I loaned my camera to my mother for her trip to Israel. After borrowing her camera, I realized that her need for a speedy shutter was far greater than mine. Therefore, I'll try to keep my posts short and sweet, since there will be precious few photos to accompany them. You're welcome.
Blake's been asking to get his John Deere toys out of the garage for a while now. After telling the grandpa who had given them to him that "Mom threw them away," or "Mom gave them to the church nursery," I told him in no uncertain terms that I'd done no such thing. We'd chosen to box them up and put them in the garage to clear the house and make it look uncluttered for selling (Side note: we needn't have bothered. No one wants the condo. YET.).
"Please stop telling people I've thrown things away. It's unkind to those who have given you toys, and it's usually NOT TRUE."
We got the box of new-again toys, and he's been mowing down the corn and wheat in our carpet ever since. To make room, all of us sifted through Blake's two main toy repositories today. I required him to decide what went where (no more blaming me!), and if he opted for garbage, HE walked it and tossed it. Brilliant! Ridiculous quantities of cheap, made-in-China plastic have been culled from our home. Fabulous!
But upon opening the toy box in his room, I discovered where Transformers go to die. There were body parts everywhere... it was gruesome. We replaced all the sadness with weaponry that all fits now that it's not a boneyard. We've got a box of toys headed to the garage and another headed to the garbage. I hope I don't get mixed up about what goes where.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
the goings on
Just going through the old camera. Not much happening these days, except that there's a lot, it's just kind of dull. Case in point: today I broke up a 4-inch thick slab of ice that covered part of our sidewalk (~15 feet long). Yeah, I'm kind of a big deal, and now my shoulders and hands hurt. At least my rear won't hurt from falling repeatedly on the very slippery sidewalk!
My job is going through a season of growth after an extended period of not-growth, and it's fun and challenging. I'm training an intern (probably only get him until the end of May, but it's nice to have a break from all the words I have to read - now I should pick up something I want to read!), and I'm training a subcontractor. The long-term goal is to free up some of my time, but it's taking an awful lot of time just to get them up to speed.
Rob's job is kicking both of our butts, so much so that his boss - a good man who loves the Lord and "gets it" - has offered him a possible transfer to another store. It would be a better position, better hours and pay, in a more affordable location. There's another possibility out there that I can't really talk about, but after this time of just sucking it up and feeling like we are stuck, we may have options! It's exciting, but also a little scary. I would have a lot of tears to cry if we decided to move away from Bozeman.
Blake's in the trudging middle ground at school. The end isn't quite in sight, so it's very difficult for him to want to go. And it's only KINDERGARTEN, for crying out loud! He's anxiously awaiting the day he gets to go spend two whole weeks with Grammie Gee while we're in Hawaii. We've made it past Christmas and birthdays, written nearly all the thank you notes, and all of us are anticipating that really exciting event. He's bummed he cannot come with us, but Grammie Gee and Grampa Kent are a pretty reasonable alternative!
A raptor of some sort, probably preying on the birds attracted to my feeder. Catherine, what says Sam? I packed up my bird book and am too lazy to look it up online.
This is what it looks like when B helps me bake cookies. He's gazing at a LEGO catalog. He treats them like magazines, and knows which products are in which catalogs, and is not happy with me when I throw away one of his collection.
How we mop around here these days. The only problem is when guests come over, do not listen to my warning about their wool socks (SmartWool is a prerequisite for living in Bozeman), and nearly kill themselves. Then it's time to strategically rearrange the throw rugs for their protection.
I tried to round up all the stuff so B could practice skiing, but had forgotten that while we have skis and bindings, we had no boots for him yet (that's been fixed - thanks Poppa & Nonna!). Instead, I found the snowshoes I had purchased back when he was two and far too tiny for them. They finally fit! Though bummed about the non-skiing (and look at that bad-ass face!)...
... he was REALLY excited about the snowshoes! They leave a paw print within the outline of the frame, and he just loves tramping all over our small yard, then examining his tracks for the paws.
Finally, this is what a five-year-old with four sets of indulgent grandparents and many loving aunties and uncles can buy for his sixth birthday after a diligent year of saving (click to enlarge it and see his face). He knew it was coming, but was still absolutely quivering with excitement when it arrived. There were four large boxes within, and the first three have been opened and assembled. One more to go before it's complete and then we have a lively debate about where it goes and what we're going to do with it.
