Frankly, I'd Rather Be Eating

One of my favorite commercials on T.V. right now shows a mom in a doctor's office, flipping through her planner. She keeps flipping pages, looking for a date to fit something in. Finally, in desperation, she shrugs her shoulders and says, "Nope. Nope. I just don't have time for the flu."

That's how I feel right now.

I had my week all planned out. I had stuff to do. People to see. Places to go.

But the flu had other plans for me.

So, instead of enjoying some of the most beautiful weather we've had in a LONG time, I've been enjoying the softness of my sheets and barely even noticing the sunshine. Sort of.

In my flu-induced fog, I've had a lot of time to flip channels and surf the internet. And over the past couple of days I've learned some interesting stuff that I thought I'd pass along to you. I mean, just in case you weren't in bed all week flipping and surfing.

1. "Outrage" is the word of the day. Democrats are outraged. Republicans are outraged. The president is outraged. Americans everywhere are outraged. Geesh, you'd think we were a country of complainers or something.

2. Bankers are still being demonized all over the place. How has an honorable profession been suddenly turned into something nearly as evil as prostitution? It boggles the mind.

3. We live in a world of anachronisms. MRI. AIG. NCAA. TARP (does anyone besides my husband know what that stands for?). Good grief!

4. I really want to see Julia Roberts new movie, "Duplicity." I saw a preview for it a few weeks ago when I saw another movie (which I can't even remember now), and I thought it looked good.

5. One movie I do NOT want to see is "The Haunting in Connecticut." At the same movie I can't remember where I saw the "Duplicity" preview, they showed a preview for this, and I couldn't even take it. I almost had to leave--it was SO scary! Who needs that? Not me, that's for sure. I'd rather stick pins in my eyeballs.

6. I'm not good at returning phone calls. And I'm especially bad at it when I'm sick. I need to work on that.

7. The Osbournes are back. Be afraid, people. Be very afraid.

8. One of my bloggy friends, Michelle, just got home from a wonderful trip to Sedona. I enjoyed looking at her pictures and thought you might too.

9. I spent a good portion of my time digging up potential scholarship money . . . just planning a year ahead here. The very best (in the humorous sense) scholarship I found was one that's giving $500 to TALL people! Now, my Kate is 6' 1", and she's never found it to be a great advantage (other than, of course, it's better than being short). But finally, it seems that being tall could finally pay off. Woot woot!

10. The nemesis of my older two children and the happy place of most parents I know is an internet invention called "Edline." Basically, it's a website where teachers update students' grades and parents can check--daily if they're like that--to see how their student is doing. While Edline can be a great thing, it can also be a nasty thing from which I need to pull myself away occasionally. Enough said.

So, there you go. Just a smattering of random things I've learned while lying in bed this week.

Frankly, I'm tired of all this learning. I'm ready to get out of bed and start living again. Hopefully tomorrow.

Life, Interrupted

Anybody getting sick of looking at ham and cheese loaf yet? I know I am!

Just in case anybody's wondering where I've been these past couple of days, the answer would be "in bed." While minding my own business yesterday morning I started feeling a little sickish. Nothing too terrible, but something that could have hampered a lunch with a friend that I had been looking forward to.

Thankfully, I made it through lunch (I absolutely love being with this friend and come away encouraged every time I'm with her, so I was desperate to make it through). Barely.

I came home, did a couple more things around the house and headed straight to bed. B called in the middle of the afternoon, heard the weakness and sorrow in my voice, and came home early to help with the after-school stuff. Bless him.

I think I slept from about 2:00 yesterday afternoon until this morning. With a few interruptions.

Not that I want to ruin your morning coffee or anything, but let's just say I lost 5 pounds in the past 24 hours. Yep, it's been bad.

And you want to know the worst part of all? It's going to be 70 today. The nicest day we've had around here in 6 months! I had such big plans for the day. I was going to clean my screen porch, get all the furniture out, and actually enjoy sitting out there.

Now, if I'm lucky, I might drag a chair out there and sit for a few minutes before heading back to bed.

Which is where I'm going now.

An Oldie, but a Goodie

When B and I were newlyweds, some . . . oh . . . 24 years ago, I used to scour magazines looking for something new to make for dinner. Very few of those magazine recipes ever made it into my repitoire. Because, you know, I just don't keep a jar of roasted red peppers on my pantry shelf.

Or capers. Who really cooks with capers? Yuck.

But one recipe I found (I still remember that I found it in Better Homes and Gardens in an advertisement for dijon mustard of all things!) has become a family favorite. You know how, when you just can't think of what to make for dinner and you ask your family, they say all the things that you don't feel like making? Every time I ask my family, "What do you want to eat next week?" they all say, "Ham and Cheese loaf!"

(Oh, except for Abby who is my Contrary Mary who asks for spaghetti.)

