n_LTSWGjR8q8nl5GXJfixsFtUwg4hqfRy5vFR9fwIj2jGirTGIE4ked1AZT8d2CDlT8m_1Kfjk52PvTJv8GQuAWIN88VRHRevjyFH_yLnmLvF8ibQ1g1Ifv9gg8gfLsJVL67gMnMUj/s1600/IMG_0824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCb5n_LTSWGjR8q8nl5GXJfixsFtUwg4hqfRy5vFR9fwIj2jGirTGIE4ked1AZT8d2CDlT8m_1Kfjk52PvTJv8GQuAWIN88VRHRevjyFH_yLnmLvF8ibQ1g1Ifv9gg8gfLsJVL67gMnMUj/s400/IMG_0824.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Eileigh's favorite: pulling the cord for the bell</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80C9M-KGQ_C7XmstUZUOmB5WbgfxIYNXemlK5FXW3ta_1eeeQHVgxpGnhPIQJjvWzFQ8DcE55F1uTL0B8CAHIunTQyZeb4_Q0l4e22cyZQUExnQPsovJ5fPWX6gxZHEN2xBww19DQF95Q/s1600/IMG_0830.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80C9M-KGQ_C7XmstUZUOmB5WbgfxIYNXemlK5FXW3ta_1eeeQHVgxpGnhPIQJjvWzFQ8DcE55F1uTL0B8CAHIunTQyZeb4_Q0l4e22cyZQUExnQPsovJ5fPWX6gxZHEN2xBww19DQF95Q/s400/IMG_0830.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Oh how I love this girl!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYkW4fycSs-_ZNy3AT8Wy3UwH0avHOH_tyj34m2hJ1fEBgG9xzNdyADRA7id0haotRcsGxUhMjQ7SDfp7_yvIpHQ0CEIH_r5butrBq-lYNgURKpuW0x0-uG6u7NzqKam-TYZSaBbBeSBcK/s1600/IMG_0834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYkW4fycSs-_ZNy3AT8Wy3UwH0avHOH_tyj34m2hJ1fEBgG9xzNdyADRA7id0haotRcsGxUhMjQ7SDfp7_yvIpHQ0CEIH_r5butrBq-lYNgURKpuW0x0-uG6u7NzqKam-TYZSaBbBeSBcK/s400/IMG_0834.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHr-2Hqf8HIblWD80hcbpIaAlhK-5sg7UyKlzeqtOmTguLT5ZJtK0OPDOcU2L8dUpItLdhioMJ-Ee5UT08XOMViIX97BAf5kOHolW78jDmzsW7iXfUYRgWw1ZIJdqGDxHWJEd2Ha2CzFCr/s1600/IMG_0841.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHr-2Hqf8HIblWD80hcbpIaAlhK-5sg7UyKlzeqtOmTguLT5ZJtK0OPDOcU2L8dUpItLdhioMJ-Ee5UT08XOMViIX97BAf5kOHolW78jDmzsW7iXfUYRgWw1ZIJdqGDxHWJEd2Ha2CzFCr/s400/IMG_0841.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS7J-cR4fPyLDOWWbmYdDYxIfAxFnAeR9mXp9Qv-j7WcPAs56dNC1PoFGak26eiE0_BjN-2-atx_vpQ7_SHx9_lFVCOLPR8f-Rdq9YZhgd-KOQBJC-saeddKvv0-68vO__k99LoCCEmslp/s1600/IMG_0860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS7J-cR4fPyLDOWWbmYdDYxIfAxFnAeR9mXp9Qv-j7WcPAs56dNC1PoFGak26eiE0_BjN-2-atx_vpQ7_SHx9_lFVCOLPR8f-Rdq9YZhgd-KOQBJC-saeddKvv0-68vO__k99LoCCEmslp/s400/IMG_0860.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuNj3310qbNN4Gb6pk7aoFiL8msaCvJcgQQJRlO9rd94u7L1oQTHCPmA0oSSm3X8uPeeasOKJIqDValCMsVC22blCdZ8YJNYkUxxXaSHuajD64lXznivfxx8y3lWUYJldNCIWHWOXEU5k9/s1600/IMG_0865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuNj3310qbNN4Gb6pk7aoFiL8msaCvJcgQQJRlO9rd94u7L1oQTHCPmA0oSSm3X8uPeeasOKJIqDValCMsVC22blCdZ8YJNYkUxxXaSHuajD64lXznivfxx8y3lWUYJldNCIWHWOXEU5k9/s400/IMG_0865.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Note: not a fan of loud noises. Or even slightly noisy ones.</span></span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span>Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-64265173334522349902011-12-05T12:43:00.000-08:002011-12-05T12:43:55.948-08:00Take 'Em for a Ride on My Big Green Tractor<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our garage is temporarily housing a riding lawn mower. I'm hoping "temporarily" doesn't evolve into a redefinition of the word embracing some form of permanency. Not that I've been able to park in the garage for over a year anyways. Sigh. Mike and I used to pride ourselves that we could actually park our car in the garage. Pride + Growth (Life happening) = Humbling. And so we learn that the apples really don't fall so far from the trees. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Yesterday we bundled up the girls and Mike took each one for a spin on the "tractor". Since we're not quite up to sizeable country acreage that would actually require a riding lawn mower, we did it city-style: cutting cookies in the cul-de-sac. It cracked me up to watch Mike fire it up, sit a girl on his lap and drive off into the near-sunset... all the while never even getting close to the grass and just driving around on the street as the girls spun the wheel whichever way the chose. In retrospect I think this really helps the image we're working on with those burnt-out Christmas lights. </div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzIA_CJjEJ8PieDyxJOwlJtCSlQmXo7XKIHtvzBcCfiz9NQU4I8aORRKuSIWint2HbL1UCkZ4M4Qfkysf0ayT5XIB5WafLWh20BIUOHFcXhKLmvX4znSPb05o0ug9Komy487bYtEzgJlQG/s1600/IMG_0772.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzIA_CJjEJ8PieDyxJOwlJtCSlQmXo7XKIHtvzBcCfiz9NQU4I8aORRKuSIWint2HbL1UCkZ4M4Qfkysf0ayT5XIB5WafLWh20BIUOHFcXhKLmvX4znSPb05o0ug9Komy487bYtEzgJlQG/s400/IMG_0772.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_EHheyuScTtPal2TSr2lfxTr9nZhDCyn5iM8mjbEui0Dt7VxlJCEGAsvhIMoCP16ZFI6VZ5-efVfVLL_JmCEfDASLh8mEw4C57KmzkVazIHC0BblszQMJIFhXTare4z_MuH7Tzv4b7OQ/s1600/IMG_0755.