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Coming early March 2015

 

Too good to pass up

It happened quite by accident this late Thursday evening, that I was caught in what I must consider, the ideal situation for coming back after my long melancholy blogger silence. If I hadn't been alone tonight and in my bed surrounded by pillows, with a plate of fresh banana bread, a computer, cell phone and a stack of fine books at my finger tips I never would have thought to peruse some pictures from awhile ago and in perusing laugh aloud, and in laughing aloud think that I must put said pictures where all pictures inevitably go: on the web. It also helped that my sister informed me that she had blogged and so I had to read it of course and while there I saw my poor neglected blog. Filled with a sense of inspiration I wrote the above words and now without apology or excuse I post this. Writing is to me therapy and I have been sadly without therapy for a little while now.

There are times in life when you must take yourself less seriously (these times are more frequent than many actually realize) and I know a group of people, nay, close relations, who are really good at this. God bless this crazy gang.

 It was on a cruise ship on a Wednesday morning that, not one or two strange eccentrics were noticed but upwards of fifteen.   Check out Jonni: that hair with that robe...girl!

 Got to see what Missy and Jimmy would look like in 60 years or so.

 ...And there are just no words for these beauties.

7 ways to get rid of drama

If there is one thing I have realized in my adult state of being is that I can go a long time without the need for drama.
 

Growing up as a Dunn there was always a shortage of drama so that I am so accustomed to the lack of it that I really don’t know what to do with people who have it in copious amounts.
 

This perhaps is another reason why I can’t seem to get my head around the concept of Face Book and other social networking platforms that seem to be a stage for the dramatic as well as all kinds of other uninteresting detail sharing. 

Pardon, I understand the concept, I just don’t understand the need.

But I digress, we each have our own things, our own inconsistency’s. I never thought I would like writing and reading blogs but I do. Perhaps I can’t do face book because secretly I fear I would be an addict.

Nah... that's not the reason but I confess to having a rather addictive personality. So long as I’m addicted to salad and literature I figure I can let that personality aspect mellow. On the other hand my chocolate addiction might need some curbing and my need for coffee has become just that, a need and not just a want. I have determined to give up coffee on several occasions just to put my habits under subjection but I keep putting it off. The headaches don’t help with the conviction.
 

...so back to drama.
 

I don’t like it. In the family we have a confront or let it go type of policy that I really like. Much of what isn’t necessary to confront gets let go of and trust me this makes for some serious personal growth.

The relationship between my siblings is a perfect example of strong friendship despite age differences, height disparity, personality diversity and a multitude of other variation that could potentially lead to dramatic flair ups, specially as five of the six siblings are women and we all know how women can get.
 

We laugh a lot, sometimes at each other, often at ourselves, maybe use some expletives in jest and call each other poopy pants on regular occasion.
 

But we try to be nice and nice people don't create drama for their friends... even though I do remember saying to my sister one time long ago: "I really don't like you right now"

to which she promptly responded "well I never liked you". It was so unlike us and so funny that we started laughing and managed to forget whatever it was we were fighting about.

Strange, it's true but not too much drama amongst us.

 

Seven ways to ditch drama:

• Listen. First rule of thumb. Dramatic people talk too much and listen too little. Don't perpetuate the drama that threatens to suck the life out of your friends. Listen.
  

  

• If you feel upset at someone, talk to that person (rationally and kindly please), not everyone else.
  

  

• Don’t engage in other people’s drama: leave, run away, bow out, plug your ears, grab them and waltz around the room, make funny faces, pretend like you're dead.

• Don’t take offense

• Do forgive and forget quickly
  

  

• Take responsibility for whatever is your fault, your problem, your issue, your glitch; knowing that you can’t fix the other persons personality drawbacks, why spend time complaining about them.
  

  

And finally…

• Let it go, let it go.

 

 

 

 

A hand to hold tonight



I wish.... to remember.

 

There were moments this week that made me glad to just sit and hold a hand, glad for my husband and his constancy, glad to hold my baby at five in the morning and stick my nose in his hair.

 

Life is weird. There are these moments of such incredible joy that they brings tears and then there are just tears; pain and tears. My words fall short tonight as on many nights when life is just plain overwhelming.

