Archives for 2010

I love the library system. The whole process of borrowing informative materials is wonderful.

Our local branch library, however, is the armpit of Bellevue as I have proclaimed here previously.

I don’t know why I was surprised today to be stalled by the Barney Fife of the Bellevue Library at my attempt to check out a book.

Chris had asked me to pick up a book that he had on hold. Numerous times, I have checked out his book on my card from the circulation clerk who looks a little bit like the stapler dude in Office Space. This has never been a problem.

But today, I was called on the carpet by Barney, who inquired, “Are you an approved user on his account?”

Oh, once again, a library policy—that I HAVE NO IDEA EXISTS—catches me off guard.

“Uh, I dunno.”

He checks. I’m not.

“I’m sorry. You’re not an approved user. I can’t check it out for you. You can speak with the manager.”

I was in a hurry so I just shoved the book back to him. “No. I can’t stay any longer. Can you just re-label it and put it back on the shelf and I’ll have my husband MAKE ANOTHER TRIP OVER HERE to get his book?”

I stomped out, fuming.

But then I considered this all-important policy and decided that surely it thwarts all kinds of mischief and destruction of library property.

I mean, who doesn’t realize that the best way to get back at someone is to peruse the hold shelf at the library, find that person’s book, check it out, and then NOT RETURN IT ON TIME? Ooooooooo. Now that’s some real treachery right there that needs to be nipped in the bud. I’m sure the rate of unauthorized check-outs and non-returns was epidemic to create a new policy.

Good gravy.

Save me from the Bellevue branch library. 

photo: morguefile

Squeezed into my errands and appointments today was Zoe’s annual physical exam. (Zoe is our 9 pound little Bijon/Shih Tzu canine family member.)

Yep. Zoe has already been a Bernard for a year! She’s such a precious girl and so sweet to the kids. She puts up with a lot.

So, after the exam today, the vet left the room to read some of the remaining tests and get some things together. I put Zoe’s leash on and just let her run around my feet and sniff the exam room. I used the opportunity for quiet to lean back in the chair and close my eyes and rest.

(It reminded me of all those pregnancy appointments when I’d wait on the doctor and end up stretching out on the exam table, curled in the fetal position beneath the glaring flourescents. Hey, you take rest where you can get it when you’re a busy mom of three and almost 40.)

Anyway.

I’m sitting there listening to vet office noises outside the closed doors and mentally ticking off my to-do list when–bleh!–I notice a strong odor. Yuck, I think. There must be a stinky dog outside the door.

A few seconds pass. Another whiff.
 
Oh, really, that’s so gross. That’s really yuck. Someone needs to go clean that up. 

Close the eyes.

Nasal assault.

About that time, the doctor comes back in. He immediately smiles and says, “Well, Zoe, looks like you had a little accident.”

It was only then that I turn my head ever so slightly to glance beside my foot to see two huge you-know-whats on the floor.

I was completely oblivious that it was my dog who was the perpetrator.

You think I’m a smidge too distracted these days?

As you can see, The Writer’s Block is under construction. With my Christmas money, I bought a new blog design! Some girls dream of shoes and bags or makeup and jewelry. Not me. I fantasize about my blog.

So, anyway, I think it’s still in progress and needs some tweaking here and there. I’ll let you know when it’s all finished and everything is in its right spot.

This week has been heart-wrenching as I’ve continued to keep online vigil for my friend, David Hames. As of tonight, he remains missing in Haiti. Hope remains alive, however, since a man was found alive today–14 days after the earthquake. I am praying constantly for his rescue. I think it would be an incredible testimony to God’s gracious glory if this man is found alive. I pray so, anyway.

The word, between, is only used when talking about two entities. The word, among, is used when talking about more than two entities. So, please note:

I must choose between the two books. (Correct)
She shares her books between the four family members. (Incorrect)
She shares her books among the four family members. (Correct)

You’re welcome.

I’m convinced my laundry is procreating behind my back. Mama Sock and Daddy Sock are having Baby Socks, while Mama Sweater and Daddy Sweater are spawning Baby Shirts, Baby Pajamas, and Baby Undies.

