tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40671388213681204282024-02-18T21:59:23.421-08:00uniquetyEvahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.comBlogger864125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-88610357473742463862012-12-05T20:26:00.001-08:002012-12-05T20:26:32.403-08:00Giveaway!Hi there,remember how I moved and I'm having a giveaway?<br />
<br />
Yeah well <a href="http://uniquetyblog.com/">I did</a> and I am.<br />
<br />
So go on over to my <a href="http://uniquetyblog.com/">new site</a> and follow me. That's all you have to do to enter.<br />
<br />
Also you can give me feed back on what you want the prize dolly to look like.<br />
<br />
Now, go forth and do it! (please)Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-82243788456100465802012-12-03T15:57:00.000-08:002012-12-03T15:57:10.277-08:00Get out of hereFriends, today is the day. <br />
<br />
Hence forth you will find me posting at uniquetyblog.com<br />
<br />
Fare well Blogger, you've been good to me but it's time to move on.<br />
<br />
There's a giveaway on my new site but you have to go there to enter. So you should do that.<br />
<br />
Bye now!Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-82721463178312285972012-11-28T19:29:00.005-08:002012-11-28T19:29:51.677-08:00sporadic Goodness gravy friends, I am a blank slate today.<br />
<br />
I had a nap this afternoon. I laid down and set my timer for 30 minutes. That usually does the trick. This time I was interrupted 20 minutes in. Feeling cheated, I ignored the timer when it did go off and then slept fitfully for too long. I'm going to blame my brain funk on that.<br />
<br />
Want to hear a sad story?<br />
<br />
Once there was a family with a rockin' awesome trampoline. Over the course of 5 years in the brutal Arizona sun the pad on the trampoline wore out. The family was fix'n to replace it but before that happened the trampoline's mat ripped during a family jump fest so now they needed both a pad and a mat. <br />
<br />
The family was left with the trampoline frame and a 3 foot deep pit in the yard until they saw fit to buy 2/3rds of a new trampoline. <br />
<br />
The End.<br />
<br />
By the way, I'll be taking the next few days to practice a bit on my new blog and think up a giveaway for all those who follow me through the switch. <br />
<br />
I'll be back Monday with the low down. Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-54612095849092180262012-11-27T20:16:00.001-08:002012-11-27T20:16:16.468-08:00Technical struggles Yo!Me, I'm not to great with the technical what have yous. I ride on the coat tails of my techno savvy husband and that usually gets me by.<br />
<br />
However I recently got an iphone.<br />
<br />
He chose a windows phone for himself. <br />
<br />
What this means is that I have to actually learn how to do stuff myself. Normally anything I use he already knows everything about so I just ask him how to do everything and all's well.<br />
<br />
Not this time.<br />
<br />
Tear.<br />
<br />
I'm having issues with blogging instagram photos and If I want it sorted out I'll have to do it on my own because his Windows phone doth not instagram.<br />
<br />
In other news; GUESS WHAT! I'm moving!<br />
<br />
Not physically. Physically we're still here in the same little house. <br />
<br />
My cyber home will be moving at the end of the week. You'll all be invited to see my pretty new site on Monday. In the mean time I'll try and learn how to use instagram such that I can share instagramish things with y'all. If'n you want to follow me over there, my user name is eva_uniquety<br />
<br />
peace out.Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-1807352224394713832012-11-26T20:28:00.000-08:002012-11-26T20:28:10.031-08:00Thursday MorningEvery year since it began I've thought about running the local Thanksgiving morning 5k. Last year I even went so far as to visit the registration site.<br />
<br />
Thanksgiving eve as I sat <a href="http://uniquety.blogspot.com/2012/11/prep.html">seeking motivation </a> to retrieve my phone the lazy guilt gnawed at me until I up and registered.<br />
<br />
I got up Thursday, fed the kids, put on my runnin' things and moseyed on down to the starting line.<br />
<br />
It was the best 5k ever.<br />
<br />
Here's why.<br />
<br />
Most of the serious runners in the area have <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=turkey+trot&aq=f&oq=turkey+trot&aqs=chrome.0.57j0l3j62l2.3019&sugexp=chrome,mod=8&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8">bigger fish to fry</a> which left me, slowpoke thought I am, passing more than being passed. I'm not going to lie; this was a first for me.<br />
<br />
I am not fast but I can knock out 3 miles without stopping no problem. In this race that meant I finished easily within the first half.<br />
<br />
The race was held at my normal running time with road conditions I'm perfectly accustomed too.<br />
<br />
I made it through the first 2.5 miles without noticeably becoming anyone else's speed gauge. You know when a nearby runner pegs you as their person to beat. "As long as I finish before her I'll be doing all right," you can practically hear them thinking it every time they put on a burst of speed and stagger past you. <br />