 

The best I can say is to be thankful for the moments you have. Even the imperfect ones when your son is crying in a public place at the top of his little lungs and people are looking at you, some with looks of compassion and some with looks of annoyance. Thankful for life and breath and love. Life isn't perfect but it is full of perfect moments, and these moments hold time and memory and forever within them.



 

 



Five reasons why I must teach Zumba

First I'd just like to say about this particular style of Zumba attire: Why?

Anywho...

When I started getting ready to teach my first zumba class after having Drake, I had the runs for three days. Really? How is that normal? Sorry you had to hear that, but that reality initiated my journey back to normalcy after hunkering down with my kids for a long while trying to adjust to the change from two to three little ones.

Having kids did something to me, inexplicable and strange yet so simple and matter of fact…they changed me, in soooo many ways. First they blew my mind, expanded my heart, grew my capacity in every way and then there’s the little issue of tweaked my body.

 I used to fit into a size 4, not every article of clothing but a few glorious ones that I've since had framed. (Ya right) .  Now I have sizes from 4 to 12 in my closet and I’m nervous about getting rid of the different sizes because if I am not finished child bearing yet I am likely to want those chubby clothes again (on the days where I can’t just stay in my husbands sweatshirt) and I haven’t entirely given up the hope of wearing some of my very slim clothes eventually. Do you see my plight?

 Anyway, as a mom I am always between two extremes. Extreme confidence and extreme self consciousness..I know, it seems a little oxy moronic. Having kids, I have this boost in confidence that is truly exhilarating, this purpose that is so great and consuming, objective  that is birds eye and pivotal, life intention and sacrifice beyond myself.

Then there’s the part where I don’t feel comfortable in clothes…any clothes. I mean, ya yoga pants and my husbands sweatshirts are pretty great but a girl is not supposed to live in those. I don’t want to be “that wife”. Pregnancy was no joke and for all those people who said, you can just bounce right back….well, they can bounce this. Your body is just different after that incredible and traumatizing experience. Mine was and is. So I have this reverse confidence problem, I think it's called a self esteem problem really, that makes me not want to go into public. Maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration but when I write in the heat of a momentary experience of self consciousness I tend to exaggerate. Tomorrow I will dress in my nice clothes, doll up my face a little, check myself out in the mirror and say "it's not so bad".

But the reality is, at home I am mom and I am amazing. I rule, they listen. I make jokes, they laugh. We dance and have picnics and they don’t mind my baggy sweatshirts, in fact I think they like that I wear daddy's sweaters.

 

 They love me and I love them. Out in the wide world I just don't always feel that amazing.

 

So why ever leave this lovely little bubble? Yes, I am in danger of never wanting to leave. I have been getting social stress,  indicated by anticipatory headaches and, I can barely say it, this weird lip rash that makes my lips peel (coconut oil really helps with it by the way);  extremely inconvenient and embarrassing. Sometimes my lips look freakishly red  and chapped, and not in some I was skiing all day and they are wind burned way. An abnormal way.  I don’t want to say clown but clown does come to mind

 

So that’s why I do it. There will always be a party or a wedding, or a family something off the mountain I have to attend and I can not afford to just totally break down with the anticipation of it. I know I have strangeness that even I can't justify but so it is and most days I just laugh about it. I don't mind seeing people through the star bucks drive thru window, or at the grocery store, I love church and woman's group. I’m comfortable being a mom, such endless challenges and opportunities for growth in that incredible role, and now that we live in the sticks I’m comfortable with dirt, and water and the mixture of the two that makes that very messy substance known as mud.

 I just want to spend time impressing the people who are so worth impressing, not those whose opinion doesn’t matter.

 However, a balance must be attained because life is still about people and people are out there where the lip fungus is.

So I must teach Zumba for these simple reasons:

1. Because I am in danger of becoming a hermit. 
2. Because: I get a much better cardio work out when I am teaching. I try to give 100% when I am just taking classes but I realize I do not because of the dramatic difference in wind sucking when I am the one leading the moves.
3. Because I have performance anxiety and that is just not like me.
4. Because It is a challenge.
5. Because if I quit I would be forgoing yet another opportunity to conquer fear.