I'm really looking forward to that part, and because sarcasm doesn't always work in print, I will flesh it out for you: NO, I AM NOT.
My job is going through a season of growth after an extended period of not-growth, and it's fun and challenging. I'm training an intern (probably only get him until the end of May, but it's nice to have a break from all the words I have to read - now I should pick up something I want to read!), and I'm training a subcontractor. The long-term goal is to free up some of my time, but it's taking an awful lot of time just to get them up to speed.
Rob's job is kicking both of our butts, so much so that his boss - a good man who loves the Lord and "gets it" - has offered him a possible transfer to another store. It would be a better position, better hours and pay, in a more affordable location. There's another possibility out there that I can't really talk about, but after this time of just sucking it up and feeling like we are stuck, we may have options! It's exciting, but also a little scary. I would have a lot of tears to cry if we decided to move away from Bozeman.
Blake's in the trudging middle ground at school. The end isn't quite in sight, so it's very difficult for him to want to go. And it's only KINDERGARTEN, for crying out loud! He's anxiously awaiting the day he gets to go spend two whole weeks with Grammie Gee while we're in Hawaii. We've made it past Christmas and birthdays, written nearly all the thank you notes, and all of us are anticipating that really exciting event. He's bummed he cannot come with us, but Grammie Gee and Grampa Kent are a pretty reasonable alternative!
A raptor of some sort, probably preying on the birds attracted to my feeder. Catherine, what says Sam? I packed up my bird book and am too lazy to look it up online.
This is what it looks like when B helps me bake cookies. He's gazing at a LEGO catalog. He treats them like magazines, and knows which products are in which catalogs, and is not happy with me when I throw away one of his collection.
How we mop around here these days. The only problem is when guests come over, do not listen to my warning about their wool socks (SmartWool is a prerequisite for living in Bozeman), and nearly kill themselves. Then it's time to strategically rearrange the throw rugs for their protection.
I tried to round up all the stuff so B could practice skiing, but had forgotten that while we have skis and bindings, we had no boots for him yet (that's been fixed - thanks Poppa & Nonna!). Instead, I found the snowshoes I had purchased back when he was two and far too tiny for them. They finally fit! Though bummed about the non-skiing (and look at that bad-ass face!)...
... he was REALLY excited about the snowshoes! They leave a paw print within the outline of the frame, and he just loves tramping all over our small yard, then examining his tracks for the paws.
Finally, this is what a five-year-old with four sets of indulgent grandparents and many loving aunties and uncles can buy for his sixth birthday after a diligent year of saving (click to enlarge it and see his face). He knew it was coming, but was still absolutely quivering with excitement when it arrived. There were four large boxes within, and the first three have been opened and assembled. One more to go before it's complete and then we have a lively debate about where it goes and what we're going to do with it.I'm really looking forward to that part, and because sarcasm doesn't always work in print, I will flesh it out for you: NO, I AM NOT.
Friday, February 25, 2011
good time girls
S: Did you get some?
J: I did.
C: ... on the kitchen table.
*****
C: I was exposed to Adele for the first time today!
A: Ready for the second time?
*****
H: I can't wear it out of the house. It's a maternity shirt that says, "Who's your daddy?"
*****
C: $5 at Walmart!
A: How much did they charge to sell your soul?
C: A lot. I felt like a worse person when I walked in.
*****
A: Sometimes the blowing can get bad...
...
J: Write it DOWN!
*****
S: You've got a problem with that?
N: With asses on her breasts? Yes.
*****
S: Honey, you've got plenty to wiggle.
*****
S: I've never had trouble with the cleavage thing.
*****
C: Tuck it in her cleavage. She likes that.
*****
J: That was fast!
A: That's what she said.
*****
C: Wow, that's big.
A: Yeah, that's what she said too.
*****
M: Patience is a virtue.
A: It is.
M: It's just not YOUR virtue.
*****
J: So your sister will be sad if you move away.
A: EVERYONE will be sad if I move!
*****
A: That's the most narcissistic thing I've said tonight.
*****
S: I'm just showing my bra.
N: AGAIN?!
*****
C: Every time I sit on this bench, I have to clench my butt. And then I get taller!