So last week, when I asked Maggie all those questions about me, she thought my favorite food was Ham and Cheese loaf for a very good reason--I make it a lot. Because I love my family and I want to feed them nutritious foods that they just love every night of the week. I'm nice that way.

It's not that I don't like making this dish--I just have to be in the right mood to deal with the mixer and the yeast and all that. It's not hard to make. Just takes the right frame of mind. And a couple glasses of wine, maybe. I'm just sayin'. . .

So, for my sister, Jodi, who mocked my Ham and Cheese loaf in her comment last week, here is the recipe.

(I promise, this isn't turning into a recipe blog. I just happened to make a couple of things I wanted to share. I'll keep the blog as random as it always is--just to keep you on your toes.)

Ham and Cheese Loaf (a.k.a. "Dijon Ham and Swiss" by the makers of dijon mustard who gave me the recipe)

4 Cups flour
2 Tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 packages rapid rise yeast
1 Cup water
1/4 Cup dijon mustard
2 Tablespoons butter
1 1/2 Cups chopped cooked ham
1 Cup shredded Swiss cheese
1 egg, beaten

Set aside 1 C. four. Mix remaining flour, sugar, salt, and yeast. Heat water, mustard and margarine to 125 to 130 degrees; stir into flour mixture. Mix in enough reserved flour to make a soft dough. Knead 4 minutes.

On a greased baking sheet, roll dough to a 14" x 12" rectangle.

[Note: I used coarse grain mustard last night because it's what I had. It was yummy! But that's why it looks grainy.]

Sprinkle ham and cheese down the center 1/3 of dough.


Make cuts from filling to dough edges a 1" intervals along sides of filling. Bring strips from opposite sides of filling together. Twist and place ends at an angle across filling.


Cover with towel and let rise by placing pan on top of a large, shallow pan half filled with boiling water. Let rise 15 minutes.

Brush with egg wash and bake at 375 for 25 minutes.


Isn't she beautiful??

Just give me a minute to complain . . .

Last night. 8 p.m. 60 degrees.

This morning. 6 a.m. 17 degrees.

I feel like I'm living in Narnia under the rule of the White Witch where it was said to be "Always winter, never Christmas" except this time it's "Always winter, never spring."

Ugh.

[Addendum to this post: This afternoon I decided to fight those winter blues by taking Thunder the Wonder Dog for a nice long walk. Even though it was cold, it was still sunny, so I thought, 'Why not?' As we were coming back home, there in my front yard was the most amazing sight: A ROBIN!!! Where is the camera when you need it?!]

Travel Tuesday - Buttercup Cake Shop

The day that Kate and I were to leave London was it. THE DAY. We had been looking forward to this day for our entire six-day stay in London.

We had walked past it . . . several times. We had waited. We had anticipated.

But the timing was never right.

Finally, we knew we had to do it. We were out of time.

And so, on that last day in London, just before checking out of our hotel, we stepped into the Buttercup Cake Shop. It was the shop of our dreams, literally, because we had been dreaming about it long before we left the States. We had found this shop online and, to our great delight, it was not far from our hotel--in the very neighborhood we were staying! What luck!

Isn't it just the cutest little shop you've ever seen?


We took a picture of the package because we just knew we'd never see anything that adorable back home.


After about 10 minutes time, all four of our cupcakes were gone. Devoured. But delighted over completely.


If you're ever in Kensington, you absolutely must stop by the Buttercup Cake Shop. You won't regret it.

They have a website, but I doubt they'd deliver to Chicago. Not that I've asked or anything.

And here's a fun travel story to go with our ultimate cupcake experience. The young man who waited on us in the shop had an American accent, so we asked him where he was from. He said Chicago--turns out he was a Northwestern student working in London on a six month student work visa.

So that was fun.

But sitting in the corner of the shop was a young couple who overheard our conversation--the only other people in the store. They started laughing when they heard that we were all from Chicago because they were from Chicago too! Oak Park, I think they said.

So for one small moment in one small cupcake shop in one small neighborhood of London, five people from Chicago came together.

It was surreal.

And sweet.

Blame it on Daylight Savings Time

I woke up this morning feeling guilty because what actually woke me up was the sound of the back screen door slamming. Which meant that Kate and Abby were on their way to school.

Normally I get up about 30 minutes before they leave so I can at least touch base with them, find out how they're doing and what's going on for them that day, but this morning, thanks to Daylight Savings Time, I was disoriented. It was dark. And cold. And I was still fighting whatever bug is going around our house.

So, as I heard the car start and listened to the girls head out, I did what I often do before getting up. I prayed.

I started through my laundry list of things to pray for . . . my kids, my husband, the day ahead. And then I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as I thought about our crumbling economy and the problems facing our nation that seem just too big to even be imagined.

And just as suddenly this thought came to me. Rather than praying for our financial situaion, and for things to be "alright" in our world, what if I prayed "Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done"? What if everyone started praying that prayer?