 I must not succumb to social angst by quitting the thing that is providing me the opportunity to grow. It is the small way that I keep fighting against my own private disorder or whatever it should  be called.

If I suddenly quit Zumba and piano teaching, decline a family wedding, or refuse to teach at a marriage seminar than I hope one of my dear sisters will come get me, make me brush my hair and mingle somewhere with human adults but as long as I'm still rockin' the stage I'm still in the fight and I kindly ask people to please please don't look at my lips:)

 

five kid moments

I have learned that life holds just a plethora of moments we either disregard as ordinary because we're busy, stressed or impatient or we linger over, appreciating the humor, the unique qualities and the magic of those "ordinary" moments.

 My husband fell asleep last night as we were snuggled in bed to my ramblings of all the kid moments I had had during the day. It is a frequent habit with us, I chat away because it helps me unwind and he listens to my kid stories because it helps him relax. I like to retell the simple things because it gives them an extra adhesive consistency for my memory.

I know a time will come when I will find the absence of sticky substance on my clothes a little depressing because it will mean that no one is grabbing my legs with grubby hands and dirty faces, no one is pressing tear stained cheeks and booger noses into my neck and making it imperative that I wash a million loads of laundry a week. Bring on the kid moments, God help me soak them all in.

• Grabbed my electric toothbrush to start my nightly routine and as I bring the toothpaste towards it I see the unmistakable brown discoloration that is suspiciously similar to the remnants of cliff bar all over Mason’s face at lunch time. Brand new Oral B toothbrush head. That little stinker.
• While watching my sisters two kids today I had the good fortune to peer out the window and see my son Mason and his younger girl cousin with pants around their ankles in a standing posture that could only indicate the intent of peeing on a rock, two little bottoms across the yard. It didn't end up well for my niece's clothes and she was a little upset after she realized how very wet she was and had to get yet another life lesson on the difference between boys and girls but I sure had a good chuckle over it wishing I had been quick enough to snap a picture. It was just so cute.
• Leaving the gym after step class, my very affectionate son ran to give the gym owner a hug. She had on a rather colorful sports bra and he put both his hands on her chest and said “what’s these”. Man, kids are embarrassing.
• Hearing Mason in his room doing his little screeching whiny cry because his brother had hit him with an apple, I started laughing in the kitchen. Seeing my daughter there watching I said apologetically “I’m not laughing because he got hurt, just that he’s five and Drake is only fifteen months.” She said with a straight face “I’m not judging.” Then I really started laughing. Kids are so ridiculously cute.
• Running around the house in a flurry of activity, packing up the diaper bag with snacks, starting a load of laundry and putting away school books in an effort to come back from errands to a house not entirely devoid of order. As I went I smoothed my hair back unconsciously. My daughter, catching the motion, looked at me concernedly and said "your hair is messy a lot mom. You should try brushing it more often." No arguing that but wow!

If you ask me the world could use more "kid moments" on a regular basis.

If you read nothing else, read these five

 

I don't know if it's parenting or just getting older but I cry at the strangest things. Once I watched The Rescuers with Daph when she was little and when the orphan Penny was told by Madam Madussa that she was a homely little girl and no one would ever want her, I cried....a lot. Granted, I was pregnant and that says a great deal.

My daughter has gotten used to my tears since I have been reading to her for years. For school I read her a book on Abe Lincoln and of course when he got shot, I started getting the high pitched, slightly squeaky timbre to my voice and she looked at me with her astonished face that quickly turned to her compassionate face. Same with Helen Keller when she finally came to the immense realization that every thing she touched had a name and she could communicate and understand with those names; she ran to Mrs. Keller and asked Anne what her name was. When Anne signed "mother" in Helen's hand I simply could not keep reading; I had to take a minute to weep.
 

So just a couple months ago when I read Daphne a book about Amelia Earhart and I got to the last chapter where her husband read the letter she had left for him in the event that she did not make it back from her flight around the world Daphne already new the water works were coming and she laid a sympathetic hand on my shoulder.
 