I’m preparing for their revolution any day now. If laundry can figure out how to procreate, they can certainly organize themselves into a mutiny.

image: morguefile

I continue to check for news about my friend, David Hames, who remains buried beneath the crumpled Hotel Montana in Haiti.

This week has affected me in ways I never expected.

I wasn’t best friends with David in college and had lost touch with him until last year. Yet I am consumed with his experience and burdened for his safety. I am pretty much obsessed with his plight.

You know what I think it is? It’s God.

I’m sure others have been in similar situations (maybe during 9/11 or another large-scale tragedy), but this is a first for me. This is the first time a major news event has had microscopic proportions—the first time a news event has become personal.

And so, in the middle of this tragedy, God’s people are rallying. God’s people are crying out. God’s people are encouraging one another.

And it’s amazing.

I am exhilarated by the unity of our voices in begging for our friend. I am encouraged by the solidarity of our purpose in rescuing David. I am touched that David—a long-lost friend who, for all intents and purposes, is now a stranger to me—has such a community of God-honoring Christ-lovers interceding on his behalf.

The family of God is anonymous and instantly recognizable all at the same time. How wonderful Heaven will be: a great family reunion of strangers, yet kinfolk!

What I’m trying to say is that my faith has been strengthened in this ordeal. My belief, my hope, my courage in the Lord have been confirmed time and again by these living, breathing, “great clouds of witnesses” on earth right now.

Friends, we are waiting. But we serve a God who waits for nothing.

I’ve been thinking of those times of waiting where: 1. God delivered; and 2. God’s ultimate good purpose was fulfilled. A few examples:

• Noah and his family waiting out the storm for 40 days (it was another two weeks until they actually left the Ark)
• The Israelites’ wandering in the wilderness for 40 years
• Jonah in the belly of the fish for 3 days
• And of course, after Jesus’ crucifixion, his followers waiting for his resurrection

Lord God, 
We pray David’s (and all those trapped in earthquake rubble) waiting will soon come to an end. We pray his wait from your hand of providence will show all your glorious good purposes.
In Christ’s name we pray, Amen. 

I’m not sure how to begin this post.

All I can think of tonight is that an old college friend, David Hames, is about to begin his eighth day buried—trapped—caged in mountains of concrete, dirt, and dust. Can he see light? Is he hurt? Does he, in fact, have food and water with him?

David is awaiting rescue from the rubble of the Hotel Montana in Haiti.

Since late last week, when I first heard of David’s situation, I’ve been preoccupied with his situation. I’ve been maniacally checking my friends’ Facebook pages for updates. I’ve been praying and asking for prayer and posting requests for prayer.

I can’t get his wife and two preschool aged kids (whom I’ve never met) out of my mind.

I met David Hames probably in the fall of 1990. I don’t remember exactly, but he posted something on Facebook that helps me point to that time period. We worked together at the college television station.

He was a broadcast production major, and I was a broadcast journalism major. I don’t have specific memories of him. Instead, he’s a constant fixture when I think back on those days. I remember he was funny, talented, and cute. I’m sure I had a slight crush on him, attracted no doubt by the mullet (that all the cute boys had, I might add).

My senior year I was news director and he worked as production manager (I think). At any rate, we were on the “leadership team” at the campus TV station together.

After graduation, we lost touch. We reconnected last year on Facebook. I was so impressed with David when I saw his accomplishments. He had stayed in video production and thrived. Last year he produced a Christian preschool children’s video.

And after exchanging the “congratulations” and “how are yous?” that are typical on Facebook, I honestly didn’t think much more about David Hames.

Until last week.

While reading my news feed, I noticed a mutual friend’s post mentioned that David had been in Haiti on a video shoot when the earthquake hit. He was missing.

It’s been a monitored vigil ever since.

I ask my readers for prayers. I am confident God hears our prayers. We do not know how or when he will answer but we do know that God is good. 

Lord God, 
Rescue our friend. Protect his health until help comes. Comfort his wife and children. 
In Christ’s name, 
Amen.