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_EHheyuScTtPal2TSr2lfxTr9nZhDCyn5iM8mjbEui0Dt7VxlJCEGAsvhIMoCP16ZFI6VZ5-efVfVLL_JmCEfDASLh8mEw4C57KmzkVazIHC0BblszQMJIFhXTare4z_MuH7Tzv4b7OQ/s400/IMG_0755.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_i3H1hBf8u90F7C-vxTZfbTQGIf_Z1mxAnSjS5YY645VK0TV3KGivzjUQbrKo4proztIx03k9qhqwnRis5EzsPAIuJVQzEIDrpe7hfG8BC5xDPlzjl7Tp2S8xRjYU30yTOw52T-70Iwn/s1600/IMG_0793.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_i3H1hBf8u90F7C-vxTZfbTQGIf_Z1mxAnSjS5YY645VK0TV3KGivzjUQbrKo4proztIx03k9qhqwnRis5EzsPAIuJVQzEIDrpe7hfG8BC5xDPlzjl7Tp2S8xRjYU30yTOw52T-70Iwn/s400/IMG_0793.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-l5sdO6O5hsYokUjcCvmEUhR6pBuGgmHISSh94k4F3zBx1wQo8C086s9OQmPL0vZKbsB-htk0QykS9NqWZjdJdOAZh__FD2pNEhPQBRRdAVwS7tcIQPXU2r4wrX0jz56aRNH4bpXfiDjR/s1600/IMG_0759.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-l5sdO6O5hsYokUjcCvmEUhR6pBuGgmHISSh94k4F3zBx1wQo8C086s9OQmPL0vZKbsB-htk0QykS9NqWZjdJdOAZh__FD2pNEhPQBRRdAVwS7tcIQPXU2r4wrX0jz56aRNH4bpXfiDjR/s400/IMG_0759.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Selah, as always, spotted a plane</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX9RsRlyKWl9esqqXSYjrwdWjXIu1UcFLXyb6Z7063bKwsKe6cmTFg7agPXc9q_ULB9f2JPhH7hJIPqs_ucpUyax3sqm4uvGWs_EdwuPEwfQlUyO-FZtWzyU2ijh_1TtNxeDMrWXyuHnWL/s1600/IMG_0797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX9RsRlyKWl9esqqXSYjrwdWjXIu1UcFLXyb6Z7063bKwsKe6cmTFg7agPXc9q_ULB9f2JPhH7hJIPqs_ucpUyax3sqm4uvGWs_EdwuPEwfQlUyO-FZtWzyU2ijh_1TtNxeDMrWXyuHnWL/s400/IMG_0797.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div>Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-27661100540371186602011-12-03T11:00:00.000-08:002011-12-03T14:09:40.346-08:00I'm Dreaming of a White (Trash) Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My own version of Bing Crosby's big tune hummed in my head until I couldn't help belting it out at full volume, "I'm... dreaming... of a white... *trash*... Christmas..." Mike informed me that after several hours of being in the cold, dutifully stringing up Christmas lights, no matter how many bulbs he replaced or times he fiddled with it, he could not get one section of lights to work. Therefore this year we boast a classic Trash Christmas, burnt out lights and all. I decided to give him a break and fed him dinner and let him go to bed early since he was headed back in to work the next day, amused all the while knowing that at least for a few more nights we'll be exhibiting a quality break in our house's Christmas lighting. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDhDEZgcUGonC-Gdzs4VPs8msb4EX60k5v-401ill3ife1XuQTW0bAlIlJEOTBCjf9bGSAiR4_QXNQDLijNqaKWjoa1Rs6gxDoVQSIPrYiR-NSbFqAvQh5fLB7tLpphOUTf6GcTmAhbgG/s1600/IMG_0591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6mKb18FZzGiBukBUBpfahPEK_D-Ln-CbQ1hjwO6G24fGJTqX_rP9B-WnJ7g3-ObZVYWGZGAwJBx8rC0EB6_Uwtswbdf-9TXDDpYdae_Eai2J_gmNBD5LUyehvfar6GoH91gO45w6xxBs/s1600/IMG_0720.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6mKb18FZzGiBukBUBpfahPEK_D-Ln-CbQ1hjwO6G24fGJTqX_rP9B-WnJ7g3-ObZVYWGZGAwJBx8rC0EB6_Uwtswbdf-9TXDDpYdae_Eai2J_gmNBD5LUyehvfar6GoH91gO45w6xxBs/s320/IMG_0720.jpg" width="213" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGwwBYRbb2YZ4ZwYLuV3deqxJB9FlU3I-Xg9KxOg8ZiaMZQ0SpPlTTt9fP6QgSemA2fF6gmm1vpDmT_ByVNlmbFpQZ53Y23VVcQ_d9uzlKEjwLpNsspkLMH9ATNEHIMgP43ZTVhjcB-etM/s1600/IMG_0721.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGwwBYRbb2YZ4ZwYLuV3deqxJB9FlU3I-Xg9KxOg8ZiaMZQ0SpPlTTt9fP6QgSemA2fF6gmm1vpDmT_ByVNlmbFpQZ53Y23VVcQ_d9uzlKEjwLpNsspkLMH9ATNEHIMgP43ZTVhjcB-etM/s320/IMG_0721.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDhDEZgcUGonC-Gdzs4VPs8msb4EX60k5v-401ill3ife1XuQTW0bAlIlJEOTBCjf9bGSAiR4_QXNQDLijNqaKWjoa1Rs6gxDoVQSIPrYiR-NSbFqAvQh5fLB7tLpphOUTf6GcTmAhbgG/s320/IMG_0591.jpg" width="320" /></div><br />
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This year, like many years past (except for the one when we scored a great tree for $5), we headed out to Hansen's Tree Farm just outside of town. Somehow we always end up having the whole place to ourselves to browse and this year was no different. The girls found two matching puddles right off the bat. Eileigh hopped in while Selah stopped at the edge and after a slight encouragement waded in. They had a blast splashing together until Mike and I decided to start the search for our tree. Eileigh ran off to join the search but Selah protested all the way out of the puddle and down the road and into the field and down the aisle, calling out her version of "Puddle!" endlessly. She was distracted only by a small plane flying overhead.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1PA7GAknOQBKbBS-TyothkDfPL1PpvML2Wel_TEDVyqD9qIhAhGE_IBeLSmB2f_UF73xrHj46DtnXpYVII2QVLQbk0VjU4Nkfz7bVHMu_aGj20WZrFKGyPxrzzEwOofjVBeU289GDat1/s1600/IMG_0608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1PA7GAknOQBKbBS-TyothkDfPL1PpvML2Wel_TEDVyqD9qIhAhGE_IBeLSmB2f_UF73xrHj46DtnXpYVII2QVLQbk0VjU4Nkfz7bVHMu_aGj20WZrFKGyPxrzzEwOofjVBeU289GDat1/s320/IMG_0608.