The same occurs when I hear of people who don't love to read or maybe just don't read... it makes me feel like crying for them; seriously, I get a little pang in my insides just thinking of all they miss. I could not imagine my world without my book friends and the wealth of knowledge I have had the pleasure to explore with them.  Sufficed to say, it is not easy to bring my recommendations down to five but I understand that a list of 50 is not palatable to the general populace and perhaps a number so small as five could be an attainable goal for many.

Reading is at once a sedative and a stimulant, an enhanced reality and a glorious escape. If you have not read these titles procure yourself a copy via Barnes, Amazon, the library, a handy internet option called Thriftbooks.com, or a blessed yard sale for pete's sake.

• Dracula. A powerful and spiritually stirring book full of adventure and true heroism. As a teenager I was deterred by the seeming dark subject matter, I mean, the notorious blood sucker, the blood sucker that was responsible for inspiring blood sucking fiction everywhere; but then I read it and wondered why I didn’t read it sooner. A must read.
• Pride and prejudice. Obviously this is one of the best books of all time and if you haven’t read it you couldn’t possibly be told why with enough eloquence so I will spare my words and simply say: Read it!
  
• How to win friends and influence people. This is only relevant if you ever come in contact with others of the human race. If you have kids, have parents, go to the grocery store, have co-workers, eat out, talk on the phone or basically live in the world of people, this is an excellent human relations resource.
• Gaining favor with God and man. Written in the 1800’s this book was out of print for a long time before being picked up by a connoisseur of great old literature and reprinted. When young, my dad read us a short chapter every night or morning as an augmentation of our usual devotions. You just don’t find a book like this every day. Valuable insights and, what has sadly become, old fashioned principles. Look for it on Amazon.
• Happiness is a serious problem. I have read a mountain of self help books maybe because I went thru a period where I really needed some help or maybe I have just found the encouragement to self evaluate, found in books like those, helpful in every day life. Regardless of this, Dennis Praeger really boils it all down in an intelligent and well-expressed 170 pages.

 “All happy people are grateful. Ungrateful people cannot be happy. We tend to think that being unhappy leads people to complain, but it’s truer to say that complaining leads to people becoming unhappy.”
― Dennis Prager

 

 “These friends - and he laid his hand on some of the books - have been good friends to me, and for some years past, ever since I had the idea of going to London, have given me many, many hours of pleasure. Through them I have come to know your great England; and to know her is to love her. I long to go through the crowded streets of your mighty London, to be in the midst of the whirl and rush of humanity, to share its life, its change, its death, and all that makes it what it is.”
― Bram Stoker, Dracula

 

Hummus and these five veggies

Tuesday is Farmers Market day.

 

We waited for April all winter long and now we have been enjoying 4 weeks of fresh veggies and fruit, cage free eggs, and the best hummus you have ever had.

 The kids and I look forward to our morning adventure every Tuesday. It is the day you run into friends and acquaintances and people you haven’t seen since the start of last years winter months. Those you want to see and those you want to avoid, everyone makes their appearance. Gotta love a small town.

With three small children (relatively so) eating healthy is always on my mind and I am eager to hear and try new ways to get the kids consuming larger quantities of vegetables.

 

 My daughter has always been easy: I say “eat it”  and she says “okay”. My son is a different story altogether. I say eat it and he says “I not so hungry” when minutes earlier he was asking for food. He is easy to feed if I can circumvent his sensitive gag reflex.

I have gotten very creative with this. Visual distraction and a barrage of topics interesting to him are constantly utilized by my ever frenzied brain. It is kind of like a child who isn’t responding to his name being called but as soon as you yell “ice cream” he snaps his head toward you. I can always get Mason’s attention if I call out “Hey Buzz Lightyear”. Same as I can get him to eat avocado and other textury foods if I mix with yogurt or hummus and don’t let him smell it on the way in. The kid smells a banana from across the room and he is over gagging in the sink. It’s my cross to bear.

 

 

Often, because I teach Zumba most Tuesday nights, dinner in the evening looks like an assortment of delicious hummus, fresh tabouli and a heaping platter of cut up veggies. Kids love it (they also get pita). Husband loves it (he and I are not eating bread right now...not really his idea) and I feel really good eating it.