<br />
This time right near the end I started hearing somebody huffing persistently just over my right shoulder. It started a ways back and got louder and closer and louder and closer until I was thinking of stopping for a minute just to get whoever was causing all the racket out of my blind spot. Finally, he passed me (thank goodness) and I was left in peace. That is until he took a walking break, I passed him and it all started over again. Rather than finish out the race annoyed by the noise I went ahead and crossed the street. It was a good decision.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxXY23D9PvoI0s1qi3J5438fT8yyIxQDVfeWBh9Ww2qM_P66H3A_kJTwZAJAinbip7sDR5xzH6KqQoUKOGnCo7nMO7e_tQf-t40oApH9Om1Io-HnJ0gXEJTnkeaGC200Q7ahTVfIf_qxYq/s1600/IMG_7891.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxXY23D9PvoI0s1qi3J5438fT8yyIxQDVfeWBh9Ww2qM_P66H3A_kJTwZAJAinbip7sDR5xzH6KqQoUKOGnCo7nMO7e_tQf-t40oApH9Om1Io-HnJ0gXEJTnkeaGC200Q7ahTVfIf_qxYq/s400/IMG_7891.JPG" /></a> </div>
While I was running I didn't think I was actually a pacer for noisy guy. I thought it was just unfortunate running proximity until Mr told me how just before the finish he gunned it to cut ahead of me. That's right the dude in the forefront of the above action shot was the noisy runner. I suppose maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was just gunning for the finish without regard to whom he overtook along the way.<br />
<br />
This was a low tech sort of event. There were no chips to fasten to shoes. No sound system, announcements were made with a simple megaphone. I didn't even get a bib number. They were all out. So I had to keep my own time.<br />
<br />
33 minutes.<br />
<br />
My best yet.<br />
<br />
Take that Huffington Post.Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-90596554016223710622012-11-21T20:06:00.003-08:002012-11-21T20:06:55.731-08:00prepI am sometimes on the lazy side. <br />
<br />
For example now.<br />
<br />
I have a picture on my phone that I want to post about but my phone is over there. "ihn!" that was the sound of me reaching in vain.<br />
<br />
After dinner tonight I busted out the pies for tomorrow. Well, one pie and one empty crust. I need to make the chocolate filling for the empty one still. Also, I think I need some pie weights. Blind baking pie crusts almost always brings me unsatisfactory results. Either the edges fall, the whole thing shrinks or (like this time) once the bottom is done the sides are over brown.<br />
<br />
That paragraph was an attempt to undermine the truth telling I did at the top of this post.<br />
<br />
Mr is getting the turkey all cozied up in it's brine for the night. His productivity mocks me.<br />
<br />
Our menu for tomorrow is: Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stove top (I hate stuffing, Mr must make due) roasted carrots, roasted beets, raspberry jell-o, rolls, sweet potato pie and chocolate pie.<br />
<br />
We none of us care for cranberries so we don't bother with them. <br />
<br />
Each kid is the helper for a dish. Ziz made the jell-o this afternoon. (individual ramekins=fancy) Moo helped peel the carrots and Enzo is all psyched up to help mash the potatoes. Duke's job is not to sneak out and ride his bike down the middle of the street all by his eighteen month old lonesome.<br />
<br />
I guess we're all set for tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Happy Thanksgiving yo!Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-15032258857832142462012-11-20T19:21:00.001-08:002013-08-15T09:38:22.188-07:00pinkifiedAfter two long years I finally got around to painting my piano. <br />
<br />
Zizza has completed Suzuki book one on her cello and so we hosted her book recital on Sunday evening. That recital was just the kick in the pants I needed to finally get on with that project. We needed the piano to be in tune for the recital and I wasn't about to have it tuned <i>before</i> we hauled it out to the garage for painting and then back again.<br />
<br />
As often happens in procrastinating circumstances such as this, I finished the painting but not in time to have tuning scheduled. Ziz was accompanied by a ravishingly pink but out of tune piano. Priorities, you know?<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJMwMQoTIwtxuc0lOz7ajtr_uvEpUb_9Tp4EW-rPI5YLPlkchj6b0mB0vseYgkZqrVGmyFLIKA69MOi9emS-f3FRyZp_Efqax-mZriV1qTNs2Zig30Pba_ahLIigF6iqEk3iGoyxj4giK/s1600/IMG_7888.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJMwMQoTIwtxuc0lOz7ajtr_uvEpUb_9Tp4EW-rPI5YLPlkchj6b0mB0vseYgkZqrVGmyFLIKA69MOi9emS-f3FRyZp_Efqax-mZriV1qTNs2Zig30Pba_ahLIigF6iqEk3iGoyxj4giK/s400/IMG_7888.JPG" /></a> </div>
We topped the new loveliness with a forest of autumnal trees. I did <a href="http://pikadillycharm.blogspot.com/search/label/Paper%20Craft">this project</a> with Enzo's class for the <a href="http://uniquety.blogspot.com/2012/10/pants-on-fire.html">harvest party</a> and had extra paper bags all prepped and ready to adorn the pinkness when she came back from the garage.