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4bC-tx6lERTF85CT6vH-fWkKzX4CHKXRE9VP_J__ETmGgxNbOA7JwamxCODukU5lZZN9uv4uBKkHcRCzbDWrKTjzedVpVz3qpiPbXh0s_TNyY5sfkT1g3SyIzSe66xJTL1bbq2Sv-KrJ/s1600/IMG_0633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4bC-tx6lERTF85CT6vH-fWkKzX4CHKXRE9VP_J__ETmGgxNbOA7JwamxCODukU5lZZN9uv4uBKkHcRCzbDWrKTjzedVpVz3qpiPbXh0s_TNyY5sfkT1g3SyIzSe66xJTL1bbq2Sv-KrJ/s320/IMG_0633.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Not wanting to hold hands at first.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBHZJ7inMliG3NX-CP-VXrsr7Ag7vPgaoSOhoONlsJaKaMhiTMyjoMrvCoSMtgJByAH37U07syEaksPTDCwKvDGheWkeucq5qJ8EfBj4Qt6YrQ7_2sgRB5uzfyY00xAVUZiVGCS1DmBFW/s1600/IMG_0638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBHZJ7inMliG3NX-CP-VXrsr7Ag7vPgaoSOhoONlsJaKaMhiTMyjoMrvCoSMtgJByAH37U07syEaksPTDCwKvDGheWkeucq5qJ8EfBj4Qt6YrQ7_2sgRB5uzfyY00xAVUZiVGCS1DmBFW/s320/IMG_0638.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiog6iSRh2vxXnn2tRd7bMOi3WCG1tjQD0Tzzls0uBK9S4AvPZ2t0QxybaHKo7_IQsu_-vmXx0onX_LvdaSwtQkWfJWrx7hUcHsGITtf3Aq3vMewu6dRk4vOOSFwvJXou9_96UWYvQ756VW/s1600/IMG_0650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiog6iSRh2vxXnn2tRd7bMOi3WCG1tjQD0Tzzls0uBK9S4AvPZ2t0QxybaHKo7_IQsu_-vmXx0onX_LvdaSwtQkWfJWrx7hUcHsGITtf3Aq3vMewu6dRk4vOOSFwvJXou9_96UWYvQ756VW/s320/IMG_0650.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Watching the plane. Right after this we went to another spot with Selah trailing along behind. I had to return to get her when she kept crying and saying, "Eileigh! Puddle!" and pointing to a pile of dirt that Eileigh had walked through. She was standing with her toes right up against it and apparently had been magically frozen and unable to walk <i>around</i> the dirt.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1MzMGWrzUzoKlNOtbyjFMcENeV3DbGONA5ix6iWniRHj1VWlQCpfN3mixeEJFeJZf5jhKtrx-R81cd6wd8L7plAYH6m84kw-Faa-nVrLZUMnY6O1mkJ5Yjjf9_zdSDzuEwfk-sm3sIeA/s1600/IMG_0680.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1MzMGWrzUzoKlNOtbyjFMcENeV3DbGONA5ix6iWniRHj1VWlQCpfN3mixeEJFeJZf5jhKtrx-R81cd6wd8L7plAYH6m84kw-Faa-nVrLZUMnY6O1mkJ5Yjjf9_zdSDzuEwfk-sm3sIeA/s320/IMG_0680.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEn_VVaiN9fJlNfc53vasN0UoZsm9rwOBvPu44YLluCHjzkU1GeXP9uFaqHu1joYFwgQfCisnm4DEw17qaJ0NwWhrjlpGQ-_AXVbnSi7cmlC0rCxcMdgx5QYP_TvQBGnwri9NQGcnnQcpU/s1600/IMG_0691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEn_VVaiN9fJlNfc53vasN0UoZsm9rwOBvPu44YLluCHjzkU1GeXP9uFaqHu1joYFwgQfCisnm4DEw17qaJ0NwWhrjlpGQ-_AXVbnSi7cmlC0rCxcMdgx5QYP_TvQBGnwri9NQGcnnQcpU/s320/IMG_0691.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>We traipsed around for a time, marveling that the weather was the warmest it's ever been for tree shopping. Usually it's so cold it hurts our noses and I can't wait to get back to the truck. We've never had too much trouble agreeing on a tree (<span style="font-size: x-small;">because Mike goes with the one I want, perhaps?<span style="font-size: small;">) although this year we found ourselves desiring opposing ends of the tree-fatness scale. I kept wanting them to be wider, more full, fatter. Perfect tree? Nope. Must be fatter. We found one that was pretty good compromise-wise although admittedly a little more post-Thanksgiving meal than emaciated. Makes for good ornament holding. </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA6kMduSXUS6Os1vTyuk0e4zzZbN23eP9avVo2dl4SfLC1jlBTaQMMchk-tCDvtTcBgI2L-6Kdz-HMmI7nNgrXs9ntGDQpD36mcqC4B7DGhBW2ZleeOgixP2-bHTv-Ouzo_crXBqEHwqHp/s1600/IMG_0709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA6kMduSXUS6Os1vTyuk0e4zzZbN23eP9avVo2dl4SfLC1jlBTaQMMchk-tCDvtTcBgI2L-6Kdz-HMmI7nNgrXs9ntGDQpD36mcqC4B7DGhBW2ZleeOgixP2-bHTv-Ouzo_crXBqEHwqHp/s320/IMG_0709.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">We three girls incessantly hollered out "Timber!!!" while Mike made short work of cutting down our tree and then we headed back to the truck. Eileigh ran back to the puddle for one more quick dip before we were off to the farm store. By then it was lunch time (which was reheating in the oven back at home) and the girls were hungry but of course had eaten all the snack on the way to the tree farm and I now had nothing left to pass back for them to munch on. So I encouraged that if they were lucky then maybe I could pick up a treat at the farm store for them. Eileigh responded, "I'm going to be lucky, Mom." She knows. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">We munched <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Late-July-Organic-Chocolate-Sandwich/dp/B000VMBE6Q" target="_blank">Late July Organic Vanilla Bean with Green Tea Chocolate Sandwiches</a> which are ridiculously delicious and taste way better than Oreos and go perfectly with any need for snacking post-Christmas tree harvest. The ride home was quiet to say the least. So after arriving home, eating lunch and "naps" (quotes because Eileigh generally spends the time playing, talking and singing made-up songs at what is close to the top of her lungs) we were able to decorate the tree. Normally we'd try to get the wildlife out of it before bringing it into the house but since it was going to freeze the next day we didn't want to spray it out with water, didn't have a blower and figured that just leaving it outside wouldn't be any kind of encouragement for spiders to vacate. So we just set it up and got to work. The girls enjoyed hanging the red and gold glass balls and I made a mental note to go with not-quite-so-breakable ornaments for next year. Eileigh had the honors of topping the tree this year and I think we'll leave it exactly the way it is because every time I see the slightly crooked star it makes me smile.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0wjQrTkoqz1PocwE7H-byiq6KbkelYfEDtFMeYgXfvVTFhUH2o7PByoq0y_6QRcCTKoAZY-1LNeaN4PcjQZSLGHpx_rFGH8V-pH0BOV1aj2o19O7-rx8Ue9ukbuDqqXl3S5QLW1UU8Ec/s320/IMG_0725.jpg" width="213" /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This summer I scored a Nativity set at a garage sale. Always wanted a Nativity set, never had one. This one has a baby Jesus that's removable from the manger so if we wanted to we could have the manger empty until Christmas day and then place baby Jesus there in the manger that morning. I can't bring myself to pack Him up for the rest of the season and so He remains at the center of the scene- right where He is supposed to be. Jesus. He's the Reason for it all. May we be ever mindful of that every day, especially as we celebrate His birth.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rIb1QlFbXcemUL_xe94QO5b3I205udWtCf0BCdWk-_4lAcHrXRbpPSHyj75wvC5swLRjNFO7tu8wuyBkxPmNsuTmlWiHTdQ07c40NAJT5vo-a0MyFekTSQGS3EnsjQn3cKOnAz21xmmP/s1600/IMG_0732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rIb1QlFbXcemUL_xe94QO5b3I205udWtCf0BCdWk-_4lAcHrXRbpPSHyj75wvC5swLRjNFO7tu8wuyBkxPmNsuTmlWiHTdQ07c40NAJT5vo-a0MyFekTSQGS3EnsjQn3cKOnAz21xmmP/s320/IMG_0732.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-75286644671906634622011-12-01T20:22:00.000-08:002011-12-01T20:22:25.894-08:0022 Month Comparison<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz-pKnuLHlDFbXt3LPsd99cRZ1nl02j6dtfSUfPUnKVmT10_E7YWvOjaxSgKIOZq0lBOa46HxGbepEPQI-tfZfSpLkT7yqzFHmAarTfTQNpR40YrlEUCYgK07CqDSN-2umZJZkzqTSAABq/s1600/IMG_0463.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz-pKnuLHlDFbXt3LPsd99cRZ1nl02j6dtfSUfPUnKVmT10_E7YWvOjaxSgKIOZq0lBOa46HxGbepEPQI-tfZfSpLkT7yqzFHmAarTfTQNpR40YrlEUCYgK07CqDSN-2umZJZkzqTSAABq/s400/IMG_0463.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Selah, one crisp November afternoon 2011</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8zM4c-QvGkCmnzBnUprdIhGi_Vuklv14r14xf8V7SbBYZOdcKFViU8-B-XIo0gWv5EVkkkHN-QX75NMDAMXHGTb6MajHtAIF7aMYcAA1d8YxU0c603982DFEgf0yOIplh3LYynSLQ1mW/s1600/IMG_0709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8zM4c-QvGkCmnzBnUprdIhGi_Vuklv14r14xf8V7SbBYZOdcKFViU8-B-XIo0gWv5EVkkkHN-QX75NMDAMXHGTb6MajHtAIF7aMYcAA1d8YxU0c603982DFEgf0yOIplh3LYynSLQ1mW/s400/IMG_0709.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Eileigh, one crisp November afternoon, 2009 </div><div style="text-align: center;">(I'm amazed at how much this girl looks like herself!) :)</div>Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-15354835061497542912011-11-23T12:00:00.000-08:002011-11-23T12:00:42.790-08:00Wordless Wednesday: A Little Light Reading<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju1xjkHNF9TEFe0mhdsBjy1m8doCtR3LIKpKVjDNDPSJH68CJVyyvOpmQGYeYP6VmVzq6V1C5YpdmZ0DcY8tnRVrvGi_PeK81ZfUHXgPqfGrA9VVOwbGaMXjs-88JvQ5jDnDx9SXwQgCld/s1600/IMG_0347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju1xjkHNF9TEFe0mhdsBjy1m8doCtR3LIKpKVjDNDPSJH68CJVyyvOpmQGYeYP6VmVzq6V1C5YpdmZ0DcY8tnRVrvGi_PeK81ZfUHXgPqfGrA9VVOwbGaMXjs-88JvQ5jDnDx9SXwQgCld/s640/IMG_0347.jpg" width="414" /></a></div>Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-89101730680901144582011-11-22T09:22:00.000-08:002011-11-22T09:22:47.920-08:00Coconut SprinklesReady for one of the easiest, most phenomenal recipes? Throw these into some granola or just straight into your mouth, use as topping on pureed butternut or acorn squash or spice up your morning oatmeal. These are divine on EVERYTHING. Maybe even steak. Maybe even in a tuna sandwich. Maybe not. But you could serve them up as dessert after that steak... we like them sprinkled on top of freshly whipped cream.<br />
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<b><u>Coconut Sprinkles </u></b><br />
