I feel like I need to make myself a badge. A big, brightly coloured one that I can wear on my coat. One that is unmissable. And what, you may ask, would it say?
"Don't judge me, I'm growing out my eyebrows!"
Yes, I am that superficial.
I've been tweezing my brows ever since freshman year in high school, when I read an article about shaping your eyebrows properly in Seventeen magazine. And I have always had very nice brows, if I do say so myself. Immaculately groomed, carefully darkened, and (usually) pencil thin. But I read an article about how a "strong brow" is now in and some women age themselves by having very thin eyebrows, and I was inspired. I don't want to be like "some women." At least not on the eyebrow front. I mean, I NEVER bought a pair of skinny jeans--just rode that trend out (I hear flared crops are coming in this season). But brows--come on! That's always been my bag, baby!
This growing out process is painful. Well, ok, not really painful as such. But it is prickly and hairy and decidedly untidy. Painful in the sense that I cringe every time I see myself in the mirror.
So mom, you were right after all. I now regret plucking my eyebrows. You said I would all those years ago, and I snorted in derision. Want me to say it again (because I'd want to hear it again if it were me)?
You were right!
Showing posts with label Just for fun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Just for fun. Show all posts
Thursday, February 05, 2015
Monday, March 12, 2012
Scent...
My sainted mother-in-law came over for dinner last night, and she brought dessert. It was a German sour dough friendship cake, and it was absolutely gorgeous!
Today I was cleaning up after breakfast, and I caught a whiff of the left-over cake. Instantly, I was transported back to the Hostess discount shop my mom used to take us to when we lived in St. George. I remember the racks of cheap bread and cakes, and that SMELL! I remember the gray concrete floors, and eyeballing all the Twinkies with my big sisters. And did I mention the smell?
I was four or five years old at the time. The same age Dylan is now.
Scent can trigger some strong memories. A lot of them, for me, come from my early childhood. Grape Lip Smackers, for instance, always reminds me of the St. George condo, age 4. Dumping out all of my small toys onto my basement bedroom floor. They were in a chunky peanut butter tub.
I love it when I remember things like that from when I was just a kid. I have so many happy memories. I hope my children have that, too.
And I wonder what smells will trigger their happy little trips down memory lane.
Anybody else have any of these?
Today I was cleaning up after breakfast, and I caught a whiff of the left-over cake. Instantly, I was transported back to the Hostess discount shop my mom used to take us to when we lived in St. George. I remember the racks of cheap bread and cakes, and that SMELL! I remember the gray concrete floors, and eyeballing all the Twinkies with my big sisters. And did I mention the smell?
I was four or five years old at the time. The same age Dylan is now.
Scent can trigger some strong memories. A lot of them, for me, come from my early childhood. Grape Lip Smackers, for instance, always reminds me of the St. George condo, age 4. Dumping out all of my small toys onto my basement bedroom floor. They were in a chunky peanut butter tub.
I love it when I remember things like that from when I was just a kid. I have so many happy memories. I hope my children have that, too.
And I wonder what smells will trigger their happy little trips down memory lane.
Anybody else have any of these?
Tuesday, March 06, 2012
Giving up...
I'm a Mormon, and we don't really do Lent. But I figured, well, why not give something up? It's only 40 days, and I can pick something that I know is bad for me anyway.
I decided to give up French fries and soda.
Doesn't sound that difficult, right? The soda hasn't been bad at all, and I am actually feeling the benefit of drinking more water instead of Diet Coke. But I want McDonald's fries more than just about anything.
I should say at this point that it is only deep-fat-fried chips. I am still eating oven chips. But they are just NOT the same!
But hey, the first and best victory is to conquer self. Isn't that right, Plato?
My mother-in-law gave up sugar in her coffee one year. I'll bet that was harder.
Lent. Not for the faint of heart.
Easter dinner is definitely going to involve plenty of Dr. Pepper and FRIES!!!
I decided to give up French fries and soda.