She writes, “Kitchen Stewardship is dedicated to balancing God’s gifts of time, health, earth and money.” I’ve already learned so much from Katie, although I’ve only been subscribed for a few weeks.

Make sure you check out her Real Food Face-Off series, where she invites guest bloggers to share their stories of whole food eating. Lots and lots of great information here.

Feeling a little down in the dreariness of winter? I actually am starting to come out of my seasonal funk with the newness of the year and the ever-so-slight lengthening of days. But we still have a long way to go until the warmth of late April.

I heard an interview last week with the author of this article from New York magazine. It’s 50 Simple Steps to Happiness. Many of them are New York-centric, but some of the broadly appealing ones include making your bed everyday (FlyLady has known this for years!) and painting your walls yellow. I love the practicality of these and surrounding yourself with the scent of cucumber!

I’ll be attending my first-ever blogging conference in a few short weeks. Blissdom will be held at Opryland here in Nashville.

The speakers and workshops are to be amazing PLUS Harry Connick, Jr. (Harry! Connick! Jr.!, people) is slated to be a special guest. I think until my husband heard of the special guest, he thought I was going to something like a glorified moms’ night out. But with Harry on the agenda? “Oh! That’s a big deal! Like A-level big time!” Uh-huh, baby.

I expect to learn a lot, meet some fabulous women bloggers/writers/communicators, and be inspired beyond belief. I’m especially excited about two small group opportunities: a dinner/discussion with the Savvy Blogging gals and a dinner with the Faithful Blogger gals.

And the best part? In an unexpected last-minute decision, Rebecca @ Toothwhale and I got a room at the Opryland Hotel for one night. Yay! A night in a hotel. I barely remember what that is like.

If you are going to Blissdom and you and I don’t know each other in real life, please leave me a note in the comments. I’m trying to create a master list of all the people I want to meet there.

I’ll tell you what kind of week I’ve had.

• The kind of week where I play musical beds with sick children. 
• The kind of week where I take one boy to the doctor’s office to get a diagnosis of strep throat and ear infection and then…
• The kind of week where I’m back at the doctor’s office 24 hours later with boy #2 to get another strep diagnosis. 
• The kind of week where I’m suffering from whiplash due to the number of times I’ve gone back and forth to the grocery and pharmacy. 
• The kind of week when one toilet is not working.
• The kind of week where my daughter falls face down at school, warranting an unexpected trip to the dentist (she’s fine, by the way). 
• The kind of week where I run out of groceries and must send my boys to school without lunches on Friday. 
• The kind of week where I do another grocery run (after taking them to school) to get lunch items, hurriedly pack two lunches, and deliver said lunches to the preschool with moments to spare before lunchtime.
• The kind of week where one of my boys had to pee in a plastic Pump It Up emblazoned cup in the van while we waited in the car-rider pickup line at school.  (Oh yes, he did.)

And that was the kind of week I had.

When I was a girl, I walked up hill in the snow both ways to school—

Oh, wait, no. That’s the wrong cliched illustration.

What I meant to say was this:

When I was a girl, I watched for the Snowbird report on the local news to see our county on the state map with little snowflakes falling. I also listened to our local AM radio station.

TV. Radio. Maps. The icons of my childhood snow days.

Last week, we had two snow days off from school. Not much snow but enough to make the roads slippery.

My kids don’t know who Snowbird is. We get our school closing information on demand from the website, text messaging, Facebook and Twitter chatter, or the automated phone call from the school system.

I feel a little caught between the worlds of progress and nostalgia.

I love, love, love the information age in which we live. I’m an information-gathering girl. God smiled on me when he ordained my living in the 21st century.

But don’t we tend to romanticize the past and rewrite our histories? Maybe I’m just nostalgic for the excitement surrounding the snow day.

No doubt I’d rather be a six-year-old with few cares except performing the right “ritual” of ice in the toilet, spoon under the pillow, and wearing pajamas inside out in order to coax snowfall.

I think I just feel old.

Sometimes I’d like to go back to rotary phones, record players, and a cell-phone free life.

Sometimes I miss simplicity. Not always, but sometimes.

