. . .

It's almost embarrassing coming back to this blog but Beth wanted to say "Howdy!". I'll try and post an update soon but I'm off to read some Christmas story books to the boys...

Lily Lake

On Labor Day we went with Grandpa and Grandma up to Estes Park to spend the day with Uncle Dave and Aunt Bonnie (Grandma's brother and his wife). I don't have a picture with them in it :( but I do have some of our walk around Lily Lake.

Family Hike

Wow! It's been quite a while since I've visited... it even slipped my mind that we had changed the look of the blog. :P Not that anyone else visits either but I thought I'd put up a few posts with pictures.

Back in July Dad took us all on a wonderful hike and here are a few pictures from that day!

Best Friends!

The Pride of The Tide

Yes, we are all still alive and kickin' and I won't even try to redeem ourselves. :) Life seems to be a rapid snowball and even the picture world has been pushed to the side. I do however have a few and I'll start with Roll Tide Roll... :)

I'll try and do some catch up soon but I'm not going to promise anything!

Lovin' Little People

I Could Write a Sonnet About My Resurrection Sunday Bonnet...

Like a Big Pizza Pie...

Tonight I made dinner. This is nothing exceptional, as we are quite normal and do eat dinner every night, and most often, I am the one who makes it. The unique thing came in the making thereof.

We were having pizza, but not the elaborate kind that takes me two hours. Okay, so I let it get a little out of hand sometimes, but homemade pizza is only good when it is completely gourmet. Or maybe, I'm just picky. But no, this was the very-cheating kind of pizza, where you slice loaves of french bread in half and put all of the fixin's on from there. We are talking so easy that Julia Child would blush to see her cookbook on a shelf in the kitchen where that was being prepared. But we had the ingredients on hand--bread, leftover marinara, and cheese and pepperoni in the freezer. So I turned Julia's face to the wall and got going.

Five minutes later, there I was, subjecting my pepperonis to the tortures of broil. And oh, how they writhed and sizzled from the heat. Yet, though the pepperoni curled and died in agony, yea, still the cheese would not melt. I was most perplexed and kerflummexed. So the broiler was deprived of it's victims for a moment while I investigated this mysterious cheese. And as I poked at it and sniffed, and finally had to taste test, I learned the mozzarella's secret--It wasn't mozzarella at all.

It was potatoes. Grated hash browns, that look very much like mozzarella cheese, more exactly. And hash browns, you know, don't melt.

So the creativity had to begin to flow. After all, what do you do with hash brown pepperoni pizza? I did what every self-respecting pizza maker would do. I got out the real cheese from the fridge. We only had a little bit left, but it was real cheese. I knew this, because it said so, all across the front of the bag, and there was a very idyllic looking picture of cows grazing in a field. Not exactly the stuff of which potato bags are made. So I divided it into little bits and put it on each pizza. Then came Parmesan, then basil.

And now it is time for confession. I salted the pizza. I know, it's a food naturally high in sodium. But potatoes, people! Unsalty potatoes are disgusting! And so, knowing that Julia would never show her face in my kitchen again, I got out the salt shaker. And I shook. And guess what? Everyone liked it! We had no leftovers, not one little bit. So perhaps, this is not the worst pizza topping idea in the illustrious history of that food, but rather the birth of a new culinary sensation.

I think we'll call it Irish Pizza.

A state of denial...

I'm writing a book. And no, I'm not joking. But, it is not a novel (I could refer you to some of my friends who would second the fact that I haven't a gift when it comes to creative writing). But, I am, nonetheless, writing a book. It's a small book (said friends would tell you that I write nothing small, even when I say I'm going to).

Since music and the muscle/neurological physiology of the human arm are the only two things I know enough about to write a book, your choices are pretty limited. Any guesses? :) My bid was chosen to write a 40 page book on how to read music. Really hasn't been too bad (as in, I haven't had writer's block so far) but explaining and creating graphics that communicate the basics of music reading without being able to demonstrate on a keyboard can make it a little more difficult than actually teaching someone in person. So, if there are any sphynxes out there who want to proofread it... :)

One-man Quintet

Youtube wouldn't let me embed a smaller screen but you don't really lose anything from the full screen. This guy has a few other videos--search for Ben Everson.

It's Anna!

While Beth and I were taking pictures, Anna came out to wash her car. Beth could not be kept for pictures any longer and had to go see here sister! She's priceless!

Spring is close! :)

She's our little blond girl...

with some pink, of course! :)

Quilts of love...

We've been told that we are addicted
but there are just some occasions that a quilt is a must! :)

We made Dad a quilt for his 50th birthday.
(It was only 3 months late! :)

Grandma's birthday was in Feburary and this is her quilt.

All the new cousins get quilts and this is little Cara's.

An Exceptional Read

This poor blog hasn't seen much activity since the first of the year and I don't know that I've been on at all. This is about to be remedied... Predictably, I'm going to say something along literary lines. :) I just finished Makers of Religious Freedom in the 17th Century this evening and found it to be very enjoyable; slightly slow in a few sections but I knew next to nothing about three of the men and it was well written. It gives roughly 50 page biographies on four men--Scottish Covenanters Alexander Hendersen and Saumel Rutherford, and English Puritans John Bunyan and Richard Baxter. One of the things I found most intriguing was the wide and hugely varied kinds of men they were, and how the Lord used them. They were everything from landed gentlemen to men of the lowest social class and they each filled a particular role in the shaping of their national histories. Of particular interest was the fact that, although they all desired to lead lives devoted to their own congregations, they each had to deal heavily in politics and all but Hendersen truly suffered persecution--either in the form of being exiled or suffering imprisonment. I was startled at how much unrest and threat to true Christianity was present, particularly in the life of Baxter.

It was a pleasant surprise to find beautiful and poetic language flowing so freely from their pens. This is a selection from Richard Baxter's Poetical Fragments that closed the book.

Now it belongs not to my care
Whether I die or live:
To love and serve Thee is my share:
And this Thy grace must give.

If lie be long, I will be glad,
That I may long obey:
If short: yet why should I be sad,
That shall have the same pay?

Christ leads me through no darker rooms
Than He went through before:
He that into God's Kingdom comes
Must enter by this door

Come, Lord, when Grace hath made me meet
Thy blessed Face to see:
For if Thy work on earth be sweet,
What will Thy glory be?

My knowledge of that Life is small;
The Eye of Faith is dim:
But it's enough that Christ knows all;
And I shall be with Him.

Our Newest Little Cousin

Valentine Cookies

Becca and I had so much fun in the kitchen the other day. Here is what we did...

Half if the top cookie was dipped in almond bark.

Then drizzled with chocolate.

And made into a cookie sandwich!
All packed and ready to ship to grandparents. :)

To a Young Girl Singing

Oh, what do you know of the song, my dear,
And how have you made it your own?
You have caught the turn of the melody clear,
And you give it again with a golden tone,
Till the wonder-word and the wedded note
Are flowing out of your beautiful throat
With a liquid charm for every ear:
And they talk of your art,--but for you alone
The song is a thing, unheard, unknown;
You only have learned it by rote.

But when you have lived for awhile, my dear,
I think you will learn it anew!
For a joy will come, or a grief, or a fear,
That will alter the look of the world for you;
And the lyric you learned as a bit of art,
Will wake to life as a wonderful part
Of the love you feel so deep and true;
And the thrill of a laugh or the throb of a tear,
Will come with your song to all who hear;
For then you will know it by heart.

Henry van Dyke

Mutts to Describe the Day

A cartoon strip that sums up my life at the moment... :P



Sorry for the brevity of the post... off and running!