So that's how I started my day today and the funny thing is, I kept thinking about it throughout my busy morning. It helped me realize that I can't control my finances, I can't ultimately control my children, I can't control my circumstances. I can, however, change my perspective.

So I'm wondering, how would it change our perspective if we just prayed that simple prayer each day? "Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done."

What if we all believed that that was enough?

Just thought I'd share . . .

When boredom gets the best of me

Oh, alright, since Maggie and I were stuck at home last night watching the most exciting basketball game in my alma mater's history on T.V., I decided to do another "meme" with her. I saw this last week on Michelle's blog and thought it was so cute. Of course, her daughters are quite a bit younger than my youngest, but I thought it would be interesting to try it with older kids.

So anyway, here's the deal with this one. I asked the questions; Maggie gave the answers. Hope you enjoy it.

1. What is something mom always says to you?
M: Wash your hands.

2. What makes mom happy?
M: Food

3. What makes mom sad?
M: Politics

4. How does your mom make you laugh?
M: When she acts funny.

5. What did your mom like to do when she was a child?
M: Read.

6. How old is your mom?
M: 45

7. How tall is your mom?
M: 5'9" (she's right!)

8. What is her favorite thing to watch on TV?
M: The news??

9. What does your mom do when you’re not around?
M: Laundry

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
M: Writing a book.

11. What is your mom really good at?
M: Cooking

12. What is your mom not very good at?
M: I don't know. (She's always been my favorite child.)

13. What does your mom do for her job?
M: She's a stay-at-home mom.

14. What is your mom’s favorite food?
M: Ham and cheese loaf.

15. What makes you proud of your mom?
M: How she wants to teach me about the Bible.

16. If your mom were a television character, who would she be?
M: Kate Gosselin

17. What do you and your mom do together?
M: We read.

18. How are you and your mom the same?
M: We like to read.

19. How are you and your mom different?
M: I don't get riled up about politics.

20. What does your mom like most about your dad?
M: That he's a Christian.

21. Where is your mom’s favorite place to go?
M: Home.

One Word

Happy Friday night. While most of my family is attending the most exciting basketball game in my alma mater's history, I'm sitting at home with a sick little girl. Not that I'm sad about that or anything.

So, in honor of boredom, I thought I'd just try this little "meme" that I've seen around the blogosphere and on Facebook. You're supposed to use only one word for each. One word? That's nearly impossible for me, but I'll give it a whirl.

Where is your cell phone? purse

your hair? cute

your father? great

your mother? friendly

Your favorite thing? family

your dream last night? none

your favorite drink? Coke

your dream/goal? published

the room you are in? family

your fear? failure

where do you want to be in 6 years? here

muffins? fattening

one of your wish list items? backsplash

where you grew up? farm

the last thing you did? dinner

what are you wearing? sweats

your tv? flat

your computer? appreciated

your life? Wonderful

your mood? tired

missing someone? Sarah

your car? minivan

favorite store? Nordstrom

your summer? bliss

your favorite color? red

when is the last time you laughed? today

last time you cried? noclue

someone who emails me? Mom

a favorite food? pizza

place I would rather be right now? Kiawah

Ah, the comfort of Oatmeal Cake

Whenever my friend, Amy, gets together with her mom and sisters their "girl talk" centers around laundry. Can you believe that? Laundry!

(I try hard to not think about laundry for six days out of the week. On one day of the week I actually have to clean some clothes, but I sure wish I didn't.)

Amy swears that she and her home gals love the laundry talk. The latest in stain fighting techniques makes them giddy. I cannot tell you how many times I've spilled on myself in front of Amy and she's offered to clean my shirt.

Know what they don't talk about when they get together? Food. Can you believe that?!

Now, this is a completely foreign concept for me because for as long as I can remember (and this goes back to growing up on the farm), my mom, sisters, and I have talked food. Every time we get together we talk about what new recipes we've tried lately. We talk about our favorite Food Network shows (Paula Deen, of course!). We even help each other plan menus for parties.

We are a family of food lovers.

Probably about once a week someone in my family will send a group email asking for a recipe, a menu idea, or a "what's-for-dinner?".

So last week when Jenn asked for the recipe for Mom's Oatmeal Cake, we all chimed in with an "ooooh, that sounds so good!" Mom's Oatmeal Cake is a very old fashioned recipe for rich, dense, chocolate cake with white frosting. It's my dad's favorite cake.

Suddenly, a plan was concocted and kitchens from Chicago to Dallas to Tucson started firing up their ovens. All four of us made Oatmeal Cake last weekend, and I have almost all the pictures to prove it. (Somehow Jenn's pictures didn't make it. Sorry.)

Jodi and I used regular oats for ours, and we both thought it was a little dry around the edges. I don't know what Jenn used, but she thought her cake was dry too. Mom used instant oatmeal, and hers, of course, was perfect.

