Okay, Thanksgiving is over. I ate 4 different meals, one of which I cooked all by my lonesome (pictures may follow). I waited, respectfully, until yesterday before...Christmas music!

I do feel bad that all the other holidays get swallowed up by the Santa-candycane-tinsel maelstrom, but I have a shameless love of Christmas. I was shocked to hear my first carol of the season on the day after Halloween. I am a little disturbed by seeing twinkle lights while I still have leftover turkey. But. Burl Ives is like a sedative.

I was trying to explain to John the other day what Christmas was like for me as a kid. It reminded me of an episode of "The Golden Girls," where Rose is describing Christmas on the farm in St. Olaf and I think Dorothy asks something like, "Who was your father? Michael Landon?" Such were my idyllic childhood holidays.

I remember one year, I was probably 8 or 9, my mom's parents were visiting from LA. My dad's parents lived across the street from us, so all four grandparents were there. Because Grandpa Jack was just hanging out at our house, he always worked on little (and sometimes large) projects whenever they stayed with us. This particular visit, he made a large wooden star that he strung white lights on. We put colored lights along the porch railing and upstairs in my and Amy's windows. We opened our presents on Christmas day and it snowed. A beautiful snow. Deep and crisp. We all went outside that night to look at the lights in the snow. I wore my dad's size 14 shoes, so I practically skied down the hill. I think most of us made snow angels. I made snow angels with my grandparents, I remember that much. I can vividly remember, as we walked back to the house, my dad said it was the best Christmas he'd ever had.

I get teary-eyed every time I think about that. I also really miss my grandparents.

Labels: family., food., holiday.

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Sitting in our 'fridge right now is a bowl and a half of banana pudding. This is actually less than I was expecting to have left over. I made three big bowls of it to take to a church function tonight, not really knowing how many people would come. John and I are on the Mission Team and this year the team has chosen to support the Red Bird Mission in Beverly, KY. Our program tonight was called "A Night in Appalachia," because we were informing some of the people of the congregation about the mission and the region it's a part of. My banana pudding was a "regional" treat. Only I didn't make it the fancy way. I used instant Jell-o pudding and Cool Whip.

On Friday, the store where I work is having a Harry Potter midnight release party for book 7. That's in two days. We don't have the books. And we won't get them until Friday. Because Scholastic is freaking out that people will read it early and destroy all the fancy-pants secrets of who lives and dies or who ends up with whom. So because a bunch of meanies want to ruin the fun for everyone, I'm on pins and needles planning a party for a book I've yet to see.

Add to that the fact that our children's section is being / has been rebuilt this week. In fact, our carpenter is probably in the store right now installing some shelves.

On Monday, the book buyer and general manager of the store, who has been living in another state for two years, had her first day back in the store. So, I finally met the person I've been talking to on the phone nearly every day for over a year. It was sort of like meeting Charlie from Charlie's Angels. (At least, I guess that's what it was like, since I never really watched that show.)

Also on Monday, my old boss showed up at the store.

What a crazy week! I'm really looking forward to Saturday. We're probably not going to do much this weekend, so maybe I'll actually read. Or sew.

Our church and both of our jobs know that we're moving back to TN this fall, so I'm starting to feel the pressure of needing to prepare for that. John and I went to Lowe's this weekend and picked out stuff for the house we'll be moving into. (My parents own a little house in the woods that no one is using anymore. My sister lived there for a few years after she got married.) The house needs a little work, like new ceiling fans and paint.

We saw the new Harry Potter movie on Saturday, after going to Lowe's. I really liked it a lot, but the third one is still my favorite.

That night, I think I dreamed about Harry Potter flying around my new bathroom. But the details are a little fuzzy, so I'm not sure.

Labels: books., food., movies., work.

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I've been feeling very fuzzy lately.

And it certainly isn't because I'm not getting enough protein. I've been eating nothing but fish, chicken, and broccoli for three weeks now. Okay, I exaggerate. I've also been eating eggs and fat-free cheese. I have a domino-effect health problem that all boils down to my being on the South Beach diet and thyroid pills to help my ovaries. Don't ask.

My mom should be at the airport by now. A shuttle was supposed to pick her up at my apartment a little over an hour ago.

She didn't come under happy circumstances, unfortunately. My grandmother (her mom) had a massive stroke on the morning of March 18. Mom came the next day with my sister and my nephews. Grandma died early in the morning on the 20th. My sister and the boys stayed with John and I until they left with my Dad (who arrived on the 22nd) on Monday, the 26th. Mom decided to stay longer, with us. It's been sort of a whirlwind. Little boys here for a week, then gone, but it felt so short. Mom here for a week, when the brakes had been put on...