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2 c. unsweetened shredded coconut<br />
1/2 c. maple syrup (use the real stuff here- yes, I know it's more expensive than flavored corn syrup)<br />
1 tsp. vanilla<br />
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Preheat oven to 200 degrees. Combine ingredients until coconut is coated. Spread on baking sheet lined with parchment paper and bake 2-3 hours until dry and crisp. Break up into small pieces with your hands and store at room temperature in airtight container. Serve with pretty much everything.Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-29163473309991445752011-11-21T10:56:00.000-08:002011-11-21T10:56:10.427-08:00Strrrrretch!!I'm trying to exercise my blogging muscles and finding them shriveled indeed. Therefore, I am committed to minimalizing creativity and instead focusing on simply getting something- anything- on the page on a more consistent basis. Use caution, this may get painful at some point.<br />
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Eileigh has been fairly close to begging recently in her requests to have her nails painted. I've never been one to paint my nails regularly (mostly from an unable-to-stay-within-the-lines affliction) and then once I realized that nail polish is possibly one of the most toxic ingredients to apply to our bodies I've pretty much vetoed it since. But I still love the pretties. Eileigh loves the pretties. (Selah does too but I'll tell you her actual response here in a second.) <br />
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When we were doing <a href="http://www.gaps.me/preview/" target="_blank">GAPS</a> I had signed up for an online cooking class that has been a wealth of information. Seriously great resource. The session on detox went over a wide range of personal care products, including nail polish. In short, it's best to avoid most, if not all nail polishes due to the toxicity in the ingredients. There are a few brands that are safe although no nail polish is completely non-toxic. Suncoat kid's nail polish is the least toxic of all the brands. So over to their website did I go. You can check out the kid's nail polish <a href="http://www.suncoatgirl.com/" target="_blank">here</a> or their regular non-toxic line <a href="http://www.suncoatproducts.com/index-polish.htm" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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Eileigh sat on my lap and we shopped together online. I asked her if she wanted pink or purple or red. She chose blue. Mermaid Blue! I went with Berry from their regular line and then picked up some of their mascara to try since I'm almost out. Kind of fun reading about what is NOT in their ingredients. Plastic, anyone? I digress. So night before last I slapped three coats of Berry down onto my newly shorn fingernails. I couldn't believe how fast it dried- obviously because it's water-based but by the time I was done painting one hand it was dry enough to switch to the other hand and not worry about smearing it everywhere. Not that a professional such as myself would have that problem. Ahem. <br />
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I promised I would paint Eileigh's fingers after her nap and she dutifully went to sleep, a rarity nowadays. Selah woke up before Eileigh and let me paint her left big toe Mermaid Blue before deciding she was quite unhappy about it. She went over and sat on Daddy's lap to read books, double-checking her toe every now and then to make sure she still had something to protest about.<br />
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Eileigh woke up excitedly a little after that and held remarkably still for two coats on her fingers and toes. Once again, I marveled at how fast it dried and Eileigh appreciated being able to go show Daddy and Selah her pretty fingers and toes once they were done. The Mermaid Blue actually ended up being a somewhat metallic shimmery blue and green. Certainly cute on kids- and adults of that persuasion, too. Personally I'm more of a "basic" kinda gal but can appreciate it on others. :)<br />