Doesn't sound that difficult, right? The soda hasn't been bad at all, and I am actually feeling the benefit of drinking more water instead of Diet Coke. But I want McDonald's fries more than just about anything.
I should say at this point that it is only deep-fat-fried chips. I am still eating oven chips. But they are just NOT the same!
But hey, the first and best victory is to conquer self. Isn't that right, Plato?
My mother-in-law gave up sugar in her coffee one year. I'll bet that was harder.
Lent. Not for the faint of heart.
Easter dinner is definitely going to involve plenty of Dr. Pepper and FRIES!!!
Monday, December 13, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
She's Crafty!
Friday, June 18, 2010
Do other women feel the same?
My mom will be here in just 5 weeks!
Seriously, I am so excited I can hardly stand it. I am so happy that she will finally get to meet my daughter, and that Dylan will be able to see her somewhere other than in a picture or on a computer screen. He's looking forward to giving her a big hug, and so am I.
I had a strange dream last night. I dreamt that mom was here, but I was so used to doing things on my own that I kept forgetting her. It was really sad, because she kept feeling left out and crying. But I'm pretty sure that won't happen!
It will be so nice to have my mom here with me, and to NOT have to do everything on my own! I kind of wish she could stay forever!
And now, here's a quick disclaimer for anyone who reads my blog who is not either a) a family member or b) Mormon:
I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints--a Mormon. Yes, our church practiced polygamy in the mid 1800's. We no longer do so. If you want to fact-check, go to lds.org.
That being said, I'm beginning to think think that polygamy is the way forward, especially now that I have kids. Seriously, how wonderful would it be to have another woman in the house? I would only have to cook half of the meals and would have help on the housework. There would always be a babysitter readily available, so I wouldn't have to drag my kids with me to doctor's appointments and on shopping trips. I might even get the occasional night out. I would have another grown up to talk to!
Of course, I would have to share my husband's intimate attentions with another woman. But seriusly, I am so tired most of the time that it wouldn't pose much of a problem. My beautiful children take every scrap of energy I've got!
Really, the only person who would lose out would be the husband. Twice as many kids to feed and clothe. Two women to keep satisfied. TWO women to nag him about not getting stuff done and complain about his annoying personal habits. Two women who are, let's face it, probably going to gang up on him whenever he says or does something thoughtless or careless to the other woman.
Seriously, I am so excited I can hardly stand it. I am so happy that she will finally get to meet my daughter, and that Dylan will be able to see her somewhere other than in a picture or on a computer screen. He's looking forward to giving her a big hug, and so am I.
I had a strange dream last night. I dreamt that mom was here, but I was so used to doing things on my own that I kept forgetting her. It was really sad, because she kept feeling left out and crying. But I'm pretty sure that won't happen!
It will be so nice to have my mom here with me, and to NOT have to do everything on my own! I kind of wish she could stay forever!
And now, here's a quick disclaimer for anyone who reads my blog who is not either a) a family member or b) Mormon:
I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints--a Mormon. Yes, our church practiced polygamy in the mid 1800's. We no longer do so. If you want to fact-check, go to lds.org.
That being said, I'm beginning to think think that polygamy is the way forward, especially now that I have kids. Seriously, how wonderful would it be to have another woman in the house? I would only have to cook half of the meals and would have help on the housework. There would always be a babysitter readily available, so I wouldn't have to drag my kids with me to doctor's appointments and on shopping trips. I might even get the occasional night out. I would have another grown up to talk to!
Of course, I would have to share my husband's intimate attentions with another woman. But seriusly, I am so tired most of the time that it wouldn't pose much of a problem. My beautiful children take every scrap of energy I've got!
Really, the only person who would lose out would be the husband. Twice as many kids to feed and clothe. Two women to keep satisfied. TWO women to nag him about not getting stuff done and complain about his annoying personal habits. Two women who are, let's face it, probably going to gang up on him whenever he says or does something thoughtless or careless to the other woman.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
With age comes, um, acceptance?