I can hear Gerald McRaney in the next room, having coffee, his distinctive voice cutting through the Ella Fitzgerald that I'm enjoying so much. Something about working at Universal, blah blah, Hollywood.

I'm missing my mother already, Major Dad. My grandmother is gone, Dash Goff.

I want a freakin' cookie!

I've been evil to John. He's doing the diet, too. We took Mom to a movie on Saturday--Meet the Robinsons at the El Capitan. Oh, and we had reserved seats...that come with popcorn...that we can't eat. I think John could live solely on popcorn and be satisfied. So, on Saturday afternoon, after we took Mom to Universal, John asked me, "We're really not going to eat our popcorn?" I said, "I didn't have chocolate pie when my grandmother died. No, you can't have popcorn." It was spiteful, but ultimately true.

John is sweet, Mr. Simon. I think you'd like him.

Labels: food.

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I just finished my yummy lunch from Village Gourmet and researched the Dell recall. My lovely little laptop is safe, since the Inspiron 5150 isn't listed as one of the "exploding battery" notebooks.

I had an idea that I might go out and look around at a craft store this afternoon...but the nosy neighbors I can't stand are camped out at the pool and I'd really rather not walk past them. I wonder if I could sneak out the bedroom window...

This weekend, John, Anna, Adam, and I attended a mini craft fair called Felt Club in the back parking lot of Meltdown Comics, which included free classes. Sweet! Anna and I took a class on spinning yarn and John joined us for a class on needle felting, which were both taught by the lovely folks at Mary Jane's Attic. The three of us also took a class on making charms out of shrinky dinks, which was taught by Sylvia of Chebang.

My favorite booth was Handmade Pretties, where I bought a really cute felt brooch from Lara. Runners up included: Sewing Stars, where I had to stop myself from buying a blue monkey; Cake Mountain, which had cool bags made out of upholstery fabrics; and Ohma, who had adorable vintage designs.

I'm full of the crafting spirit! I wanna buy felt! Plus, it sounds like the kids in the pool were fighting and the neighbors I can't stand, 2 women whose kids apparently fight with each other, have yelled at them all to get out of the pool. Maybe I can just walk out the front door. Is that too easy?


my mess o' homespun yarn

Labels: food., sewing/crafting.

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Today I baked my very first loaf of bread. I'm sending you a picture of it because I was so excited at the way it turned out. I opened the oven door and as the heat rushed out into my face, I saw how the top had cracked, you know, just like real bread. I actually said, outloud, "It's beautiful." Usually, the first time I bake something in this oven it turns out being one third fine, one third burned, and the rest all soggy and gross. I learn by trial and error. I'm so excited!

Wish you were here to eat some!

Love, Laura



Sometimes, when I do something new and intimidating, I wish I was still in Girl Scouts. There's something really satisfying about walking around with a big sash that says, Yes, I can... Only, I can't actually think of a single thing I did to earn a badge. I sort of remember my sister earning one because she could swim.

I wonder if they'd give me one for just not drowning. I mean, if you know how what challenge is there? Every minute I'm in a pool, it's a fight for life. Amy could fall in sideways, hit her head on the way in, and still come out without flailing her arms around and gasping for breath. All I have to do is walk down the steps and I've got water up my nose and hair in my mouth.

Anyway, I wish I could earn life badges or something. Move to a new state, earn a badge. Get a new job, earn a badge. Bake banana bread from scratch that tastes just like your mom's, earn the biggest badge ever and sew it to your favorite shirt and wear it to work and make everyone jealous! Instead, the closest you can get is to take some of the bread with you to work, which means you don't get to eat as much, and then say something like, "Oh, please, eat it, my husband and I just can't finish it!" Why do people say that? Why bake a cake (or anything else) you don't actually plan to eat? Baking is hard. If I'm going to go to all the trouble to bake something, I'm going to eat as much as possible without making myself sick or robbing John of his half. (Yes, he gets half. He's smart. He married a woman who bakes. He deserves brownies.)

Of course, the truth is that making banana bread, even though it is delicious, means admitting that you're not good at keeping up with the produce you buy. Banana bread calls for bananas that are "very ripe." Like, so ripe you probably wouldn't think to eat them unless you were going to mash them up and mix them with flour and sugar and then cook them. Basically, so ripe they could be yeast. How did I let those bananas get that way, anyway? I had such good intentions of healthy lunches and potassium levels. Instead they got banana bread ripe on top of my microwave and nearly fell off every time I opened the cabinet door and hit them, while getting something down that I really would eat. They sat there like little blackening pariahs, watching me eat granola bars, until I felt so guilty I had to go out and buy half a dozen eggs, four of which I'll probably never use.

Labels: childhood., family., food.

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