So now, here are some pictures of the Great Oatmeal Cakeathon of 2009.

Mom's beautiful cake:




Jodi's artistic endeavor (with her husband Matt in the picture--isn't he cute?!)



And my sad contribution:
(and don't even start with me about how my photos are bigger than theirs. I don't know how that happens!)



Should you have a craving for some good, old fashioned comfort food, you should try this recipe. And don't forget to trace some diamonds in the frosting on the top of your cake.

Oatmeal Cake
1 C. oatmeal
1 1/2 C. boiling water
1/2 C. shortening
1 1/2 C. white sugar
2 eggs
1 1/4 C. flour
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
1/2 C. cocoa

Combine oatmeal and boiling water in a small bowl. Let stand for 20 minutes.

Cream together shortening, sugar, and eggs. Add oatmeal mixture.

Sift together flour, soda, salt, and cocoa. Add to creamed mixture.

Put in a greased 9 x 13" pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes.


White Frosting
1/4 C. butter, softened
1 t. vanilla
1/2 pound powdered sugar
about 1/4 C. milk

Note: I doubled the frosting recipe because, well, I like a lot of frosting!

Why I may actually be forced to read one of my high school novels again.

True confessions time . . . I am not as culturally savvy as I should be. There are lots of some books I should have read that I haven't read. There are other books I've read that I wish I hadn't read.

I have a Master's degree in English, and I confess that I'm not a Tolkien fan.

There, I said it. It's out in the open now. If this makes me culturally illiterate, and I'm sure it does, you can stop reading my blog now. Click the "X" in the corner and never return.

But I feel much better. Like a load has been lifted from my shoulders.

I remember reading "The Hobbit" as a freshman in high school. I'm sure this is where my dislike of Tolkien began because, as I think about it now, I don't think I've attempted to read another of his books.

"The Hobbit" put me to sleep. I couldn't keep the characters straight. I didn't understand this make-believe world of the Hobbits. And what kind of a name is Bilbo anyhow?

Reading "The Hobbit" was sheer torture to me.

So when Maggie's fifth grade reading class read that same book a few weeks ago I was really worried. How could a fifth grader understand that book if I didn't get it as a freshman? And, worse, what if she needed help with her homework?

I talked to B about it, and he confessed that he, too, wasn't much of a Tolkien fan for the very same reason I wasn't. He had read "The Hobbit" somewhere down the educational line and didn't much like it either. Needless to say, we haven't seen "The Lord of the Rings" much less read it.

One night over dinner we got to talking about how Maggie was beginning the great Hobbit adventure, and Kate and Abby both confessed that they hadn't liked the book either. Yes, we're a family of Hobbit-haters!

But Maggie started reading the book every night, along with a tape we got from the library. She has an excellent reading teacher who explained the setting and the characters and even the subtle moral lessons along the way. A couple of weeks later, at dinner again, Maggie sheepishly confessed that she was actually sort-of-kind-of enjoying "The Hobbit."

(We haven't yet decided whether or not to kick her out of the family.)

This week she showed me her final project from her class's study of "The Hobbit." To say I was impressed is an understatement. She had filled a legal-sized page with all of the trials and confrontations Bilbo had encountered on his journey. Next to each trial was the lesson that Bilbo learned from it.

At the top of the chart was a large circle in which each student was to write the "most precious insight" that Bilbo learned through the book. Maggie wrote this: "Adventures (big or small) are important because you learn things."

I love that!

Have you read the quote at the top of my blog? Have you noticed my subtitle?

I wonder if, in some small way, Bilbo Baggins crept into my subconscience all those years ago and instilled in me some sense of adventure.

I wonder if I might actually be a Hobbit-lover after all.

College Choices

B and I are in the throes of choosing a college.

Just kidding! Kate is in the throes of choosing a college--even a college to which she just might send an application. It's a big, confusing maze.

So we did what every good set of helicopter parents would do, we bought college guides. One is called "The Insiders Guide to the Colleges" and the other is the "Fiske Guide to Colleges." Both are the 2009 editions.

Fiske is a little more technical, giving lots of statistics and information that parents probably want to know about the schools, like HOW MUCH THIS IS ACTUALLY GOING TO COST ME.

But "The Insider's Guide" was a hoot. I highly recommend this book if you have a high schooler. You'll get the "inside scoop" from real students, and whoo doggy, some of it is truly insider info. More than we parents would like to know, believe me.

Anyway, we read the entry for our alma mater (dubbed one of the places "Most Likely to Find Your Spouse"), and we found the information surprisingly accurate.

So we headed to some of the schools our daughter is checking out these days and found some very interesting information.

School Number 1, although academically rigorous, is also rigorous in other activities as well. The social scene is dominated by Greek life, and weeknights, as well as weekends, are often spent bar-hopping. But, the book also reassures us that, "Yet, despite the apparent prominence of alcohol and Greek life on campus, students insisted that those who prefer not to participate in either activity could still manage to find their own ways to have fun." Ah, sure.