Try these five with hummus:

 

1. Carrots. Of course, you think hummus you think carrots or maybe pita and then carrots, either way , carrots are right up there with “go along with everything” vegetable. No surprise there.
2. Broccoli. I don’t know about you but broccoli has never been an eating raw favorite of mine, however, cut those florets into small, very small, finger morsels and dip in Hummus and you have a very under appreciated taste.
3. Cucumber. This is a veggie easy on the taste buds. If you aren’t eating these by themselves and often I would beg the question, Why? Slice them up and add them to the others as a very delicious dipping implement.
4. Cabbage. This is an unsung vegetable of fantastic qualities, not frequently eaten raw. Cut a crisp organic cabbage in long chunks and dip dip dip, the subtle spice is a wonderful additive to about any hummus blend.
5. Bell Pepper. Red ones, green ones, yellow ones and orange ones. I don’t need to sing the praises of these babies very loud, they are a champion for dipping. What color, what pizzazz, what crunchy yumminess.

My sister at Jolly little life is sending amazing pics from Punta Cana and I am here blogging about vegetables.  Well, I laugh to keep from crying.

5 item pulse check for a happier you

This week I am going to do a daily five. Random topics of my choosing in a grouping of five. I make no promises that I will be successful at an every day sequence but my intentions are such.

 

Starting out Monday with a quick pulse check on some very important entry's that may get neglected in light of their more flamboyant hybrids.

1. Water. This is just a check up on your consistency doing the basics. Figure about how much water you need and fill up the appropriate amount of bottles on the counter. Empty one and grab another and see how you’ve done by the end of the day.
   

   
2. Sun. Sun deprivation and consequently a shortage of Vitamin D is part of the reason our body has a harder time fighting off colds during the winter months. The amount of sun exposure is different for everyone depending on coloring, environment and a half dozen particulars however I just figure for myself, get out in the sun for just under the time it takes to start burning. I always protect my face with sunscreen but it is ridiculous the amount of lather people use over all their visible skin. Being in the sun is great for the psyche as well.
   

   
3. Positive outlook. Just listen to your words to check your happy meter.
   

   

   Putting a taboo on complaining to your girl friends or husband is a good place to start revamping your outlook. Start focusing on the good in your life and being verbally thankfully to the people around you.
4. Exercise. I know from serious experience that with kids the best laid plans are often for naught and sometimes you just don’t make it to the gym. On days where the schedule gets off kilter don’t underestimate the value in energetic movement.  Park in the farthest parking space from the grocery store, do squats while you are watching the kids play outside, put on a rockin’ song and just groove all your stress away. I’m sure you can think of some creative ways to burn calories and then get to the gym tomorrow.
5. Fresh food eating. Next time you go to the grocery store evaluate the contents of your cart. I try to have at least 50% of my grocery purchases be fresh, if I am seeing too many sealed bags and cans, items that have a long shelf life, I do a quick check of what our daily habits have been. Our body feels better and is healthier when we give it “life” foods.
   

   

Good Friday

When the centurion and those around him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, "Surely he was the Son of God!" Matthew 27:54

Sunday's coming!

Tornado? No problem

When my husband stays with the kids for an afternoon, feeds them, gets them ready for bed and, bless his heart, tucks them nicely into bed, the usual whirlwind of pre-bed prep becomes a veritable cyclone sight, as if a tornado touched down in the middle of my living room and spread to every area within a twenty foot radius.

 

I am looking forward to the day that I can pick up the violin and play a brilliant melancholy piece like Sherlock Holmes would when words express with limited adequacy the feeling of the moment. For now, I pick up my violin in a pondering mood play a few strains of Bach’s Minuet in G, shudder slightly and put it back in its case.

 

It was just such a scene to inspire melancholy violin playing that I came home to tonight after taking the opportunity to drive down the hill and with great efficiency proceed to spend a bunch of money getting all the things necessary for a smooth running household like diapers, toilet paper, rice milk in bulk and lots and lots of tuna ( my husbands current lunch kick).