*****
A: B's been doing that lately.
J: Lip synching?
*****
C: I always get up and pee when (????)
A: (writing furiously) What did she say?
J: I have no idea, but I'm not sure I want to know.
*****
A: I'm going to start blowing on your dice.
*****
J: What is it with getting dumb after having a baby? I am like, STUPID!
A: You lost your brain after labor and delivery because you pushed it out your hoohah. I just write everything down, which doesn't help when I can't remember where I put my list.
*****
A: You didn't ask for it, so I'm just going to DO IT TO YOU.
*****
A: I'll play with dummy H.
*****
F: The donkey'll do it!
*****
M: SIX TIMES A DAY?! Wow.
*****
A: Yes?
S: I'm just touching you.
*****
C: It's a good size.
S: YOU'RE a good size.
*****
S: Oh please. I have no time... no room for "decorative."
E: Just you.
*****
A: I just like self-indulgent navel-gazing.
F: So are you pregnant?
A: WHAT?! NO!
*****
J: Why are you writing everything down?
A: ... Uh, no reason...
J: I did.
C: ... on the kitchen table.
*****
C: I was exposed to Adele for the first time today!
A: Ready for the second time?
*****
H: I can't wear it out of the house. It's a maternity shirt that says, "Who's your daddy?"
*****
C: $5 at Walmart!
A: How much did they charge to sell your soul?
C: A lot. I felt like a worse person when I walked in.
*****
A: Sometimes the blowing can get bad...
...
J: Write it DOWN!
*****
S: You've got a problem with that?
N: With asses on her breasts? Yes.
*****
S: Honey, you've got plenty to wiggle.
*****
S: I've never had trouble with the cleavage thing.
*****
C: Tuck it in her cleavage. She likes that.
*****
J: That was fast!
A: That's what she said.
*****
C: Wow, that's big.
A: Yeah, that's what she said too.
*****
M: Patience is a virtue.
A: It is.
M: It's just not YOUR virtue.
*****
J: So your sister will be sad if you move away.
A: EVERYONE will be sad if I move!
*****
A: That's the most narcissistic thing I've said tonight.
*****
S: I'm just showing my bra.
N: AGAIN?!
*****
C: Every time I sit on this bench, I have to clench my butt. And then I get taller!
*****
A: B's been doing that lately.
J: Lip synching?
*****
C: I always get up and pee when (????)
A: (writing furiously) What did she say?
J: I have no idea, but I'm not sure I want to know.
*****
A: I'm going to start blowing on your dice.
*****
J: What is it with getting dumb after having a baby? I am like, STUPID!
A: You lost your brain after labor and delivery because you pushed it out your hoohah. I just write everything down, which doesn't help when I can't remember where I put my list.
*****
A: You didn't ask for it, so I'm just going to DO IT TO YOU.
*****
A: I'll play with dummy H.
*****
F: The donkey'll do it!
*****
M: SIX TIMES A DAY?! Wow.
*****
A: Yes?
S: I'm just touching you.
*****
C: It's a good size.
S: YOU'RE a good size.
*****
S: Oh please. I have no time... no room for "decorative."
E: Just you.
*****
A: I just like self-indulgent navel-gazing.
F: So are you pregnant?
A: WHAT?! NO!
*****
J: Why are you writing everything down?
A: ... Uh, no reason...
Thursday, February 24, 2011
update on the weepy warbler
I have gotten nothing but encouragement and affirmation for my habit of crying during worship. It's taken me rather by surprise (and most of the stuff that really drove it home wasn't even in the comments - it was directly from people directly affected by my singing). One woman stopped me after church to tell me how much she loved it when I sing. I barely know her, and she was wreathed in gladness and smiles and a hug. Another didn't tell me directly, but told a mutual friend. The first thing out of her mouth after they greeted one another after the service was "I love it when Addie cries during worship. It's so real and helps me be real too."
And then others have said they do not notice. Also, the news that singing makes me terribly nervous and/or anxious? It totally flabbergasts them.
I think it's the secret of resting the mic on my chin. They cannot see it wobble.
What I've taken from this is that I need to keep singing. There will be no off-limits songs, since that's no guarantee I won't turn on the waterworks. I'll be brave and vulnerable and just take what comes when it comes. I will probably also bring Kleenex just in case, so I don't have to wipe myself off on my sleeves.