Let's move on to School Number 2. This school is located in the South. We've all been kind of pulling for this one because, frankly, we'd all like to move. I mean, if Kate goes to school somewhere warm we'd all feel like we should come along. Just call us the Clampetts.

So the write-up on School Number 2 starts out great. It talks about how academically challenging the school is. In fact, many students "lament that if they had gone elsewhere they would have had higher GPAs." The student-teacher ratio is low, another plus.

The campus itself sounds like a paradise with beautiful gardens, lush meadows, and even a lake in the middle of campus. I can't wait to see it--we have a visit scheduled in a few weeks.

And then "The Insider's Guide" goes on to say this about School Number 2: "Students generally agree that random hook-ups are significantly more common than official dates . . . but despite all this arbitrary 'messing around,' students report that STDs are not rampant." Well now, that's a relief.

School Number 3? Well, apparently School Number 3 is too small (or too far out in the boondocks) to even make it into these books because there was no write-up in either book on School Number 3. Hmmmm.

School Number 4, then. Well, School number 4 happens to be, as we've been told, Kate's "backup" school. Did you even have a "backup" school when you were applying to college? I know I didn't. I was just happy to get accepted somewhere . . . anywhere. (Funny thing was that after I got accepted to my School Number 1, I changed my mind and started the search all over again. That's how I ended up at my alma mater.)

Now, I know that there is no perfect school, and college is what you make of it. Heck, I've been around college students for years--I should know that better than most parents. But now the professor hat comes off and the parent hat goes on, and some of this stuff is a little unsettling.

My daughter, bless her heart, has a great head on her shoulders. She is an amazing kid who makes me proud every single day. I have no worries about her--it's just everyone else out there I worry about. Will they be good to her? Will they see her as the wonderful, beautiful girl I know she is? I could drive myself crazy with the questions.

And so, the list continues to grow. Tonight Kate started reading up on a couple more possibilities. We may have to make a few cross-country trips to figure out if any of these schools are even application-worthy.

But first we'll check the books . . . if my heart can take it.

Sadly?

Last weekend I accompanied Abby's high school orchestra on a little overnight trip to the University of Illinois. The trip was fine. Fun, actually.

The best part of the weekend was hearing Abby's orchestra play their 25 minute program. What a spectacular performance! Those kids can play!

I have to give most of the credit to their conductor. This woman is so hard-working; all weekend I noticed that she really loves what she does. She should be so proud of the work she is doing with those kids.

So if my following comments seem like I'm picking on her, I'm not. I have nothing but admiration for what she does. It's more a cultural thing that I noticed last weekend that I just have to get off my chest.

As the orchestra was warming up, their teacher was having them practice a difficult transition in one of the pieces. She was explaining to the kids that she wanted it to be a smooth transition, almost romantic-like.

As she was describing the type of flowing music she was looking for, she said to the kids, "Pretend you live in the 1950's and, sadly, you're a wife waiting for her husband to come through the door, and you're handing him a martini." Then she stopped herself and, as an aside said with a chuckle, "No, I guess I don't mean 'sadly'."

She knew the minute the word was out of her mouth that she shouldn't have said it. But it was too late. She had already given the impression to a roomful of high school students that being a wife who stays home is a "sad" thing to be.

Guess what. I'm one of those wives. I'm one of those mothers who stays home. (No, I don't hand my husband a martini when he walks in the door--B doesn't like martinis.) And you know what? I'm not sad at all.

Believe me, it took me a good number of years to get to this point. When my children were younger I was sad. I struggled. A lot. Those days were the hardest days of my life, and I would have given anything to just get a job and head to work in the morning.

But B and I had made a decision that someone would stay home with our kids when they were young. Financially, it just made the most sense to have me do it.

Now that my girls are older and, yes, my days are a little easier, I can say that I made the right choice to be home with them. I love being their mom; I love that I can walk Maggie over to school in the morning; I love that I can be home when they get home from school; I love the relationships that we share. It's a great job.

Here's the thing I keep thinking about. If the feminist movement of the '60's and '70's was about giving women choices, why is it considered "sad" if a woman makes the choice to stay home with her children? I mean, it is MY choice, is it not? And if I'm happy with my choice, why should others consider it sad?

I admit it, I was deeply offended by the off-handed comment made by this teacher. I'm usually not easily offended . . . at all . . , but one word--"sadly"--diminished the choice I have made. It made me feel small, worthless, and, yes, sad.

That's not how I want my daughters to look at the life I've chosen. And if they should make the same choice, I don't want them to think it's second best.

Should they choose to have a career and work while their children are small, I would support them in that too. Because there is no right or wrong way to do things.

The thing I want my girls to know, the way I would want them to look at their future choices, comes from I Corinthians 10:31 where it says, ". . . whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God."

