A little birthday present for myself

We had to get the guys measured for tuxedos for SIL's wedding. Devildog and I are part of the gang of people at the front of the church in monkey suits and fancy dresses. The Clone is a flower girl. The boys are ushers. I had Devildog drop the girls and me off at DSW while they got measured. Clone was quickly bored because there are no little girl size shoes there. I made my way back to the clearance corner and searched the big-foot sizes to see if something suited my fancy. As usual, most of what I tried on was too narrow in the toes and quickly went back to the racks. Shoe shopping is frustrating, possibly more so than shopping for pants or undergarments. First of all, there aren't enough size 9 and 10 wide width on the market at a price point this mom of 4 is willing to pay. I refuse to sacrifice fit and comfort for cute alone. It has to look good, fit well, and feel comfortable to come home with me. I have mildly high standards when we're talking about my feet - the one place my body relies on to carry me where I have to go. These would normally not even show up on my radar because they're fuschia. But, shopping to replenish my wardrobe this year has prompted me to consider colors and styles I wouldn't have looked at before. I tried them on and they're comfortable little shoes. I am figuring I can wear them with a variety of other things in my closet, so they wouldn't be one outfit wonders. They weren't too narrow in the toes, didn't have 4 inch heels that would make me fall on my face with the first step, and upon further investigation, they had a pretty clearance sticker.
So, here's my question for you - knowing my cheapskate tendencies, how much did I pay for these shoes?
It made for an even happier "Happy Birthday To Me!" moment.

Ham & Potato Soup

Pardon me for getting all domestic on ya here. But I made a bomb diggity soup for dinner.
I had New Year's ham languishing in the fridge and no sandwiches were created of its carcass. Pieces had been sliced and picked off, and I failed to remember to send a hunk of the pork with the FIL when he went back to the other home he occupies. I also had potatoes that needed to get turned into something other than a counter adornment. I contemplated soup or casserole, and went with soup.

I peeled and cut up the potatoes in a standard quartered & sliced method. the slices were about 3/4 of an inch thick. I cubed up the ham, removing the gristle and fat etc (the gross stuff nobody but the dog would eat). My sister was coming to visit, and I was planning on sending the scraps with her, but forgot. Oops. Anyway, I did use a hunk of fat to be rendered for flavor. I tossed it in the bottom of my favorite stock pot (the one Devildog bought many moons ago for a chili cook-off at work) on low heat to render out the fat. I had the heat too high and ended up frying one side of that chunk of fat. I simply turned down the heat, and poured some water in the pot to deglaze it and lidded it. I stirred around the little bit of water that was left and scraped the brown bits off the bottom that hadn't gotten shocked loose already. I poured more water in the pot, covered it, and turned the heat back up to high. As the water got hot, I turned it back down a bit and dumped in the potatoes and ham. When the potatoes were boiled till fork-tender, I poured off probably half the water. I should've poured off less, but oh well. I then poured in milk, the rest of the sour cream we had in the container, and a block of softened cut up cream cheese. I was determined not to use any canned soup, as the ham had enough salt in it, and quite honestly, I put in zero salt because of that, and it was nearing my salt threshold. Plus those soups really aren't all that great for you. Your mileage may vary. I folded it a lot to get the cream cheese to blend, and potatoes being what they are, they got mushed a bunch too. I ended up scooping out the stuff into a casserole dish, leaving the cream cheese chunks, and debated turning it into a casserole, but I lacked sufficient cheese. Plus my sister said it was fine as soup. So I dumped it back in the pot when I got the cream cheese to play nicely. About this time, I'd already turned on the oven to make a casserole, so I told the kids to check the fridge for biscuits. The oldest produced a thing of French Bread, and I called it good enough. Crusty bread with soup is lovely anyhow. I turned the heat down to low and kept the pot lid on it while the bread baked for 25 minutes. We then went to open belated Christmas gifts (because that's how we roll here). And when the timer beeped, we had bread, and soup, and Oldest decided to make some collard greens - sautee'd not drowned. He leaves his crunchier than I would have, so there was some leftover. I need to add kale and/or spinach to my list, now that I remind myself of this.
I only had to twist my sister's arm once to eat with us. I guess she thought she was taking food from the family's mouths. She has a husband and they have custody of a grandson after his mom died 12 years ago. I have 4 kids, a husband and myself and we're all big eaters. I learned how to cook for an army, and heaven help me as the nest empties and I have to learn to cook smaller again. There was enough for the kids, me, sis, and Devildog later crammed a bunch of it into a container and had some for himself. There's probably 3 portions left, if not more. And the longer it sat, the thicker it got. So it ended up being like a casserole anyway.