I don't know why I feel compelled to compete with teenagers in the looks department, but I do.
As part of my committment to myself to do more art, I did some self portraits a few weeks back. It really made me think about the way I look, since I spent about 40 minutes just staring at myself in the mirror. And the conclusion is, I like the way my face is ageing. If I have to get older, this is the way to go.
As a teenager I was horribly insecure about my looks. I thought I had tiny eyes and a Polish peasant nose. I thought my freckles were hideous and my coloring just plain and ordinary. I used to deck myself out in weird clothes and outrageous make-up in an effort to not blend in with the rest of the crowd. But 15 years or so has changed that.
I don't consider myself to be a total Betty, by any means. But I have realized that my eyes are NOT tiny. They just look small compared to the rest of my family (who all have unusually large eyes). My eyes are a normal size, and they're actually quite a nice color.
My insecurities about my nose came to me courtesy of an ex-boyfriend. The fact of the matter is, he had a big nose that he was insecure about himself. And he was a jerk who needed to put me down to make him feel better about himself. It's a perfectly decent nose!
The English climate has saved me from the typical fate of a desert girl. I have almost no wrinkles, and my freckles have faded. Gravity is going to work, but it's actually ok. Not too fond of what it's doing to my chin, but my eyes are looking good and my cheekbones are a bit more noticeable now.
And as for blending in with the crowd, well, I don't. It used to be my goth girl make-up or my electric blue eyeliner that made me stand out. Now it's the fact that I don't go crazy with the make-up that sets me apart in a crowd--especially in this country. And if I don't stand out, well, so what? There's nothing wrong with just blending in every once in a while.
I like my face. I don't mind looking my age (or maybe just a tiny bit younger). I've come to terms with what I've got, and with what I'm losing (like the fullness of my lips, which happens to everybody as they age). I've learned to emphasize my favorite features and downplay the ones that aren't so nice. I've learned not to fight my natural look. It's much better to just go with it.
And, with acceptance of my faults and recognition of my attributes, comes confidence. I am beginning to see why a lot of women feel their sexiest in their 30's. Getting older is actually kind of nice.
But staring at yourself for 40 minutes straight is still kind of scary. Glad I was just doing my face, and not a full body portrait. How terrifying, to stare at my body and analyze all the lumps and bumps well enough to draw them all. Argh!!!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Good times...
Having had as much sleep last night as I had in the previous two nights combined, my brain is a lot less fuzzy now. So I just wanted to share two things about the hospital that I found amusing.
Number one: the GI Endoscopy unit is on the same floor as the hospital cafeteria. Poor planning, or sadistic architect?
Number two: Edith was seen by a consultant named Mr. Aziz, who is Asian. He looked at her on that first morning and asked if she was always so pale. The nurses and I all had a giggle and he got teased unmercifully about it. I informed him that yes, she was always that pale. I believe my exact words were, "She's a whitey." Other comments were, "She's got ginger hair. Of course she's that pale," and "Pale and interesting, Mr. Aziz. Pale and interesting."
He was quite a good sport about the whole thing!
Number one: the GI Endoscopy unit is on the same floor as the hospital cafeteria. Poor planning, or sadistic architect?
Number two: Edith was seen by a consultant named Mr. Aziz, who is Asian. He looked at her on that first morning and asked if she was always so pale. The nurses and I all had a giggle and he got teased unmercifully about it. I informed him that yes, she was always that pale. I believe my exact words were, "She's a whitey." Other comments were, "She's got ginger hair. Of course she's that pale," and "Pale and interesting, Mr. Aziz. Pale and interesting."
He was quite a good sport about the whole thing!
Friday, April 30, 2010
I feel like a frickin' genius...
There are certain things I really miss about home (other than my family, of course). I miss the mountains. I miss the smell of the sagebrush after rain. I miss the bright stars at night. I miss Stephen's Gourmet French Vanilla hot chocolate.