As long as we remember that--no matter what we choose to do with our lives--we can be assured that we have chosen a life well-lived.

Travel Tuesday - Late Edition

Once again, Travel Tuesday comes in under the wire. I was going to talk about Covent Garden because one of my girls suggested it, but that'll have to wait.

Instead, I was dreaming, as usual, about travel. I was thinking about where on each of the continents, I'd like to visit at some point in my life.

So I thought I'd share that list with you.

NORTH AMERICA
There are still so many unexplored regions of North America that I'd like to see. I've never been to the Northwestern United States (too cloudy for my tastes). I've never been to much of Mexico (Tijuana and Nogales just didn't do much for me).

I think the place I'd most like to see in North America that I haven't already seen is Montreal. Known as the second largest French-speaking city outside of Paris, it just sounds romantic.

SOUTH AMERICA
I've been to Brazil, but didn't get to see much of the country, so I'd love to see more of the Brazilian countryside, especially the Amazon region. But I'd also like to venture to Argentina for the beef. Oh, and also for that wonderful little Malbec wine they make. (What can I say? I'm a foodie at heart.)

EUROPE
Oh my, there are too many wonderful places in Europe to even begin to choose. I would love to explore more of Switzerland (and besides, B owes me some fondue). I'd love to see Germany. And Prague. But if I had to narrow it down, I'd say two places in Europe I'd love to see are Provence and Tuscany. I think I could fall in love with both of those areas if given the chance.

AFRICA
Kenya, of course. I've been dreaming of going on Safari for as long as I can remember. For now, I'll just have to look at my friend's pictures--she got to go last summer.

ASIA
Now it's getting a little tougher because, honestly, I don't have a strong desire to go to Asia. I guess Japan would be where I'd head first.

AUSTRALIA
Another toughie for me. Australia seems hot, dry, and dusty. But I suppose if my arm is twisted I could manage to go there.

Now, I know that this is not technically on the Australian continent, and having done a little research I found that this place is actually a "continent" of its own. One place in the Australian region I'd like to go is New Zeland. It seems like such a lush, green, and beautiful country. The people seem warm and friendly. And we have friends who live there, so who knows? Maybe someday we'll get there.

ANTARCTICA
Since I have rather strong feelings about winter, all I can say about Antarctica is . . . no way, no how, not EVER.

So now I'd like to know . . . where would YOU like to go?

Do the Hokey Pokey . . .

I love words. I love what you can do with words. Words bring me joy. Words make me smile.

I also love those little plaques that they sell in girly boutiques that have pithy sayings on them. Some of them make me laugh. Some of them make me think. I even have a couple of them in my own home.

So you can imagine the chuckle I got from this sign that I saw in my daughter's school library yesterday:

"What if the Hokey Pokey really IS what it's all about?"

Seven Quick Takes Friday

-1-
I am laughing to myself right now because, according to B, I went "off the grid" this morning. Now, this is a new term to me, but I kind of got the essence of what he meant. Apparently, leaving a silly Facebook status and then leaving the house for a couple of hours and not taking my cell phone with me causes a nationwide panic to set in.

Literally.

I had people from Georgia to Arizona wondering what was going on with me.

I'm fine. Really fine. Just being silly.

It is nice to know so many people care, though. Thanks everyone!


-2-
Now, on to more serious matters.

I heard yesterday that shares of Hormel are going through the roof because sales of Spam and Dinty Moore Beef Stew are way up due to the economy. (Is it just me or is everything these days tied to the economy?) I got my fill of Spam as a kid, thankyouverymuch, and I just can't stomach that stuff. The squishy jelly that surrounds the "meat," the strange combination of spices, and even the protein itself (it's hard to even call it meat)--all of it just kind of freaks me out. I might as well be eating Thunder's food.

Sorry, kids, as much as I'd enjoy the challenge of making that stuff actually taste good, I am NOT going to treat you to that piece of cultural literacy.

-3-
While we're on the topic of the economy . . . I've pretty much stopped watching the news these days. My heart can't take what has happened in our country over the past few weeks. But this guy--Rick Santelli--caught my attention with the interview he did with CNBC yesterday. Watch the video, even if it's just the first 2 minutes or so, and let me know what you think.

A couple of his comments made me think, like when he says, "You can't buy your way into prosperity."

Or when he asks, "President Obama, are you listening?" I wonder . . .

-4-
I'm already in deep, so I'll just take the plunge . . . I feel like I live in a cesspool called the State of Illinois. Now it seems Rolland Burris wasn't exactly truthful when he gave sworn testimony in front of the Illinois Senate. Apparently he did contact Blogo's people--a few times--to let them know that he'd be interested in the Senate seat if offered to him. Oh, and if he needed a little help with some fundraising, just let Burris know.

These people just won't quit, will they? And the good people of this state are left trying to figure out how to pay for the mess these politicians have left for us.

O.K., enough about that.