My next battle will be my vanity. If I'm going to cry, by gosh, I would like to know how to do so prettily, without my nose turning red and shiny and my mouth and chin contorting into new and fascinating shapes.
I will start singing with a paper bag over my head. That'll fix it. Much less distracting!
And then others have said they do not notice. Also, the news that singing makes me terribly nervous and/or anxious? It totally flabbergasts them.
I think it's the secret of resting the mic on my chin. They cannot see it wobble.
What I've taken from this is that I need to keep singing. There will be no off-limits songs, since that's no guarantee I won't turn on the waterworks. I'll be brave and vulnerable and just take what comes when it comes. I will probably also bring Kleenex just in case, so I don't have to wipe myself off on my sleeves.
My next battle will be my vanity. If I'm going to cry, by gosh, I would like to know how to do so prettily, without my nose turning red and shiny and my mouth and chin contorting into new and fascinating shapes.
I will start singing with a paper bag over my head. That'll fix it. Much less distracting!
Sunday, February 20, 2011
but not today
I sing in front of the whole congregation a few times a month, as part of helping lead worship. I grew up singing - have had songs in my heart for earlier than I can remember and have the audio recordings to prove it - but did most of my formal singing in a choir. I loved singing in a group and rarely ever tried for solos. I get nervous when attempting to perform like that alone. Public speaking? No problem. I love me some attention.
Public singing? I'll get so nervous that it literally will not happen. At all. Nothing will come out, no matter how hard I try.
For years now, every time I get in front of the congregation (it doesn't help that in my head, I refer to it as an "audience"), I tremble. My heart pounds painfully, and I'm always afraid that my voice will disappear into one tremulous, pathetic squeak. I can only look at the music, never into the faces of friends, and I rest my microphone on my chin to keep it from visibly shaking. I have taken to praying fervently on mornings I'm doing worship: Lord, may my voice bring honor to your name. May it be about YOUR glory, and not my own. May I neither distract nor detract due to nerves or pride. May my worship be in spirit and in truth.
God's been faithful, and my voice is getting stronger in this vulnerable position (one man, one woman, some instrumental back-up). However, there are still land mines, like deeply meaningful songs. Really, I never know what's going to set me off in quiet tears while I mouth the words, but the songs I chose for big Blake's funeral are pretty much guarantees.
If I had only used songs I hated for that service, I would not be in this predicament!
For the most part, I can now sing Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus and remain composed. However, I learned today that just because I'm okay in rehearsal does not mean I won't bawl my eyes out during the service when we sing Jesus, What a Friend for Sinners. And it's not really embarrassing - I can cry publicly like I can speak publicly, I just look a lot blotchier - but it's distracting. Rather than people in a worshipful frame of mind of "How great Thou art!," I imagine them thinking "What's wrong with her?"
When I asked the man who chooses the songs what he thought about me having a "no-sing" list to ensure that I wouldn't cry, he remarked on two things. First, he really appreciated seeing my open and honest emotional struggle. As a divorced man, he was moved by the profundity of the words and how they had moved me... which then moved him to tears. He also appreciated my courage in just staying up there, crying and mouthing the words. He didn't find it distracting in the least, and he understood why I wept (as in, there was nothing new wrong with me). Second, he asked if those were the only two songs I would definitely cry at. And... they aren't. There are others - some from our wedding, some that speak to loss and the profundity of suffering and Christ's redemption and the joyous glory of Heaven - that can bring me down.
As one friend put it, "Well, maybe there's comfort in the fact that you take me down with you when I see you." Yep, so comforting. At least she doesn't mind, but she's also not in front of everyone else with every sniffle magnified by a mic.
Because I don't just dissolve into a teary puddle every time I help with worship, I'm reluctant to have a few off limits songs. I love these songs passionately. I want to be able to sing them with a glad heart and no throat-constricting tears.
And maybe one day, I will.
Public singing? I'll get so nervous that it literally will not happen. At all. Nothing will come out, no matter how hard I try.