Tonight I was watching 50 First Dates and I started thinking about white chocolate. It's really not chocolate at all, is it? Just cream and sugar. So I decided to give something a try.
5 minutes, a mug of full-fat milk, two sugars, and a splash of vanilla essence later, I sipped down a VERY close approximation of French Vanilla hot chocolate.
I wonder why I never thought to do that before. I've been missing that blasted stuff for nearly 5 years now. Truth be told, my hot milk version was even better than that powder rubbish. I love figuring stuff out.
I have some pictures to post--maybe tomorrow. They're kind of sad. Martin left the stair gate open, and Edith is a climber. She has a massive carpet burn (about the size of a dime) on the tip of her nose. It happened on Wednesday, and every time I look at Edith I either want to cry (poor little baby) or hit somebody (careless husband)! I just hope it doesn't leave a scar!
Tonight I was watching 50 First Dates and I started thinking about white chocolate. It's really not chocolate at all, is it? Just cream and sugar. So I decided to give something a try.
5 minutes, a mug of full-fat milk, two sugars, and a splash of vanilla essence later, I sipped down a VERY close approximation of French Vanilla hot chocolate.
I wonder why I never thought to do that before. I've been missing that blasted stuff for nearly 5 years now. Truth be told, my hot milk version was even better than that powder rubbish. I love figuring stuff out.
I have some pictures to post--maybe tomorrow. They're kind of sad. Martin left the stair gate open, and Edith is a climber. She has a massive carpet burn (about the size of a dime) on the tip of her nose. It happened on Wednesday, and every time I look at Edith I either want to cry (poor little baby) or hit somebody (careless husband)! I just hope it doesn't leave a scar!
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Silence...
They say that it's golden, and I would have to agree. When the kids are tucked up in bed, silence so thick you can almost taste it descends on my house, and it is bliss.
The house is so noisy during the day. I don't often listen to music, but the kids are noisy. We have telly on for part of the day. Dylan plays really noisily, making crashing noises and having "emergencies" with his cars. Edith has started shrieking. They fight, and Edith cries when Dylan pushes her over or steps on her or squishes her. Then we have the evening, with bed time cartoons and the noise-fest that is bath time.
But after 7:30pm, it is just me. And when I turn off the Wii or the telly or the radio and go to bed, I feel the silence all around me. It's nice.
The house is so noisy during the day. I don't often listen to music, but the kids are noisy. We have telly on for part of the day. Dylan plays really noisily, making crashing noises and having "emergencies" with his cars. Edith has started shrieking. They fight, and Edith cries when Dylan pushes her over or steps on her or squishes her. Then we have the evening, with bed time cartoons and the noise-fest that is bath time.
But after 7:30pm, it is just me. And when I turn off the Wii or the telly or the radio and go to bed, I feel the silence all around me. It's nice.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
How our parents mess us up...
Yesterday I was working in the garden with Martin and the kids. It was a beautiful day, we were listening to music and enjoying the sunshine, the kids were being really good. But all of a sudden, I found myself in a foul mood. I snapped at Martin and got impatient with the children. I had no idea why. And then it hit me. I was picking up rocks!
My parents built their home at the mouth of a canyon, on an old alluvial fan. There were a lot of rocks in the soil--and I mean a LOT! Dad needed all of them to be picked up so that we could have a nice
garden, and my sisters and I were all roped in to help. Then, as we got older and started being "naughty," picking up rocks was one of the ways we were punished. And my parents were smart about it, too. We didn't work by the hour. Oh no! We worked by the wagon load. Say you got home later than they told you to--two wagons full of rocks, please.
So the whole time I was picking up rocks, I felt like I was being punished for something.
The same thing happens when I have to iron men's clothes. I don't mind ironing my clothes, and I absolutely LOVE ironing the kids' clothes. But when it comes time to do Martin's shirts and trousers I end up cranky and miserable. I had to iron my dad's clothes as punishment when I was growing up, and it still feels like punishment now!