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So far the polish on the nails is lasting quite well- all except for Eileigh's big right toe, which got picked clean off while she was watching <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K51rux-jhW8&feature=related" target="_blank">Raffi in Concert </a>before bathtime last night. After a few threats of leaving it unpainted we're scheduled for a repaint this afternoon. Maybe I'll even take a swipe at a second Selah toe.Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-6541921294322620732011-09-25T21:28:00.000-07:002011-09-25T21:28:53.479-07:00Morning Snuggles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYnj7gpIipnkjJ_X-K_bNE6-u9ejIPD07-rM5gwG8JSRJkZ0pJ1Err-8s-kJSz5mo-Kpg_ofV_exXFGx2EVp_2m1eMrT2lzpWrRogvnyL9SMX15C0Ik1N2rPw7wp3gdinnTXUuCmCWH1zB/s1600/IMG_0220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYnj7gpIipnkjJ_X-K_bNE6-u9ejIPD07-rM5gwG8JSRJkZ0pJ1Err-8s-kJSz5mo-Kpg_ofV_exXFGx2EVp_2m1eMrT2lzpWrRogvnyL9SMX15C0Ik1N2rPw7wp3gdinnTXUuCmCWH1zB/s400/IMG_0220.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Eileigh's almost always up for a sister snuggle- Selah on the other hand prefers it on her own terms.</div><div style="text-align: center;">This morning she flopped down on top of Eileigh willingly and contentedly let Eileigh "pet" her back while I ran for the camera. Can't think of a better way to start the morning.</div>Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-84569548349430133072011-08-17T20:25:00.000-07:002011-08-17T20:25:39.422-07:00Hair Branches<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjka8s23l-mMgDVPyT56Z7e8DlO8-qkLgbvYpvKcArMuDSP7qiaQgqgyegeKAWUpkWClakmHwMcWjGDmm66h4py4BeeuOpwquzvQY1S3860Eb6LyndTkAIZuWmjJKgUYuzAiMVhEfQvD0pa/s1600/IMG_9636.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjka8s23l-mMgDVPyT56Z7e8DlO8-qkLgbvYpvKcArMuDSP7qiaQgqgyegeKAWUpkWClakmHwMcWjGDmm66h4py4BeeuOpwquzvQY1S3860Eb6LyndTkAIZuWmjJKgUYuzAiMVhEfQvD0pa/s400/IMG_9636.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">"Mom, my hair branches are kinda freakin' me out." </div><div style="text-align: center;">I love this kid.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-2505310046801385872011-08-10T06:30:00.000-07:002011-08-10T06:30:05.440-07:00Wordless Wednesday: Selah's First Piggies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pX2qbKJ1iLddA6vpk0DZwF5Fs9c6-q-48Zoehn-sfNdEyOR_4xuRCY45bjrPYEl6WRBYYmtUfdfk28P1MHmCFMruVrVtSY7fNr0lbn1jPKG289h1d5i_Xl93jakrosKIOWCIN5Bo2Fkz/s1600/IMG_9301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pX2qbKJ1iLddA6vpk0DZwF5Fs9c6-q-48Zoehn-sfNdEyOR_4xuRCY45bjrPYEl6WRBYYmtUfdfk28P1MHmCFMruVrVtSY7fNr0lbn1jPKG289h1d5i_Xl93jakrosKIOWCIN5Bo2Fkz/s640/IMG_9301.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-70261320294356452502011-08-08T14:35:00.000-07:002011-08-08T14:35:08.560-07:00Have Mercy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3wPL9G9jANbjiygB-6MPQkC_dS3egcEFbha4Fmg_6zDu4EIAS4fs9ILlP70ozSyNP7807QRfQ7VZXjO54p-Dcb9rHTn_0ka1siTC8WDZjTlTJctB4pABOISd7MAKBc5_e9bqyRxaWy7F-/s1600/IMG_8825.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3wPL9G9jANbjiygB-6MPQkC_dS3egcEFbha4Fmg_6zDu4EIAS4fs9ILlP70ozSyNP7807QRfQ7VZXjO54p-Dcb9rHTn_0ka1siTC8WDZjTlTJctB4pABOISd7MAKBc5_e9bqyRxaWy7F-/s400/IMG_8825.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>About a month or two ago I decided to flex my creativity muscle (it's a small one that doesn't get out much) and wanted to figure out a good solution for Eileigh's piggy bank. Up to this point she had gleefully been dropping all of our spare change into an adorable piggy bank from Great-Grandma Mary. Problem was, it was almost full. Sure, we could deposit the money into the college savings fund and start over again but I've realized that Eileigh is ready for a little more training in money-handling. And I'm not just referring to not putting pennies in her mouth or washing her hands after touching any amount of loose change. More along the lines of Giving, Saving and Spending. I remember from somewhere that the best banks for kids are ones that they can see through and literally watch their money grow (or disappear). I had two more requirements: I did not want to spend money to buy something for this purpose and I wanted it to not be hideously ugly. This third requirement meant I could not use various plastic jars with lids I scrounged up around the house. Enter: the Mason jar. An all-purpose item that lends itself to simplicity and beauty all in one. So, in keeping with the plan, I scrounged up three pint-sized jars from my stash. I also grabbed lids and three different colored rings. Since I didn't want Eileigh to have to unscrew the lid and ring every time (and because it's way more fun to actually drop the coins through the slot) I had to figure out how to get a coin-sized slot into the lid of the jar. My first thought was to wait until Mike got home. My second thought was, nah, let's see what I can rustle up for tools to do the job. Fortuitously, Mike had just received some passed-on tools that were still sitting out and a small chisel caught my eye. At least I think that's what it was... beveled on one side... tap on the top of the handle with a hammer. That's how I used it anyway. It was the perfect size to make the perfect quarter-sized space in the lid. (I put the lid on the jar securely with the ring and then two quick taps made for the ideal slot). Only one side of the newly-minted hole was sharp and even though I