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheiy2863vbjT1oaefXxiTjo8yu_TSC5Vj26FUR4wJYFmDuGDpMT_6xb0lIkwIa0wx286Zt7eV7WDLR-89W4g9TkiWeYt-fToR6FKJLocVSiIX_jKlgfUwILps_tbxOd5_9ZVc7-Goc1xHX/s1600/IMG_7889.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheiy2863vbjT1oaefXxiTjo8yu_TSC5Vj26FUR4wJYFmDuGDpMT_6xb0lIkwIa0wx286Zt7eV7WDLR-89W4g9TkiWeYt-fToR6FKJLocVSiIX_jKlgfUwILps_tbxOd5_9ZVc7-Goc1xHX/s400/IMG_7889.JPG" /></a> </div>
<br />
It was a great project, I recommend it. The trees and the piano both.Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-3003606486632230542012-11-19T19:56:00.000-08:002012-11-19T19:56:13.870-08:00Baptized My beautiful baby girl was baptized on Saturday.
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNrCnxcppqgWfJ0gd0xI4cOtpSusNCyqEuN1utyx_ev_gohYqpw7lgHb51-tNI2ddTe15gJzOf0Xwap7kFZpWQPeRVNnXONoyfND3hmDYCPBtbfQqlkBUst5JVuupg11bZlBEBi620KKf/s1600/IMG_7870.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNrCnxcppqgWfJ0gd0xI4cOtpSusNCyqEuN1utyx_ev_gohYqpw7lgHb51-tNI2ddTe15gJzOf0Xwap7kFZpWQPeRVNnXONoyfND3hmDYCPBtbfQqlkBUst5JVuupg11bZlBEBi620KKf/s400/IMG_7870.JPG" /></a> </div>
One of the ways the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (aka-Mormons) differ from other Christian churches is that we don't practice infant baptism.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyTTWIE_1iVN7S5_nOmfTcc1kctF2-a3EP8xN8OCuRMImgmWUQMTEwBkeCoNFEqt2Hw-dG8dSqA_OCbPoGMfrnDsLH2nALuih3nwsbFS5fiulnaAP1582Ys-2dIpCWtmKkLVqZDSf99yci/s1600/IMG_7873.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyTTWIE_1iVN7S5_nOmfTcc1kctF2-a3EP8xN8OCuRMImgmWUQMTEwBkeCoNFEqt2Hw-dG8dSqA_OCbPoGMfrnDsLH2nALuih3nwsbFS5fiulnaAP1582Ys-2dIpCWtmKkLVqZDSf99yci/s400/IMG_7873.JPG" /></a> </div>
We believe that young children are perfect and unspotted. At the age of eight they are mature enough to be accountable for their actions and thus ready for baptism.
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-GQuWjoxpnNYqVMvA0L7QuarOc8BzvFhx2bRUh7z6myN7EhCto5_YD3EGMjxWJcjoGJk8jRrtSpboZpawDoIVvi9rwghj0I8JWYt-8qK-MNjlTlhddc2iFPb77pUpjKXjD94Gl9YqW9U/s1600/IMG_7874.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-GQuWjoxpnNYqVMvA0L7QuarOc8BzvFhx2bRUh7z6myN7EhCto5_YD3EGMjxWJcjoGJk8jRrtSpboZpawDoIVvi9rwghj0I8JWYt-8qK-MNjlTlhddc2iFPb77pUpjKXjD94Gl9YqW9U/s400/IMG_7874.JPG" /></a> </div>
My girl was ready. She read The Book of Mormon (all 531 pages) for herself this past summer. The seed of faith is growing in her heart and I couldn't be more proud.