I live in fear that I will screw up my kids somehow. I guess I can only hope that the way they get messed up is no more serious than feeling like doing routine household chores is punishment for wrong doings.
All things considered, my parental issues could be a lot worse!
My parents built their home at the mouth of a canyon, on an old alluvial fan. There were a lot of rocks in the soil--and I mean a LOT! Dad needed all of them to be picked up so that we could have a nice
garden, and my sisters and I were all roped in to help. Then, as we got older and started being "naughty," picking up rocks was one of the ways we were punished. And my parents were smart about it, too. We didn't work by the hour. Oh no! We worked by the wagon load. Say you got home later than they told you to--two wagons full of rocks, please.
So the whole time I was picking up rocks, I felt like I was being punished for something.
The same thing happens when I have to iron men's clothes. I don't mind ironing my clothes, and I absolutely LOVE ironing the kids' clothes. But when it comes time to do Martin's shirts and trousers I end up cranky and miserable. I had to iron my dad's clothes as punishment when I was growing up, and it still feels like punishment now!
I live in fear that I will screw up my kids somehow. I guess I can only hope that the way they get messed up is no more serious than feeling like doing routine household chores is punishment for wrong doings.
All things considered, my parental issues could be a lot worse!
Monday, April 19, 2010
Dylan's list...
Things I want to do with Grandma when she gets here:
take her in my garden and show her the ladybugs.
take her to the garden centre to show her the fountains.
take her swimming with Jen.
take her to church with us.
take her to the castle (Thornton Abbey).
go to London and take her on the trains that go underneath the ground (the Tube)
My list of things to do when my mom gets here:
let her spoil my kids rotten and deal with the consequences after she leaves.
Mom, we are so excited that your tickets have been bought and you are definitely on your way. Dylan keeps talking about your visit and together we're coming up with different things to do with you every day. Your schedule will be so jam-packed that you won't have any free time at all. Although, to be fair, seeing the ladybugs in our garden won't really take that much time.
take her in my garden and show her the ladybugs.
take her to the garden centre to show her the fountains.
take her swimming with Jen.
take her to church with us.
take her to the castle (Thornton Abbey).
go to London and take her on the trains that go underneath the ground (the Tube)
My list of things to do when my mom gets here:
let her spoil my kids rotten and deal with the consequences after she leaves.
Mom, we are so excited that your tickets have been bought and you are definitely on your way. Dylan keeps talking about your visit and together we're coming up with different things to do with you every day. Your schedule will be so jam-packed that you won't have any free time at all. Although, to be fair, seeing the ladybugs in our garden won't really take that much time.
Saturday, March 06, 2010
Top 10 things I never thought I'd say...
Although I don't actually have a list, I'm pretty sure this would be on it if I did...
"Dylan, do NOT wrap that around your sister's neck!"
"Dylan, do NOT wrap that around your sister's neck!"
Thursday, March 04, 2010
Anticipation...
They say that anticipation is half the pleasure, but I don't think that's the case this time.
We woke up on Monday morning to glorious sunshine. Tuesday was the same. Wednesday started out a little cloudy, but the skies soon cleared. And today--well, I haven't been out yet but it looks simply beautiful. And all of a sudden I can almost taste the lovely English spring and languid English summer.
I am looking forward to long, sun drenched days with the kids. Martin will be working long hours, so I will have at least three days, usually four, a week totally on my own with Dylan and Edith. I'm picturing myself in the kitchen, carrying out household chores, with the back door open and those two playing out in the garden. I'm seeing us going to the park and visiting the grounds at Normanby Hall. I'm thinking about going berry picking and making jam, feeding the ducks, playing with the Munday children, walking across the Humber bridge, and having picnics and barbeques.
Although I honestly don't want to wish Edith's baby-hood away, I am really hoping that she's walking in the next 6 to 8 weeks. This could be the best summer yet!