For years now, every time I get in front of the congregation (it doesn't help that in my head, I refer to it as an "audience"), I tremble. My heart pounds painfully, and I'm always afraid that my voice will disappear into one tremulous, pathetic squeak. I can only look at the music, never into the faces of friends, and I rest my microphone on my chin to keep it from visibly shaking. I have taken to praying fervently on mornings I'm doing worship: Lord, may my voice bring honor to your name. May it be about YOUR glory, and not my own. May I neither distract nor detract due to nerves or pride. May my worship be in spirit and in truth.
God's been faithful, and my voice is getting stronger in this vulnerable position (one man, one woman, some instrumental back-up). However, there are still land mines, like deeply meaningful songs. Really, I never know what's going to set me off in quiet tears while I mouth the words, but the songs I chose for big Blake's funeral are pretty much guarantees.
If I had only used songs I hated for that service, I would not be in this predicament!
For the most part, I can now sing Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus and remain composed. However, I learned today that just because I'm okay in rehearsal does not mean I won't bawl my eyes out during the service when we sing Jesus, What a Friend for Sinners. And it's not really embarrassing - I can cry publicly like I can speak publicly, I just look a lot blotchier - but it's distracting. Rather than people in a worshipful frame of mind of "How great Thou art!," I imagine them thinking "What's wrong with her?"
When I asked the man who chooses the songs what he thought about me having a "no-sing" list to ensure that I wouldn't cry, he remarked on two things. First, he really appreciated seeing my open and honest emotional struggle. As a divorced man, he was moved by the profundity of the words and how they had moved me... which then moved him to tears. He also appreciated my courage in just staying up there, crying and mouthing the words. He didn't find it distracting in the least, and he understood why I wept (as in, there was nothing new wrong with me). Second, he asked if those were the only two songs I would definitely cry at. And... they aren't. There are others - some from our wedding, some that speak to loss and the profundity of suffering and Christ's redemption and the joyous glory of Heaven - that can bring me down.
As one friend put it, "Well, maybe there's comfort in the fact that you take me down with you when I see you." Yep, so comforting. At least she doesn't mind, but she's also not in front of everyone else with every sniffle magnified by a mic.
Because I don't just dissolve into a teary puddle every time I help with worship, I'm reluctant to have a few off limits songs. I love these songs passionately. I want to be able to sing them with a glad heart and no throat-constricting tears.
And maybe one day, I will.
Friday, February 18, 2011
from wolf to woof
My folks recently spent some time in Bozeman so Reese and Matt could spend some childless time away from Bozeman. Fun was had by all, but I think anyone who spends any significant time with the twins comes away respecting Reese more. She spends all day EVERY day with them, and they are at a particularly challenging age (as in, they are not yet 30 and married).
Sawyer is a darling little biscuit who is only JUST getting comfortable with me. Used to be he'd take one look at my smiling face, scrunch his forehead in concern, and turn away saying "NO!" while looking for his momma. He is also not yet 30 and married.
I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH IT HURTS ME! And Blake and I got to hang out with everyone too. It was great fun. We went to the museum for two whole hours.
He tried to make a clean escape but was thwarted by... well... everything. At this point, he was whining a little bit and in distress, but we made sure not to rescue him until I had a picture. Just like good aunties and grammies do.
Experiencing what it is like to be found by a search and rescue dog. Also experiencing what it is like to be a prairie dog, peeking out of the burrow.
Really don't know what to say about this one, except the thing on Sawyer's face is supposed to be held to your ear, not used as a gas mask.
Sawyer is a darling little biscuit who is only JUST getting comfortable with me. Used to be he'd take one look at my smiling face, scrunch his forehead in concern, and turn away saying "NO!" while looking for his momma. He is also not yet 30 and married.
I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH IT HURTS ME! And Blake and I got to hang out with everyone too. It was great fun. We went to the museum for two whole hours.
He tried to make a clean escape but was thwarted by... well... everything. At this point, he was whining a little bit and in distress, but we made sure not to rescue him until I had a picture. Just like good aunties and grammies do.
Experiencing what it is like to be found by a search and rescue dog. Also experiencing what it is like to be a prairie dog, peeking out of the burrow.
Really don't know what to say about this one, except the thing on Sawyer's face is supposed to be held to your ear, not used as a gas mask.Friday, February 11, 2011
a very full week
Sorry Mom and others. This week was just crazy in many ways (covering a trade show in Munich, for one thing, that meant I published four extra articles, all after 10:00 PM). Here are the rest of the birthday photos, as promised. There are LOTS!