So I learned from this concoction that 1/2 a block of cream cheese will do. And that I probably could've left more if not all the water I started cooking with and it would have been fine. Plus with my stove, turning OFF the heat would probably be wiser, as there's plenty of residual heat when you have a thick clad bottom pot, and a ceramic cooktop, combined with the oven below it on 350 to bake dairy case packaged bread. The pot is soaking in the sink now for scraping the bottom later.
The Clone suggested I add this to the "Favorites" - meaning the binder of absolute Full Of Win recipes that are my family's favorite dishes.
And the inspiration for this meal came from a recent issue of a Taste of Home digest Slow Cooker recipe magazine. I was flipping through it at work and came across a potato & ham casserole that sounded good. However, I think I like my ham & potato soup much better. And I concocted it.

Not bad for the daughter of a woman who could screw up a box of macaroni and cheese.

The view across my mug

This is sometimes my view as I sip coffee from the bench on the front porch.
It was warm today. I was surprised since just a week ago it was most definitely NOT warm. So I took my coffee outside. I thought it was a little ironic of sorts to be 70 degrees by 10 a.m. yet, the tree was definitely dropping leaves.





Last week I was NOT wearing these, even while inside the house. Last week we were shivering with the freezing temperatures, wishing we had carpet instead of cold-retaining tile. Persnickety Ticker told me tile is brutal in the winter. Of course someone should slip Mother Nature some HRT. This menopausal weather is annoying at best.









Mmmm. Coffee. Devildog snagged the cup I used for the first round of coffee when I was away from the kitchen. So this mug is round 2's vessel. It was a housewarming gift, along with 3 others with similar phrasing and different colors. This is my favorite because it's purple.






And this view - would be the bane of many neighborhoods. But here, it's a bit of a welcome view. My FIL is visiting and has his dog Ashley with him. She was rescued from the Ashley River and as I understand things, she rescued him too. A few years ago, he was in a very dark place in his life. Ashley was apparently abused, and is a tender, sensitive & empathetic dog. Mini-Human loves Ashley, even though the dog has limited tolerance and hides after a while. So when this camper is in my driveway, there is dog hair on my floors. And we get to visit with the FIL I knew was there all along. It was hidden for so many years by those dark clouds.

Tis the something

I have beeen off in la-la land a lot lately. I have zero excuse or explanation. I just don't find myself with the words to compose a blog post easily like I used to do. I'm currently sitting here in the quiet of my house, with a fire in the fireplace dying down to barely a hint of an ember in the back, and a few cracks at random. It's been nice not to have the central heater kick on since the house is insulated better than our old dwelling was.
I keep seeing on Crackbook posts from people about their Christmas decorations going up already. Totally not a grinch here, but if I put it up now, I'll be tired of it in 2 weeks. And I leave my tree up till the Epiphany, so we're talking it's already up a while as it is. Plus I need to get my duff in gear and clear the stuff from in front of the front window for the tree. I just thought about putting it in the family room, because come Christmas morning, if it's cold enough for a fire, I surely do not want to be opening gifts farther away from the warmth of the fireplace than the couch.
So there ya go people. I just talked myself into not sharing my tree with the neighbors. They'll get to see some other lights in the window or something.
Now, if you'll excuse me...there is a load of laundry containing clothes for work that I need to move to the dryer...

Fishes & Loaves

I hosted Thanksgiving. My brother brought his girlfriend along. I love cooking, and even more so for holiday or special occasions. I have never had a dry bird because I cooked it upside down (self basting, cooks faster since you're not opening the oven and losing heat). This year I followed Leanne Ely's instructions for roasting the bird and making gravy. Visit www.savingdinner.com for the Holiday Meal instructions. Saving Dinner is one of my favorite cookbooks. I think next time, I'll use her method, but I will go back to upside down bird and/or leave it in the oven less time. I also had a large pan of sweet potato casserole. Sis gave me the recipe several years ago, and it ended up being the same recipe Pioneer Woman posted. My brother and I have fond memories of special meals at the neighbor's with her broccoli casserole recipe. My husband required collard greens, and macaroni & cheese. I put the mashed potatoes in the crockpot to keep warm. Note to self: check to make sure the crock pot is set to "warm" and not "high" (which are right next to each other). Everyone commented that it was good stuff. I didn't sleep well because Mini-Human is having issues. So today the pace of cooking a feast and sleep deprivation caught up to me. Thankfully, there are enough leftovers in my fridge that I don't have to cook for a few days. Even after making plates for my dad, brother, and brother's girlfriend, I still have a TON of leftover food. Apparently I can't cook small portions. We're all big eaters, so I make extras without batting an eyelash. I may have to run some more leftovers to my dad. The leftover turkey practically filled a Tupperware Thatsa Bowl Mega Bowl (42 cup capacity). As I packed up the food, the story of the fishes and loaves came to mind.