We woke up on Monday morning to glorious sunshine. Tuesday was the same. Wednesday started out a little cloudy, but the skies soon cleared. And today--well, I haven't been out yet but it looks simply beautiful. And all of a sudden I can almost taste the lovely English spring and languid English summer.
I am looking forward to long, sun drenched days with the kids. Martin will be working long hours, so I will have at least three days, usually four, a week totally on my own with Dylan and Edith. I'm picturing myself in the kitchen, carrying out household chores, with the back door open and those two playing out in the garden. I'm seeing us going to the park and visiting the grounds at Normanby Hall. I'm thinking about going berry picking and making jam, feeding the ducks, playing with the Munday children, walking across the Humber bridge, and having picnics and barbeques.
Although I honestly don't want to wish Edith's baby-hood away, I am really hoping that she's walking in the next 6 to 8 weeks. This could be the best summer yet!
Saturday, January 23, 2010
A typical day...
Thanks for thye inspiration, Becca!
5:30-6:30am (depending on the day)
Edith wakes up for her morning feed. Martin brings her in to me and I feed her in our bed. Then Dylan wakes up and Martin puts Edith back to bed and goes downstairs with Dylan to change him, make him some toast, and watch telly. I go back to sleep.
7:30am
Martin gets back in to bed and I snuggle up with him until Dylan starts yelling for me. Martin goes back to sleep and I go downstairs and watch cartoons with Dylan, check my e-mail, blog, go on Facebook, etc. I go get Edith when she wakes up and feed her again.
9:00am
Wake Martin up, cook porridge for breakfast, eat breakfast, clean up from breakfast, get dressed, get the kids dressed.
10:00am
Depending on the day, we sort out Kleeneze brochures, go for a walk to deliver and/or collect them, etc.
10:45am
Martin leaves for work and I start preparing lunch.
11:15am
The kids and I have lunch--usually something gourmet like sandwiches, hotdogs, chicken nuggets, fish fingers, frozen pizza, or just lunch meat, cheese, and tomatoes.
11:45am
Get the kids down for their nap. This involves feeding Edith again and tucking Dylan in to bed and reading him a story.
12:00pm
Dash downstairs to do all the "me" stuff for the day--grab a quick shower, do ironing, clean up from lunch, work out on the Wii, do my dinner prep, put on make-up (if I have time).
1:15pm-4pm
Collect Edith as she is usually awake by now and feed her again! Sing and play with Edith while Dylan is still asleep! Martin comes home from work. We hang out and depending on the day again, do the grocery shopping, go to the library, do some work on the house, etc. Dylan usually wakes up at around 2pm. The kids have their afternoon snack. I clean up from that. Some housework gets done since Martin can take care of the kids while I do laundry, clean the bathroom, tidy up the kitchen, etc.
4-6pm
Dinner preparation and consumption.
6-7pm
Evening cartoons! Martin gives the kids their bath while I clean up the kitchen and dining room from dinner. Take the kids upstairs for bedtime milk and stories, have family prayers and kisses, then tuck both kids in to bed.
7-10pm
Grown-up time! Martin is on call at Rapi so we have to stick close to home. We do DIY on Mondays and have date night on Fridays. On other days we do some tidying, work out on the Wii together, check e-mails and blogs again, watch movies or telly together, etc.
10-11pm
Bed!
This is 5 days a week. The weekends are something else entirely. Martin works from 9am-5pm at the Place, comes home for dinner, and then heads out again at 6:30pm to work at Rapi. Then, of course, Sunday involves the 4 1/2 hour church ordeal and either a video call with my family or dinner at Martin's parents' house.
It is a pretty calm, peaceful, and slightly boring life. Sometimes it chafes, but most of the time I love it!
5:30-6:30am (depending on the day)
Edith wakes up for her morning feed. Martin brings her in to me and I feed her in our bed. Then Dylan wakes up and Martin puts Edith back to bed and goes downstairs with Dylan to change him, make him some toast, and watch telly. I go back to sleep.