-5-
Back to #1. Want to know what my Facebook status was? I said I was "trembling with fear."

Want to know what I was fearful of?

This afternoon I will be getting on a bus and riding three hours to the University of Illinois with 140 high school orchestra students. If that isn't enough to leave you quaking in your boots, we are supposed to get somewhere between 6 to 10 inches of snow tonight and tomorrow. So, combine a bus, high schoolers, and all that snow, and you've got one trembling mama.

But do you want to know why I'm going? Well, the orchestra teacher sent an email to all the parents saying that she needed chaperones, so I asked Abby if she'd want me to go (hey, I'm not stupid--I'm not going to put myself through this kind of torture if my daughter didn't want me there!). To my surprise, Abby said yes, she would love it if I came along. It sure didn't take me long to email that teacher back to sign up. I know the day will come when Abby says that, no, she wouldn't like me to come along, so as long as she wants me there, I'm there.

So, here I am, about two hours away from a new adventure. With high schoolers. Should be interesting. (I wonder if I should pack sometime soon.)

-6-
This morning was a bit of a milestone for Maggie and me. I dropped her off at school on my way to the gym. (No, that's not the milestone! Keep reading!) Normally we walk to school--it's only 2 blocks away--but I was on my way and the wind chill is below zero again, so I dropped her off.

Now, Maggie loves me. She REALLY loves me. She's what you might call "attached" to me. I haven't worried about it--I figure she'll grow out of it in about a year or two when it's not cool to like your mom in middle school.

But on days past, especially if I was leaving for a night and Maggie wouldn't be seeing me for a while, she would have made a big production out of hugging me and kissing me and saying goodbye. She would have said, "Bye! I love you!" about 20 times. (She gets her closure issues from me.)

This morning, however, Maggie gave me a hug and a kiss, said "I love you" and simply got out of the car and headed to the school. No big production. No sappy tears. She just said goodbye and walked away.

In a way, it made me sad, but in another way I was so relieved. It was just another sign that Maggie is growing up. It didn't mean that she didn't love me any less than she did yesterday. It didn't mean that I wasn't still her #1 person. It just meant that she didn't feel the need for all that drama. She knew that I would be back tomorrow night and that everything would be fine.

This, my friends, is a huge milestone.

-7-
I have no #7. I think I'm just so wrung out over politics and the economy that if I wrote any more, things would get ugly.

So I'll stop right here and just wish you a great weekend!

(Thanks, Jen at Conversion Diary, for hosting this very fun carnival. Pop on over there to read her 7 Quick Takes.)

Someone I'd like you to meet

Today I want to introduce you to someone who has, as they say, more talent in her little finger than I have in my entire body. Someone who is creative, thoughtful, and well-travelled. Someone who loves God, deeply.

This person is an artist extrodinaire who, in the past few years, has gotten into calligraphy. So well has she "dabbled" in this medium, in fact, that last year she won the prestigious Newberry Purchase Award for one of her pieces during the annual Chicago Calligraphy Collective juried art show.

She has studied with some of the world's foremost calligraphers. (Ever heard of Timothy Botts?) And last year, as a result of the Newberry Award, she travelled to Brugges, Belgium to study calligraphy there.

Believe me, this girl can make beautiful letters!

Please meet my sister-in-law, Julie Wildman. She has started her own blog recently where she highlights some of her work and you can check it out by clicking here.

I have a couple of Julie's pieces hanging in my house (including the one in the picture above), and I absolutely love them. If you'd like to have a couple of Julie's pieces hanging in YOUR house, you can contact her through her blog to purchase them.

And if you'd like to see some beautiful calligraphic work in person, you can visit the Newberry Library in Chicago through March 28 to see the Chicago Calligraphy Collective juried art show.

Learning Hard Lessons

Does it sometimes seem like God is hitting you over the head with a theme?

A while back I wrote about how my dear friend admitted her feelings of loneliness to me . . . such a gift to this lonely mom. Her transparency blessed me that day and on many days since.

Then last week, Lysa TerKeurst wrote about women and relationships. Again, it has stayed with me.

Today I stumbled across this post about friendships.

On Monday of this week I had a brief, unexpected visit with an old friend--kind of "God thing." We started talking about life-in-general and ended up, on my end of things anyway, having a great conversation about trusting God with our future, no matter what He has in store for us. It was encouraging. Deep. Quick. But it was the kind of encounter that I wish I had more often with friends. With women.

After reading, writing, talking through all of this I wonder what God is doing. Why He's trying to get my attention in this way. I used to think it was because God was affirming all of my insecurities about other women. I used to think it was because He was somehow agreeing with me by putting those posts in my way. ("See, God? They really are petty and catty!")

But now I'm thinking that He has something more for me to learn. To change. I think He's tapping me on the shoulder and trying to get me to look at how short I fall in the friendship arena rather than at those who might have fallen short, in my own estimation, with me.