figured there was minimal risk I carefully applied a small amount of high-class duct tape to the sharp edge to protect little fingers. My creativity muscle was exhausted by then so I just Sharpie'd the tops with Give, Save and Spend. Eileigh and I went upstairs and I explained what each jar was for. She then joyfully started to redistribute the wealth of her piggy bank amongst the three jars, calling out in a sing-song voice, "Some to give for others, some to save for later, and money for Eileigh to buy." So far she's loaded up her little pink purse twice and hit up the Dollar Tree for a jump rope and Walmart for some stick-on earrings. Today, in keeping with the theme of Mercy (see my prior blog post on praying for our kids <a href="http://littlehomeinthecity.blogspot.com/2011/08/31-biblical-virtues-to-pray-for-your.html">here</a>) I decided to do something a little different in regards to giving. We've been talking a lot about giving to other people who don't have money or food or clothing. <a href="http://www.samaritanspurse.org/index.php/Who_We_Are/About_Us">Samaritan's Purse</a> is an incredible organization and they have a <a href="https://www.samaritanspurse.org/index.php/Giving/gift_catalog/#">Gift Catalog</a> that you can browse and choose different areas to give. This morning as I read through some of the different options, Eileigh sat on my lap and was able to see pictures of babies and children that are blessed and helped by the ministry. She was quite excited as she chose to help feed a hungry baby and nursing mom for a week, some baby chicks for a family, and a couple weeks' worth of milk and hot meals for children. She unzipped her purse and started to get her money out as I tried to explain the whole 'nother realm of debit cards... and decided to save that for another day. She seemed content to just hold my debit card while I clicked away. Gotta start 'em young, right? Have mercy!! :) Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-41371947723760096082011-08-06T11:41:00.000-07:002011-08-06T11:41:36.694-07:00The Shiner<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHWoKWuDU_75iUaeo9SLY34TxMqmVvrXssVF3sNEorEK9wirQlOESNUnCYshUx5gKYErr8ptPDZxRlh4PODp4nAa0js_6GwzLb6gyo4I3aL5jnxwnY2vP6KzWPzaREczxb0dJ6Fu6ljN8T/s1600/IMG_9585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHWoKWuDU_75iUaeo9SLY34TxMqmVvrXssVF3sNEorEK9wirQlOESNUnCYshUx5gKYErr8ptPDZxRlh4PODp4nAa0js_6GwzLb6gyo4I3aL5jnxwnY2vP6KzWPzaREczxb0dJ6Fu6ljN8T/s400/IMG_9585.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Eileigh received her first shiner. She's enjoyed watching it go from black and blue to purple and green and yellow. It's actually a great educational tool. However I think I'm going to stick with the no-standing-on-the-couch rule. She was standing on our patio furniture outside and somehow fell off and landed on the table on her way down. She's kind of been a collection of bumps and bruises lately. Last night she went to lick a strawberry popsicle that was so cold (as in dry ice cold) that her tongue literally stuck to it. I looked down and she was freaking out and couldn't pull it off. Sure I could've grabbed the water bottle in my diaper bag to loosen the popsicle's grip on her tongue but with my quick (dare I say cat-like) Mom-reflex I bent down and literally licked her tongue off the popsicle. Well, most of it- she/we pulled at the end a little too soon and part of her tongue was left remaining on the popsicle. Needless to say that got dumped in the trash and she happily munched Daddy's strawberry ice cream bar instead. Who would've thought a strawberry fruit bar could be so dangerous? But just to reassure you, Eileigh is really okay and not even the shiner or minimal tongue loss is enough to keep her from standing on the furniture or away from icy treats. :)Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-40860071433242287772011-08-04T10:51:00.000-07:002011-08-04T10:51:01.860-07:00Thursday's Wordless Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikqVWmangjlYLG4GZVGhdMb3XxBsrowRr7_v5cgiVuSLkXuYSDPiLtU3d6C-w_ZvCNZ7BQbcBwxQZ3-TuJG69DFOfzpscQzTcYd9fa4wo-e_F9qPAFia5U0W2cDCtiD5MbR3bKnqQEIGRf/s1600/IMG_8551_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikqVWmangjlYLG4GZVGhdMb3XxBsrowRr7_v5cgiVuSLkXuYSDPiLtU3d6C-w_ZvCNZ7BQbcBwxQZ3-TuJG69DFOfzpscQzTcYd9fa4wo-e_F9qPAFia5U0W2cDCtiD5MbR3bKnqQEIGRf/s640/IMG_8551_2.jpg" width="376" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWlZVj9WWJrGD-bN1jh0EHop6rnrq5H7hpi2E61GjVT68SpLQaYKinzgTZojKVD0vvAs4nODCw5k-Tjvv1QgsyLVgPaT2Kem148Fs81t214tSFrxinw_GcLN2_egl1p-EWuPFZ6RgVG-UO/s1600/IMG_8552.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWlZVj9WWJrGD-bN1jh0EHop6rnrq5H7hpi2E61GjVT68SpLQaYKinzgTZojKVD0vvAs4nODCw5k-Tjvv1QgsyLVgPaT2Kem148Fs81t214tSFrxinw_GcLN2_egl1p-EWuPFZ6RgVG-UO/s640/IMG_8552.