Rough Start
The twins had been prewarned about Darth Vader's planned appearance at the party, and when they arrived, they were very reluctant to actually come inside. However, they warmed up quickly.
Tjabe, a friend who was uninitiated in the way of Star Wars, heard the invitation read aloud by his mother, thought "Why would I want to waste a Saturday in some sort of strange class at Addie's?" and originally opted out. His mother focused on the pinata, the cupcakes, the FUN of a party. He came, timidly, but also warmed up.
Blake took one look at Tjabe backing Mason into the corner and ran over: "Guys, be VERY careful near these. They are my dad's new speakers." Terra and I about died.
Did I mention I was Leia? Do you know how many strange looks you get in the grocery store when you walk around with Leia hair? At least... I HOPE it was the Leia hair...
Apparently, these are fancy Jedi moves. Blake, Tjabe, Gunnar.
Terra came with the Schuyler boys, and I could NOT have done this without her. Well, without her, the number of guests would have been cut in half, so maybe I could have, but I wouldn't have WANTED to!
Yoda sodas: lime sherbet and Sprite. I wouldn't let them take the cups down until we had a table set up for them, so the boys ponied up to the bendy straws for refreshment. Mason, Smith, Blake (I think he's going to be quite tall).
You're not supposed to FIGHT Leia, you're supposed to SAVE her! I love Smith's face in this one.
Terrible backlighting, but Darth was a big hit. Once they realized he wasn't invincible...
... a veritable forest of light sabers came at him.
Sawyer, enjoying his galactic pizza out of the fray, was wondering what the hell was going on over there.
He is still not willing to take his eyes off the guy in the mask. Men in masks cannot be trusted.
The party crew!
Time to destroy the Death Star...
... with burning, focused intensity...
... and unfortunately glancing blows. After the boys each had a few good swings, Leia struck the death knell because she was freezing.
Crossed light sabers via cupcake! Silver sprinkles and M&Ms made up the handles.
Cutest photobomb ever?
We capped the party by watching an episode of Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Terra and I agreed that our view of the couch was better entertainment than whatever was on the TV.
The young padawans.
Finally, the Perrines stopped by for a surprise birthday visit! Maddox was adorable in the Darth Vader mask, and Bing is a very good sport about being massacred by light saber and the Force.
Rob's birthday was on Tuesday, and I surprised him by having Blake in bed by the time he got home (not hard - he arrives at 7:30, which is usually the bedtime goal). I surprised him further by having a smorgasboard of our favorite sushi arrayed on the table. I surprised him even FURTHER by having moberry yogurt in the freezer. Yay! No party, low-key evening, just like he wanted. While I cannot yet make Nonna Joyce's amazing Chinese food spread (seriously, it's amazing - and usually Rob's birthday meal of choice), I order up take-out sushi like a PRO.
Rough Start
The twins had been prewarned about Darth Vader's planned appearance at the party, and when they arrived, they were very reluctant to actually come inside. However, they warmed up quickly.
Tjabe, a friend who was uninitiated in the way of Star Wars, heard the invitation read aloud by his mother, thought "Why would I want to waste a Saturday in some sort of strange class at Addie's?" and originally opted out. His mother focused on the pinata, the cupcakes, the FUN of a party. He came, timidly, but also warmed up.
Blake took one look at Tjabe backing Mason into the corner and ran over: "Guys, be VERY careful near these. They are my dad's new speakers." Terra and I about died.
Did I mention I was Leia? Do you know how many strange looks you get in the grocery store when you walk around with Leia hair? At least... I HOPE it was the Leia hair...
Apparently, these are fancy Jedi moves. Blake, Tjabe, Gunnar.
Terra came with the Schuyler boys, and I could NOT have done this without her. Well, without her, the number of guests would have been cut in half, so maybe I could have, but I wouldn't have WANTED to!
Yoda sodas: lime sherbet and Sprite. I wouldn't let them take the cups down until we had a table set up for them, so the boys ponied up to the bendy straws for refreshment. Mason, Smith, Blake (I think he's going to be quite tall).
You're not supposed to FIGHT Leia, you're supposed to SAVE her! I love Smith's face in this one.