Travel Tuesday - Redeux

On Sunday night I received such a treat when Kate asked me if I'd watch "Notting Hill" with her.

She certainly didn't have to ask twice because "Notting Hill" is one of my all-time favorite movies.

(Eventually Abby joined us. And then B. But not poor Maggie who, even though she was in bed, felt VERY left out--she's nowhere near ready for "Notting Hill.")

Anyway, as I was watching the movie, it occurred to me that I needed to resurrect Travel Tuesday. The scenery reminded me of one of my favorite places--London--and more specifically Portobello Road Market which takes place every Saturday in Notting Hill.

I first visited Portobello Road when I was a college student, and I remember being energized by the environment there. Crowded. Bustling. Loud. Haggling. It was one of those electric environments that you just never forget.

And so, when I took Kate to London last spring, I knew I wanted her to experience that environment too. Besides, I wondered if it had changed much in the 20+ years since I'd been there.

It hadn't. It was still so much fun. Even walking to the market was a thrill as block after block more and more people joined us until, by the time we reached the first market stalls, everyone was pretty much walking shoulder to shoulder. There was no way a car was going to get through the streets on that day.

Let me tell you, Portobello Road on a Saturday morning is something worth seeing--and there is anything and everything you'd ever want to see there.

Need a violin? Take your pick!


Hungry? Have some paella! Isn't it beautiful?


Need some entertainment along the way? These guys were GREAT!


But the thrill of my morning that Saturday was finding this:

It's The Travel Bookshop of "Notting Hill" fame. (In case you haven't seen the movie, one of the main characters runs a travel book shop where they only sell travel books.)

Kate and I took a couple of minutes to walk through this maze of a book shop. It's crowded with books and filled with tourists, but it stays true to its roots--the store still sells nothing but travel books. Oh, O.K., we also saw some maps, but still, those are travel-related, right?

So, if you're heading to London, definitely take a Saturday morning to visit Portobello Road and visit The Travel Bookshop. But if you're not going to get to London any time soon, why not watch "Notting Hill" and get your fill of some really great London scenery.

Going Somewhere?

A few summers ago I decided to read the original "Dr. Doolittle" to the girls (the original title is . . . get ready for this . . . "The Story of Dr. Doolittle: Being the History of His Peculiar Life at Home and Astonishing Adventures in Foreign Parts Never Before Printed"--whew!). You know, the 1920 classic by Hugh Lofting that is nothing like the 1967 movie version with Rex Harrison and even less like the 1998 movie with Eddie Murphy.

One thing the book and the movies all have in common, though, is a character called the Pushmi-pullyu. I best remember it from the movie I watched as a kid. It was kind of like a siamese llama, all fluffy and white, with a head on each end.

This poor animal, though, didn't know which direction it was going. One head wanted to go one way; the other head wanted to go the other. Both heads had to really work together to get anywhere.

On a lot of days I feel like that poor Pushmi-pullyu.

Take today, for instance. It's President's Day, which means no school. Most of me wants to do something fun with the girls, like go see a movie or head to the mall. But what HAS to be done are dentist appointments, eye doctor appointments, laundry, music lessons, and getting one child to her job. Today will be a day when I'll be heading in all sorts of directions and probably not getting a lot done.

To widen the scope a little bit here, when I look at the future, I feel much like that Pushmi-pullyu, too. Do I want to keep my focus, as it has been for so many years, on being "Mom" to my girls? That's a wonderful thing and something I love doing. Or do I want to pursue other options that swirl around in my head? Writing? Speaking? Teaching? And if I pursued those options, when would be the right time to do that?

The tough thing about being at this point in my life is that I could spend years wandering around, contemplating, wondering which direction to move. And nothing would get done. I don't want that to happen.

But here's the great thing. I have options. We all do, whether we realize it or not. Yes, I feel pushed and pulled in all directions right now, but that's O.K. Maybe that's just what life is all about.

How about you? Are you being pushed and pulled? What are the options facing you right now?

(Just a note: if you have kids and are looking for something good to read with them this summer, check out Hugh Lofting's "Dr. Doolittle" books--there are several. You might enjoy one of them as much as we did.)

Dear Blog,

I love you. I really do.

Over the past eight (can it really be EIGHT?) months you have become a constant companion to me. You have provided me with many hours of enjoyment. You have been on my mind more than I care to admit.

Plus, you have stretched me to do things, say things, write things, that I would have never dreamed I would do, or say, or write. I'm thankful to you for that.

You have brought new people into my life. People I now look up to. People I have learned from. People who read my words and like them.

Dear Blog, you are a wonderful addition to my life, and I just wanted to take a minute to thank you.

But, dear friend, I have neglected you lately. I have not brought you out and played with you as much as I should have, and for that I am very sorry.

So, I want you to know that in the midst of my busy life, I haven't forgotten about you. And I'll try to do better.

Next week.