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiks1Pv71pH4Wx8x4fw_MWLtQWE1ygAkqBvfdxGJiARyB_wpGnv2yw8GdkexnxN1dDuygcnZqmx_rwYNT9ZBBYV4Qpejk5GexwTEdA4j7KKpmgWVDF7xqTU4MzvYU1N9mHmsQy8IwBNvLEQ/s1600/IMG_8560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiks1Pv71pH4Wx8x4fw_MWLtQWE1ygAkqBvfdxGJiARyB_wpGnv2yw8GdkexnxN1dDuygcnZqmx_rwYNT9ZBBYV4Qpejk5GexwTEdA4j7KKpmgWVDF7xqTU4MzvYU1N9mHmsQy8IwBNvLEQ/s640/IMG_8560.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-18955461325825314492011-08-03T22:46:00.000-07:002011-08-03T22:46:29.382-07:0031 Biblical Virtues to Pray for Your ChildrenToday I decided to challenge Mike's assertion that his Love Language is a clean house and therefore focused most of my day's efforts on wading through the Pit, aka the office. If he's correct on the Love Language then I will be loved for life and if he's incorrect then we will enjoy having an office with actual surfaces (As in ones you can see. Not covered by all manner of items.) Going through the very, <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>ahem,</i></span> small <i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">*cough*</span></i> stack<span style="font-size: x-small;">(s) <span style="font-size: small;">of papers I was pleased to find several months worth of "inserts". </span></span>We receive little inserts with our giving receipts from one of the ministries we support and I'm always amazed at how relevant and insightful they are. They're super short but always leave me with something to mull over. The one that caught my eye was titled Parents' Prayer Program. In it author Bob Hostetler shares his desire to pray more intentionally and effectively for his children. He wanted to get beyond repetitive "God bless the kids" type of prayer and developed this Parents' Prayer Program. Each day of the month, in addition to prayers for his children's safety and concerns of that day, Bob prays for a specific character trait, virtue or fruit of the Spirit to be planted and nurtured in his children. The following list is a guideline that you can adapt for use with your own children, grandchildren, kids in the neighborhood or missionary kids around the world. I'm going to be praying these for myself as well!! :)<br />
<br />
Pray specifically for the children on your heart- that they experience and evidence:<br />
<br />
1. Salvation (Isaiah 45:8, 2 Timothy 2:10)<br />
2. Growth in grace (2 Peter 3:18)<br />
3. Love (Ephesians 5:2, Galatians 5:22)<br />
4. Honesty and integrity (Psalm 25:21)<br />
5. Self-control (1 Thessalonians 5:6)<br />
6. A love for God's Word (Psalm 19:10)<br />
7. Justice (Psalm 11:7, Micah 6:8)<br />
8. Mercy (Luke 6:36)<br />
9. Respect (for self, others, authority) (Luke 6:36)<br />
10. Strong, Biblical self-esteem (Ephesians 2:10)<br />
11. Faithfulness (Proverbs 3:3)<br />
12. Courage (Deuteronomy 31:6)<br />
13. Purity (Psalm 51:10)<br />
14. Kindness (1 Thessalonians 5:15)<br />
15. Generosity (1 Timothy 6:18-19)<br />
16. Peace (Romans 14:19)<br />
17. Joy (1 Thessalonians 1:16)<br />
18. Perseverance (Hebrews 12:1)<br />
19. Humility (Titus 3:2)<br />
20. Compassion (Colossians 3:12)<br />
21. Responsibility (Galatians 6:5)<br />
22. Contentment (Philippians 4:12-13)<br />
23. Faith (Luke 17:5-6, Hebrews 11:1-40)<br />
24. A servant's heart (Ephesians 6:7)<br />
25. Hope (Romans 15:13)<br />
26. The willingness and ability to work hard (Colossians 3:23)<br />
27. A passion for God (Psalm 63:8)<br />
28. Self-discipline (Proverbs 1:3)<br />
29. Prayerfulness (Ephesians 6:18)<br />
30. Gratitude (Colossians 2:7, Ephesians 5:20)<br />
31. A heart for missions (Psalm 96:3)Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-59497411499051911352011-07-28T22:10:00.000-07:002011-07-28T22:10:37.544-07:00Sisterly Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ0gvSNmjnA0lq2ZQWNLPuwhasH029IT615xZEncbjxSR85kWeI-K8EcCHQpeu1-LppTAfu2KUYSuJMSIzMfw6lyg3svnhgsQKPIEOt1eKsHF34AZBT9YEmjqRAkNDZmmTqWHwUgYIJJp8/s1600/IMG_8976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ0gvSNmjnA0lq2ZQWNLPuwhasH029IT615xZEncbjxSR85kWeI-K8EcCHQpeu1-LppTAfu2KUYSuJMSIzMfw6lyg3svnhgsQKPIEOt1eKsHF34AZBT9YEmjqRAkNDZmmTqWHwUgYIJJp8/s400/IMG_8976.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Jenaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06183289743451360906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3842953065963906002.post-79051788507328936142011-07-27T07:35:00.000-07:002011-07-27T07:35:48.342-07:00Wordless Wednesday: The Evil Eye<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9LAGBSLnIX8myIQSrDW_4XqZ4EEEDkG_9kpSJZ_w-DxKq5HOB9opaU0bEzExd0tXzUq96aBJyCo6D9OhuCX5VGnlHYCpl2xY2j8IJr3Mb4IJcALYM5jEyfCPJk-Re-E0nY5eedEhK6DU3/s1600/IMG_9249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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