The ample leftovers mean that I can do some baking. I have grand plans of marvelous theory to bake stuff every year. It might actually happen this year. For now, I'm recovering from the cooking, and hanging out with my family watching Jeff Dunham's Very Special Christmas Special.
And I just remembered...I need to find my advent wreath for the table. I don't know if it will stay on the table since the Little climbs up on the table frequently.

You still love me?

I've neglected my blog a good while. I see I still have the same number of followers. I'm currently cooking a couple things in preparation for Thanksgiving dinner. As I type, the Broccoli Casserole is in the oven, and the sweet potatoes are on the counter cooling so I can get them out of their skins and turn them into Sweet Potato Casserole. I got the Broccoli Casserole recipe from the neighbor who lived 2 doors down from my childhood home. I'm sure Joann got it from the fine folks at Campbells or something. It specifies using Pepperidge Farms stuffing mix. Nonetheless, I always loved it when we ate a holiday meal at her house. When I got married, moved to Camp Lejune, and came back for a visit, I asked her for the recipe because I wanted it to make for my first Thanksgiving meal that I cooked. I've made it numerous times, and over the years, my kids have decided they don't like it. Devildog has never eaten it except the first try. Oh well, more for me and anyone else who does want it. I may have to run to the store to get more sweet potatoes though. That is one dish that goes fast and gets piled on the plate. My sister gave me the recipe probably 8 or 10 years ago. Then Pioneer Woman posted about her sweet potato casserole that she grew up eating. It's the same recipe my sister gave me. I'll do the regular mashed potatoes tomorrow morning and throw them in the crockpot to keep them warm. I'll probably use my electric skillet to keep stuff warm too, kind of like a chafing dish type thing. I'll likely use my small crockpot (the little dipper sized one) for gravy.
And now I must stop yapping at the keyboard and go make the next casserole. The sweet potatoes have cooled enough to handle. In the time I was waiting for the potatoes to cool and the broccoli concoction to bake, I went in search of my older daughter. I found her in my father-in-law's camper, watching tv. Apparently the tv is better there - because it's Papa's. I have no idea how long he'll be parked in the driveway or if he's going to use an RV park or how long he'll even be here. As he says "Whenever A.I.S. occurs"

Sorry for such a boring blog now...it used to be fun to post, so I'm sure remotely interesting to read. I swear, home ownership has not made me boring. Life just grabbed me by the horns and swung vigorously.

Fire

I've had too many coals in my fire for many months. I still have a few more than I would like to be keeping there. My t0-do list keeps growing. And it all came to a boiling over on Thursday. Sis came over to sit on the kids so Devildog could work and I could continue working these resets that I was beginning to loathe. I was handed 3 extra to do because someone else decided to shirk that responsibility. And 2 hours later, Devildog was back home.
He got fired for something someone else up the chain of command failed to follow up on, and when it came to the hot seat, that person threw my husband under the bus to save their hide.
I hope they remember the faces they stepped on to get where they are. I hope they are haunted by them. I have my suspicions of what may have happened in the situation. As angry and hurt as we are by this, Devildog is also relieved of the stress of that job. I do find it a tad funny that the manager tried to frustrate Devildog into quitting and still couldn't get him to quit after 10 months of the foolishness. Silly manager - Marines are tough, disciplined, and will work hard. Never underestimate the determination of a Marine. Never underestimate the strength of that Marine, his wife or their kids. What this individual fails to realize is that he did not win. What he did was set in motion a chain of events that any "numbers guy" worth his salt would know is bad. Turnover. It costs more to search for hire and train replacements. In the long run, remember the phrase "it's cheaper to keep her".
I wish this individual luck finding a replacement who can fill some big shoes. My husband's departure stung all the other employees. These are people that asked to transfer to whatever department he was in, because he took care of his people.
He was taught that you take care of your customer, you take care of your people, and in turn they'll take care of you and the job in general. If your customers and employees are not satisfied or happy, they'll both go elsewhere, and badmouth you on the way out the door. I strongly believe that everyone should read It's Your Ship by Michael Abrashoff, and Put Ribbons on Your Pigtails by Barbara Corcoran. These are not just lessons for managers, but for the underlings too because eventually some of them are going to be put in charge of something, and they ought to do it well when they get there. So when you have a Devildog in charge of something, things get done, and done well. Nothing is going to be "unsat".