Terrible backlighting, but Darth was a big hit. Once they realized he wasn't invincible...
... a veritable forest of light sabers came at him.
Sawyer, enjoying his galactic pizza out of the fray, was wondering what the hell was going on over there.
He is still not willing to take his eyes off the guy in the mask. Men in masks cannot be trusted.
The party crew!
Time to destroy the Death Star...
... with burning, focused intensity...
... and unfortunately glancing blows. After the boys each had a few good swings, Leia struck the death knell because she was freezing.
Crossed light sabers via cupcake! Silver sprinkles and M&Ms made up the handles.
Cutest photobomb ever?
We capped the party by watching an episode of Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Terra and I agreed that our view of the couch was better entertainment than whatever was on the TV.
The young padawans.
Finally, the Perrines stopped by for a surprise birthday visit! Maddox was adorable in the Darth Vader mask, and Bing is a very good sport about being massacred by light saber and the Force.Rob's birthday was on Tuesday, and I surprised him by having Blake in bed by the time he got home (not hard - he arrives at 7:30, which is usually the bedtime goal). I surprised him further by having a smorgasboard of our favorite sushi arrayed on the table. I surprised him even FURTHER by having moberry yogurt in the freezer. Yay! No party, low-key evening, just like he wanted. While I cannot yet make Nonna Joyce's amazing Chinese food spread (seriously, it's amazing - and usually Rob's birthday meal of choice), I order up take-out sushi like a PRO.
Monday, February 7, 2011
i have a confession to make
I've not always been such a big Star Wars fan. I was pondering this while folding five Star Wars shirts (size 5) this morning. I've always liked it, and I figured B would like it, but having Rob around has put things into, well, hyperdrive. He owns far more books than there are movies and was really excited to learn that one of the women who attends our church authored a few of them - from when Han and Leia had kids. And for no other reason than for funsies, I've humored both of them in many many things.
I then set about to making the thematic elements.
Rather than actually sewing, I bought XXL brown shirts and cut a wide strip from the front center. The strip became the belt for the Jedi robe.
A soccer ball pinata (thanks Mom and Laurie!), when spray painted silver and adorned with strips of black tape, became the Death Star.
And rather than buying a spare $8 light saber, I used about $8 worth of Sharpies on this masterpiece.
Cake was strategically colored cupcakes in a light saber configuration.
Finally, as you can sort of tell from the clues, we were all in costume. I was Leia, Terra (not pictured but incredibly invaluable on party day) was "helpful friend #1," and Rob even made an appearance during his very brief lunch break:
The staff of our own little rebel base.
More photos and stories of the fun day to come. But now, hot cocoa and maybe a crossword puzzle for me. Recovering from a birthday party takes as long for this old lady as preparing for it!
- Remember when we walked down the aisle? Star Wars theme.
- That first night Rob and I really got to talk about our future together? Not until after we'd all watched The Empire Strikes Back.
- Blake even got a Storm Trooper gun as a wedding gift.
Invited You Are…
on a galactic adventure with Blake!
On Saturday, February 5th, you can take part in your
Jedi Training.
Your mission will be to rescue and protect Princess Leia,
as she has been taken prisoner by Darth Vader.
After Galactic Pizza and Yoda Sodas, we’ll be
fighting to destroy Darth Vader and the Death Star,
using your Jedi force powers.
Please bring your Jedi lightsaber to aid you
in your mission. You will be awarded with your
official Jedi robe upon arrival, in order to
assist you in your Jedi Training.
May the force be with you!
Training begins at 11:00 am, in a galaxy as close as the Bedford home.
Please have your Jedi Master (a parent) confirm enrollment via Addie!
I then set about to making the thematic elements.
Rather than actually sewing, I bought XXL brown shirts and cut a wide strip from the front center. The strip became the belt for the Jedi robe.
A soccer ball pinata (thanks Mom and Laurie!), when spray painted silver and adorned with strips of black tape, became the Death Star.
And rather than buying a spare $8 light saber, I used about $8 worth of Sharpies on this masterpiece.
Cake was strategically colored cupcakes in a light saber configuration.Finally, as you can sort of tell from the clues, we were all in costume. I was Leia, Terra (not pictured but incredibly invaluable on party day) was "helpful friend #1," and Rob even made an appearance during his very brief lunch break:
"Death of Darth" from RBedford Productions on Vimeo.