 

Now this is something I have yet to understand about myself. I left waving to my adorable three children and husband as they happily waved back because afternoons with daddy are an occasion infrequent enough to easily put mommy far from mind. I practically kicked my heels as I walked into Costco with my sister. When you are programmed through necessity to anticipate needs and wants of little people, used to finding small items in diaper bags with one hand without looking, used to reaching out your hand to cover sharp objects right before a head comes in contact with it, though you only saw the blur of movement, and the corner at a level with it, out of your peripheral, it is as though a weight has lifted when you find yourself with none but yourself or happily with another adult.

 Side note:  Ever since reading Les miserable I have been eager to write sentences that span whole paragraphs and still make sense like old Hugo does. Really the intensity of the sentence content is astounding in that book, I do not pretend to possess such talent but I will continue to expand my run on sentences with the attempts.

 

  So here I was kicking my heels, rather ungracefully I might add, but really heel kicking is not an overly graceful activity, unless you are Dick Van Dyke on Mary Poppins, who  is after all lanky and quick which must give him some special heel kicking power

 

….so one minute practically dancing and then a couple hours later what was I doing?

 

Calling my husband to check on the kids of course. Not just check on them, I wanted to hear what they ate, if they drank enough water, if they were asleep yet, if they missed me and perhaps one or twelve more questions like those, much to the chagrin of my trying to be patient husband who might have wanted to do something else. I might add the something else was definitely not cleaning up the house. Just saying.

So my five hours of freedom ended with my eager anticipation to get back home which might have led to a little lead in the foot the last few minutes of my drive. I came in, I saw it all: the dirty clothes in a heap, the dinner dishes on the table, the toys and books, the spillage on the floor and I still felt glad to be home and, here is the clincher, happy to start tidying up and preparing for the day ahead.

I even smiled when I saw the large smear of toothpaste on the bathroom counter, telling me that Mason was probably trying to butter his own toothbrush. Went in to their rooms and saw their angelic little sleeping faces. All is right with the world.

Kids….they make me laugh and make me cry, a perennial burden on my heart.

Oh happy weight.

You know you are a preachers kid when:

I am not going to lie, Sundays are an exhausting day for our family. When my husband, munchkins and I are walking out the door after a full Sunday service I'm feeling in need of lunch, coffee and a nap as soon as humanly possible.

Sundays are so special that I can't understand why more people don't go to church. Really, why not?

So, every second  Sunday of the month is breakthrough Sunday where the worship goes strong and long, and towards the end as I am pounding on the piano relentlessly hitting more wrong notes then is acceptable and singing myself a little hoarse; I feel like workout class is nothing compared to a good bit of worship. Today was just such a service; it left you feeling high on life.

 Life is full of so many downers, church should be one of the uppers... ours sure is.

In my experience over the years of being a pastors kid, I have been astounded at the negative response to that information. I guess I am one of the exceptions as a Pastors Kid, because I loved it growing up and I still do. I know this is due to the fact that my parents were the same in the home as in the church; real, imperfect, flawed and just about the most awesome people I have ever met. They never pretended like we had to be perfect or that they were and they always made serving God  and serving people fun. God bless them for that.

So maybe my dad did tell the whole church this morning that sometimes his girls like to drink a glass of wine and get a little "buzz on"; wow dad! But the man keeps it real, that's for certain.

Being involved in our church has been another absolutely rewarding commitment of time and energy. Since growing up in the church and later in my teenage years becoming the unenviable PK (as they say) church has just been something we do and that's it. Having kids of my own hasn't changed what we do. In fact, we have committed afresh to the no compromise approach to church attendance on Sundays. We are a family, we go to church as a family and have fun doing it.

My dad has long hair, the shield of faith tattooed on his arm and he had to cut the frays off his pants before church this morning. Ya, I always thought it was cool to be a Pastors daughter.