7:30am
Martin gets back in to bed and I snuggle up with him until Dylan starts yelling for me. Martin goes back to sleep and I go downstairs and watch cartoons with Dylan, check my e-mail, blog, go on Facebook, etc. I go get Edith when she wakes up and feed her again.
9:00am
Wake Martin up, cook porridge for breakfast, eat breakfast, clean up from breakfast, get dressed, get the kids dressed.
10:00am
Depending on the day, we sort out Kleeneze brochures, go for a walk to deliver and/or collect them, etc.
10:45am
Martin leaves for work and I start preparing lunch.
11:15am
The kids and I have lunch--usually something gourmet like sandwiches, hotdogs, chicken nuggets, fish fingers, frozen pizza, or just lunch meat, cheese, and tomatoes.
11:45am
Get the kids down for their nap. This involves feeding Edith again and tucking Dylan in to bed and reading him a story.
12:00pm
Dash downstairs to do all the "me" stuff for the day--grab a quick shower, do ironing, clean up from lunch, work out on the Wii, do my dinner prep, put on make-up (if I have time).
1:15pm-4pm
Collect Edith as she is usually awake by now and feed her again! Sing and play with Edith while Dylan is still asleep! Martin comes home from work. We hang out and depending on the day again, do the grocery shopping, go to the library, do some work on the house, etc. Dylan usually wakes up at around 2pm. The kids have their afternoon snack. I clean up from that. Some housework gets done since Martin can take care of the kids while I do laundry, clean the bathroom, tidy up the kitchen, etc.
4-6pm
Dinner preparation and consumption.
6-7pm
Evening cartoons! Martin gives the kids their bath while I clean up the kitchen and dining room from dinner. Take the kids upstairs for bedtime milk and stories, have family prayers and kisses, then tuck both kids in to bed.
7-10pm
Grown-up time! Martin is on call at Rapi so we have to stick close to home. We do DIY on Mondays and have date night on Fridays. On other days we do some tidying, work out on the Wii together, check e-mails and blogs again, watch movies or telly together, etc.
10-11pm
Bed!
This is 5 days a week. The weekends are something else entirely. Martin works from 9am-5pm at the Place, comes home for dinner, and then heads out again at 6:30pm to work at Rapi. Then, of course, Sunday involves the 4 1/2 hour church ordeal and either a video call with my family or dinner at Martin's parents' house.
It is a pretty calm, peaceful, and slightly boring life. Sometimes it chafes, but most of the time I love it!
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
the secret ingredient...
I made a pizza the other day, and I did something a little different with the sauce. As we were eating it, Martin commented that it was my best pizza yet. I asked him if he wanted to know the secret ingredient.
"Love?" he said with a smile.
"No," I said.
"Ketchup."
"Love?" he said with a smile.
"No," I said.
"Ketchup."
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Super saver...
£2.48 buys a lot of groceries when you shop the reduced section on a Saturday night. Hooray for Martin!
Sunday, December 06, 2009
A story in pictures...
We went on a Christmas tree hunt on Friday, and found our hunting ground on the back road between Barrow and Goxhill--two local villages...
The farmer led us out to the field of trees currently being harvested, where we chose our favorite. Then he took out his handy dandy chainsaw and chopped it down for us...
We asked for a 7-8 foot tree, but this one was a BIT bigger than that. Martin was carrying Dylan and I was carrying Edith, so the farmer carried the tree. What a champion!
Edith and I chilled while Martin and Nigel (not really his name, but it sounds nice and British and I never got his real name) strapped the tree to the top of the car. What did Dylan do, you ask?
Dylan splashed in a mud puddle, which we were fine with since he was wearing his wellies. Then he FELL in said mud puddle, and this was the result. Since his jeans were all muddy, this was how he had to come home...
We had to cut about a foot off the tree to get it in the house, and we had to do some serious rearranging of the furniture. Our house was a bit untidy afterwards...