So, it seems lately I’m posting recipes in response to tweets. My friend and fellow blogger, Brigid,  twittered that she was stunned she had just now discovered Havarti cheese.

That tweet reminded me of this awesome recipe passed to me by my friend, Pam Ferriss. I told Brigid that I’d post a Havarti recipe that would make her cry it was so good.

Get out your tissues and let out your belt a notch. This is gooooood!

(Please note that I’m writing out the original recipe in its entirety as it was given to me. I usually, however, make the easier, quicker version* as noted below.)

Herbed Havarti en Croute
(Heart & Soul)
1 sheet frozen puff pastry
1 t. Dijon-style mustard
12 ounces Havarti cheese
2 t. finely chopped nuts (walnuts or pecans, optional)
1 t. snipped parsley or 1/4 t. dried parsley flakes
1 t. grated orange peel
1 t. snipped fresh dille or 1/4 t. dried dillweed
1 t. snipped fresh basil or 1/4 t. dried basil, crushed
1/2 t. snipped fresh chives
1/4 t. fennel seed
Several dashes ground red pepper
1 beaten egg
Fruit

Let folded pastry stand at room temperature for 20 minutes to thaw. Spread mustard over top of cheese. Sprinkle with nuts, parsley, orange peel, dill, basil, chives, fennel seed, and red pepper. Unfold pastry and center over cheese. Invert cheese and fold two sides over cheese, overlapping edges. Seal seam with water. Trim any excess pastry from ends and fold up. Seal seams with water.

Place seam-side down, on a lightly greased baking sheet. (Optional: Use trimmed pastry to cut out shapes of leaves or fruit.  Brush bottom of cutouts with water and place on top of pastry-wrapped cheese.) Brush entire pastry with egg. Cover and chill for 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Bake about 20 minutes or until pastry is nicely browned. Cover with foil if it browns too quickly. Serve warm with the fruit. Makes 8 to 10 servings.

*Quicker variation
1 can Pillsbury crescent rolls
8 oz. Havarti cheese
1 beaten egg

Unroll 8 crescent rolls and form 2 (using 4 rolls each) squares, mashing the perforations together.  Place cheese on 1 square of pastry and place other pastry square over top of cheese. Seal edges of pastry (use a little water if necessary). Brush egg wash over pastry. Place pastry on lightly greased baking sheet. Bake at 400 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes, until browned. Cover with foil if browning too quickly. Serves 6 to 8.

Photo credit: dreamstime.com
Disclosure: I am an Amazon affiliate and receive a small commission based on sales from products I recommend. 

A few days ago, I responded to a friend’s tweet for an easy recipe for chicken in the Crock-pot.

Another follower and fellow blogger made it last night and sent me this rousing affirmation:

Seriously, the chicken was delicious. DELICIOUS! Have you posted the recipe on your blog? You should. Super-easy, super-cheap, and so tasty — the meat was tender and flavorful.

So, I offer it here for you now:

Easy Crock-pot Chicken
Place one whole chicken in the Crock-pot. Drizzle with olive oil. Liberally (be as heavy-handed as possible) sprinkle with seasoned salt, garlic powder, pepper, and dried rosemary. Pour about one cup of dry white wine* in the bottom of the Crock-pot (you may use water if you don’t have any wine on hand). Cook on low for eight hours.

*I buy the small four-pack of wine bottles to keep in the pantry. They each hold about 1 cup. Those little bottles are perfect for recipes. There’s no waste.

More about cooking with alcohol:

I buy chardonnay (dry white wine) to use in my chicken recipes. I buy merlot or cabernet sauvignon (dry red wine) to use in beef recipes.

Cognac is also delicious in chicken recipes. I have a chicken pot pie recipe where about 1/4 cup of cognac is added to the base sauteed veggie mixture and the alcohol cooks off before the chicken is added.

I add beer to chili and red wine to beef stew. In these recipes, I usually begin with a saute mixture of onion/garlic/pepper/celery, etc. I add the alcohol once those veggies are tender and cook for about 10-15 minutes. I then add liquid to the recipe (broth, tomato sauce, etc.).

Alcohol gives a great complex base flavor to my recipes.