You know you are a preachers kid when:

• you don't even blush when every eye in the audience is turned on you and you didn't even hear what it was your dad at the pulpit said.
• You do worship then rush to the nursery to watch the babies then take a quick pee and back up to the front for the alter call
• Every bad thing you've ever done has been shared from the pulpit
• On a work day or a potluck or any function everyone is coming to you and looking for a job
• You can talk pray and laugh with someone while still knowing exactly what your kids are doing in the pew
• You smoke cigars outside one evening when a teenager and the whole church knows about it at the next service
• You have John 3:16 memorized in 6 different translations
• You are one of the first ten people to arrive every Sunday morning and one of the last ten people to leave
• You look forward to Sunday every week with excitement and anticipation but are so glad when it is over.
• You actually have the thought "I wonder if these jeggings are too tight"
• People come and tell you their problems in the grocery store
• You have often been an illustration in a sermon without any forewarning or consent form

Keep the faith

 

 

A must have recipe

The two things I remember about going up to Santa Maria for Thanksgiving every year are not the turkey or the stuffing or Uncle Gary's Famous Pumpkin Pie stuff (though I have instituted that in my own family tradition over Thanksgiving), but Grandma Lois' Thursday morning pancakes and her chocolate chip cookies.

As a kid we went from driving the station wagon up north to driving the suburban, from the suburban to the suburban with tent trailer and finally from the suburban with tent trailer to the motorhome (the family just kept growing).

We had some epic adventures on that road to Grandma's and always when we got there we were sure to find, in the pantry, a surplus of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. In the morning, as we lay scattered in sleeping bags across the living room floor the delicious aroma of oatmeal pancakes would waft in a tangible cloud from the kitchen to our nostrils letting us know it was time to get up.

It has been a number of years since going up north for that blessed holiday and though my daughter was yet unborn when my Grandma passed away, there is her immortalized memory weekly visited in the pancakes my children love and the stories of her and Grandma the Great up in Santa Maria.

Make them, eat them, love them.

Grandma Lois' Oatmeal Pancakes

 

1 cup oats

1/3 cup whole wheat flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 1/2 cups buttermilk

2 eggs

Find a nice temperature on the griddle, butter that baby up and ladle on. Butter and pure maple syrup make this just about the perfect breakfast and an outstanding comfort food as well.

Side note: whole wheat flour creates the best consistency, however, because flour is a small part of the recipe I have used whatever flours I have on hand with good results. Spelt flour, almond flour or buckwheat are solid alternatives and make a good sturdy batter. Rice flour makes a thinner batter so use a little less buttermilk. If I have no flour I just blend up some oats in my Vitamix because oats are something I never run out of. If you have ever bought a specific item at the grocery store every time you shop just to be sure you don't run out then you understand what oats are to me.

 Thank you Grandma Lois for all the memories.

Memory Lane

 

Last night I was the last to arrive at Star Bucks where my girls were already deep in the throes of coffee, chatter and pictures. My aunt just returned from, what looked like, a most memorable trip to London and Paris. Seeing those pictures gave me a mixture of emotion ranging from jealousy (in the least violent sense of the word) to longing and then to appreciation; mostly the urge to pull out some of my own memories that not yet 8 years ago were taken on many of the same corners and essentially just relive the magic.

 

Travel is one of the most intensely pleasurable things in life to experience with someone or many someone's that you just love to be with.

 

The trip I took in 2006 was one of truly epic proportions.

It all started because my two little sisters were taking a three month sabbatical from real life and seeing the great wide world. Well of course flying to Paris to meet them for a week was a natural progression for Em and I.

 

I will never forget my little sisters with little flowers in hand waiting for us as we came out of the terminal. It was a joyous and loud reunion. So started our week in Paris, just the four of us, before my husband and friend came to meet us and continue our journey to London and then Spain.

Shannon, Emily, myself and Jonni, 2nd pic from the left.

 

So for my little picture trip down memory lane I will only preface it by saying it was the last great hurrah before the kids started coming; a truly great hurrah it was.

 

Mallorca, Spain

I told Chris to pack light because of all the walking and train travel we were doing therefore it was a both ridiculous and hilarious spectacle to witness him at the train station disembarking with not only his bag but his enormous travel golf club case. We had the added bonus of the wheel on his luggage breaking making his rolling bag a dragging bag. Great times.

The Louvre, The Eiffel Tower, Grounds of the Versailles Castle 

 

Our huge traveling gang in Mallorca, Spain

View from the Eiffel

View from Sacre Coure, Notre Dame

 

The Sacre Coeur and Pere Lachaise 

 

Outside the Louvre
There were days we would get a Nutella Crepe in the park and fifteen minutes later go right back for another one.

London, England

Mallorca