And in this instance, taking care of his people, has come back around to several others keeping eyes open and ears to the ground to help us find a better opportunity for him. An example from Barbara Corcoran's book cites a situation where a bid was out for something, and the person in charge of securing the bid hired Barbara's company because in a previous job, Barbara was nice to that person. It was a very lucrative contract - all because she was nice to someone several years prior. Michael Abrashoff inherited the worst ship in the Navy, in every possible way. Literally zero retention/reenlistment, failed every inspection and mission. Simple things like waiting his turn for meals instead of taking advantage of "Head of Line" privilege as an officer, garnered respect from his crew, and they became willing to work for him.

So here we sit facing uncertainty, and trying very hard to quiet our inner control-freaks. (at least mine anyway, don't know about his). Apparently, I still needed to learn that whole trust thing, and "Let go and Let God". I have to keep telling myself to get in the wheelbarrow.

Hackles and Chickens

My grandma Mac was one of many in the family with a 6th sense. My siblings and I have some form of it, and there have been many times it made an appearance in our lives. My dad told me a few times how his mom would say "Something's gonna get to the chickens", and a couple days later, the remnants of a fox's lunch would be discovered.
This past week has been a series of otherwise innocuous events, but when you add them up, something's rotten in Denmark. My hackles are up, and I don't like being one of the chickens either. In the last week, we've had no fewer than THREE different solicitors for alarm companies at our door, wanting our business. Saturday, I saw the electric company technician slow and park next door. He then knocked on the door across the street, and waited for an answer. Lather, rinse, repeat a couple times. Then he went to the hose and it looked like he took a drink from the hose. Odd, and I'm sure against the company policies. I was trying to use my camera zoom to get a truck number in case it was needed. Then in the middle of that, two young guys pull up in a black Ford Focus and the passenger takes a picture of my house. I tried to get a picture of them, but my angle and timing missed their faces and the tag number. Then tonight, the doorbell rings and my oldest child answered the door without looking through the peephole, asking who it was, or just plain old ignoring the door. To top it off, the person asked if the parents were home and my son answered with "no". The urge to smack him (and then some) came to mind.
So all these scenarios keep playing in my head, and these are the kinds of things that I've had playing in my head for many years. One of them involves me telling an intruder to bleed on a non-carpeted floor because I am not trying to replace carpet.
And yes, we've told the children not to answer the door to anyone they don't know. While the new house is in a nicer neighborhood, it's not a secure compound either. It just all makes me suspicious of a lot of people and things and I don't like that feeling.

Grace in unusual places

I am sitting at my table, with a teething 11 month old close at hand (er...my hind end really) who wants to be on my hip at the same time I need to be working busily to get things done. This would be one example of God telling me to "slow down, it'll get done." The new house is almost completely painted, and what isn't painted can be done later. The master bedroom has been primed and that's the one room left to paint that needs to be done before we move in that room. The carpet in the kids' rooms will be installed Friday. So that leaves me back at the dinky rental to once again focus on getting things done there. I've been so focused at the new house and then when we get back to the rental my brain is in "get kids to bed" mode, that I did not notice that there were lots of messes that weren't here last week. Or if they were, they were contained enough that it didn't assault my senses. So this morning as I waited on my sister to get here to sit on the baby for me so I can work a couple hours, I found myself starting to get cranky and sniping about my family. Then for some reason one of the ladies in the MOMS group I facilitated came to mind. Thinking about MOMS sent my brain to the week we covered finding every day graces - including in your laundry. That Grace is hidden somewhere amid piles of papers for the shredder that got kicked around when the shredder overheated and the task abandoned. It's buried under the clothes and socks my loved ones removed and cast aside where they stopped moving. It's hidden by empty plastic bottles that were set on the side table and knocked over by the rambunctious monkey baby.
I'm just thankful I bit my tongue the other day when my oldest made comments about how he hopes the new house doesn't get messy etc. I just leered at him and waited for him to walk away. There's some grace for you - knowing which brick wall on which you should avoid smashing your head.

painting is work

I know it's work, but with a baby underfoot, it's an adventure too. We have a lot of painting to do, and it's mostly because I don't want to have to paint after we move into it. I want to get it done and over with and move in and enjoy the house. Sadly I am not an octopus, nor am I Superwoman. Progress is slow, but if it were not for the help of my Father-in-Law, it would be even slower. Teenagers are only so helpful. We (I) want to have a housewarming party before the next round of birthdays at the end of September and beginning of October. After that you've got Devildog and my anniversary, a major rivalry football weekend that takes place here, then Halloween, Thanksgiving, another household rivalry football game, and Christmas, New Year's, and my birthday. So the timing is key. We are excited, our friends are excited for us, and we just want to get this work done so we can live in the house before the baby finishes her doctoral thesis.