But we DO have an absolutely gorgeous tree. All it has is lights at the minute, but we shall be decorating it tomorrow evening and more pictures will follow.
Now we're ready for Christmas. Sort of.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
On cooking (and eating)...
I love butter!
Everything tastes better with a little bit of butter. Especially vegetables. Last night I melted butter on my carrots while they were still in the pan, then I used the pan to make gravy. And I discovered that even gravy tastes better with butter!
When I lived at home, my mom bought margerine. I think this was more about cost than taste, because now there are only three of them at home she buys the good stuff. So I never really liked margerine, but I was so used to having it that when I moved into my first apartment and started buying groceries I automatically reached for margerine. Until one day, which I remember well...
I was standing next to the margerine in the grocery store. I was about to run out at home, and I slowly reached out to get some more. I placed it in my little basket. Then I thought to myself, "Wait a minute. I've NEVER liked margerine. Why am I buying this?" Then I put it back on the shelf and reached for butter, and I have never looked back.
Why was this such a defining moment for me? It was almost like a symbolic severing of those apron strings--a manifestation that I was really on my own now. Not part of my mom's household any more, but the head of my own.
I had a similar feeling the first time I bought my own laundry detergent.
I don't think I could ever be a vegan. Vegetarian would be tough, but I've done it before and I got used to it after a while. 6 months in the junior bacon cheeseburger from Wendy's broke my resolve. But give up all dairy products? NEVER! My shopping budget is really tight, but I always buy fresh milk, butter, cream, and cheese. As my mom can't cook without Campbell's "cream of" soups, I am completely unable to cook without butter and cream in the house.
Sounds like we really eat unhealthy stuff here, doesn't it?
You know what's really bad? I never used to cook with salt, but now I have discovered how much nicer it makes food taste. I've started using it. And, sadly, I have expensive taste there as well. It simply must be sea salt!
We're all going to die of heart disease at my house, but at least we'll go with a good taste in our mouths.
Everything tastes better with a little bit of butter. Especially vegetables. Last night I melted butter on my carrots while they were still in the pan, then I used the pan to make gravy. And I discovered that even gravy tastes better with butter!
When I lived at home, my mom bought margerine. I think this was more about cost than taste, because now there are only three of them at home she buys the good stuff. So I never really liked margerine, but I was so used to having it that when I moved into my first apartment and started buying groceries I automatically reached for margerine. Until one day, which I remember well...
I was standing next to the margerine in the grocery store. I was about to run out at home, and I slowly reached out to get some more. I placed it in my little basket. Then I thought to myself, "Wait a minute. I've NEVER liked margerine. Why am I buying this?" Then I put it back on the shelf and reached for butter, and I have never looked back.
Why was this such a defining moment for me? It was almost like a symbolic severing of those apron strings--a manifestation that I was really on my own now. Not part of my mom's household any more, but the head of my own.
I had a similar feeling the first time I bought my own laundry detergent.
I don't think I could ever be a vegan. Vegetarian would be tough, but I've done it before and I got used to it after a while. 6 months in the junior bacon cheeseburger from Wendy's broke my resolve. But give up all dairy products? NEVER! My shopping budget is really tight, but I always buy fresh milk, butter, cream, and cheese. As my mom can't cook without Campbell's "cream of" soups, I am completely unable to cook without butter and cream in the house.
Sounds like we really eat unhealthy stuff here, doesn't it?
You know what's really bad? I never used to cook with salt, but now I have discovered how much nicer it makes food taste. I've started using it. And, sadly, I have expensive taste there as well. It simply must be sea salt!
We're all going to die of heart disease at my house, but at least we'll go with a good taste in our mouths.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Housekeeping tip of the day...
Would it make me a bad parent if I told Dylan he could only pee in the toilet, but if he HAD to pee on the floor could he please make it the kitchen floor? Urine makes my floor tiles sparkle when I clean it up!
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