The staff of our own little rebel base.More photos and stories of the fun day to come. But now, hot cocoa and maybe a crossword puzzle for me. Recovering from a birthday party takes as long for this old lady as preparing for it!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
food on a stick!
Another winner tonight (on a whim - had the ingredients and wasn't sure what else to make while watching the Super Bowl commercials): Indonesian Beef Satay with Peanut Sauce. YUM. Even Blake like it, though only after informing me "I didn't think it would taste very good, but it does!"
Thanks for the vote of confidence.
The sauce is probably the most versatile. I've never really cared for peanut sauce, because all I can think of is "Why did they ruin this good sauce with peanut butter? Peanut butter only really belongs in sandwiches!" It's totally distracting. THIS, however, would be equally tasty mixed with hot noodles and chicken, or used as a dip for fresh cuke slices, or as a dip for almost anything. The only change I would make in the future (if B weren't eating it) would be to add more curry paste or some crushed red pepper for more heat.
Beef Satay
Whisk the lime juice, soy sauce, fish sauce, brown sugar, garlic, curry powder, and crushed red pepper in a medium bowl. Add the steak and toss gently. Cover and set aside at room temperature for 30 minutes.
Prepare your grill - medium-high. Lightly oil the grates.
Thread 1 piece of skirt steak, or 2 to 3 pieces of flank steak, onto the skewers, stretching each piece taut to maximize contact with the grill.
Grill the skewers until the steak is seared and just cooked through, about 2 minutes per side. Serve with peanut sauce. Serves 4.
Peanut Sauce
Stir in the peanut butter, hoisin sauce, brown sugar, and water. Bring the mixture to boil and simmer for 1 minute. Stir in the lime juice and let the sauce cool slightly. Serve warm or at room temperature. Makes 1 2/3 cups.
Thanks for the vote of confidence.
The sauce is probably the most versatile. I've never really cared for peanut sauce, because all I can think of is "Why did they ruin this good sauce with peanut butter? Peanut butter only really belongs in sandwiches!" It's totally distracting. THIS, however, would be equally tasty mixed with hot noodles and chicken, or used as a dip for fresh cuke slices, or as a dip for almost anything. The only change I would make in the future (if B weren't eating it) would be to add more curry paste or some crushed red pepper for more heat.
Beef Satay
- 1 pound skirt steak or flank steak, trimmed
- 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
- 2 tablespoons reduced-sodium soy sauce
- 1 tablespoon Asian fish sauce (I used just a touch less - Thai fish sauce, which is all I can find in Bozeman, is quite strong and I always taste it. In a bad way.)
- 2 teaspoons dark brown sugar (I only had light and it worked just fine)
- 2 garlic cloves, minced
- 1/2 teaspoon curry powder
- 1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper
- 16 bamboo skewers, soaked in water for 30 minutes
Whisk the lime juice, soy sauce, fish sauce, brown sugar, garlic, curry powder, and crushed red pepper in a medium bowl. Add the steak and toss gently. Cover and set aside at room temperature for 30 minutes.
Prepare your grill - medium-high. Lightly oil the grates.
Thread 1 piece of skirt steak, or 2 to 3 pieces of flank steak, onto the skewers, stretching each piece taut to maximize contact with the grill.
Grill the skewers until the steak is seared and just cooked through, about 2 minutes per side. Serve with peanut sauce. Serves 4.
Peanut Sauce
- 1 tablespoon canola oil
- 1/4 cup minced shallots
- 2 garlic cloves, minced
- 3/4 teaspoon Thai red curry paste
- 1/3 cup creamy peanut butter
- 2 tablespoons hoisin sauce
- 2 tablespoons dark brown sugar (see above about what I used)
- 2/3 cup water
- 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
Stir in the peanut butter, hoisin sauce, brown sugar, and water. Bring the mixture to boil and simmer for 1 minute. Stir in the lime juice and let the sauce cool slightly. Serve warm or at room temperature. Makes 1 2/3 cups.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
the force is strong with this one
Since a few people shared this with me yesterday, I'm sharing it here today. Apparently it's a Super Bowl ad that VW released early. To much acclaim.
And laughter.
And laughter.
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