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuaLpEQxKB54lvhB7mQvKbjo4yOnxDzgBbLlM7ciuYHnDiJsePZvD1u3s0i-TcWmnNt_nUkbjna07wnJVXXItDPOTWYIr0CS4j5unAEq-GUYbMw1YfJWi693Lm3KQe0b1TWgB5_qWKXFNm/s1600/IMG_7880.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuaLpEQxKB54lvhB7mQvKbjo4yOnxDzgBbLlM7ciuYHnDiJsePZvD1u3s0i-TcWmnNt_nUkbjna07wnJVXXItDPOTWYIr0CS4j5unAEq-GUYbMw1YfJWi693Lm3KQe0b1TWgB5_qWKXFNm/s400/IMG_7880.JPG" /></a> </div>
Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-31147024390571763812012-11-13T19:53:00.001-08:002012-11-13T19:53:34.727-08:00List makingIt's that time of year.<br />
<br />
People are making lists.<br />
<br />
Even Enzo got in on the list making action. He wrote two grocery lists tonight.
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqr9yuzsS7PRD_W3ddV4Yhg0lEPOFSJ9cAMDBWlnMhT4GZ0reUE-GRhdpB0rd6mbCraA7482_Wv75vQ8yHDwbOn8ElKK87ElVBb0fGseCBgdhg2-cKpYsL-FRY935GXJl2flI0bGf9fdB/s1600/IMG_7859.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqr9yuzsS7PRD_W3ddV4Yhg0lEPOFSJ9cAMDBWlnMhT4GZ0reUE-GRhdpB0rd6mbCraA7482_Wv75vQ8yHDwbOn8ElKK87ElVBb0fGseCBgdhg2-cKpYsL-FRY935GXJl2flI0bGf9fdB/s400/IMG_7859.JPG" /></a><br />
<br /></div>
The first list reads "Goldfish, apples, bananas, lettuce, cucumbers." The second list says "fishies, celery, broccoli, peas, beans, oranges."<br />
<br />
This is the first time I've seen him do this kind of thing, and by "this kind of thing," I mean attempt to spell things on his own. In the past he's dictated all his list making to me. He likes nothing better than to make a good grocery list if he's got a notebook handy.<br />
<br />
I used to have a little book with his name on it filled with lists he whispered to me during church. I suppose I should get him a new one. He had to borrow pages out of his sister's notebook for the lists tonight. Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-90949932841085846132012-11-12T20:05:00.001-08:002012-11-12T20:05:15.680-08:00hecticFriends, this week is going to be a doozy. I'm hoping to keep up, but I might not.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have a pretty darn fancy dress to tell you about (also make) and Duke has been so darn adorable this past week(ish) spouting off new words left and right I'll be needing to effuse over that at some point but I don't know if that point will be a part of this week. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What I'm saying is, I'm gonna try friends but I can't promise anything too spectacular.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
See you tomorrow. (maybe) </div>
Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-41849944017102673082012-11-09T19:28:00.000-08:002012-11-09T20:40:46.089-08:00FitDuke has spent most of his life on clothes too big. He is a spring baby with a winter baby for an older brother. All of my baby boy clothes are a season off in size. We're really getting into trouble now because while Enz was a <a href="http://uniquety.blogspot.com/2008/02/he-really-is-tiny.html">tiny boy</a> to start out with, he beefed up quite a bit right after his first birthday. <br />
<br />
Duke is only weeks away from eighteen months and I'm still waiting for the beef up there.<br />
<br />
In other words: Dukes winter clothes are extra huge. Even huger than we've become used to. He's rocking rolled waist bands and bunched sleeves like they're going out of style.<br />
<br />
At the beginning if the summer after I got out all the too large clothes I had for him to wear in through the months of stifling heat I decided to get him a thing or two in his actual size. This ensemble became my favorite.
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivx5TAPJwxPvi-VOE9G5MlqMLD6HwPHjgosMiwSC-TNYP_k8YscFnfFg4JU7mX1l60rdr8XLsQQCpAIQY_SBSlU1KaIHfcE4cLfKbRQ4Nc4O8Ys6wfmropmnfms2ZBNQru1lEWATvq1n1h/s1600/IMG_7829.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivx5TAPJwxPvi-VOE9G5MlqMLD6HwPHjgosMiwSC-TNYP_k8YscFnfFg4JU7mX1l60rdr8XLsQQCpAIQY_SBSlU1KaIHfcE4cLfKbRQ4Nc4O8Ys6wfmropmnfms2ZBNQru1lEWATvq1n1h/s400/IMG_7829.JPG" /></a> </div>
It's so refreshing to see him proportioned correctly, without his drawers slipping down and sleeves to his elbows. This outfit gets extra points for the shorts being short enough to show off his squishy little knees. Dear me I'll miss those shorts in a few weeks when things get too chilly for them.
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGR67Sti4vgtbWwDH6NhjB79jFERQsjhBFvsSQwo1rz0D8z0swi8kPG1seEao4J7uPa79jeCj5uIN-par7GmYocZCWYLa6vDmK36lLD6dvMJkhZHZsAMUUzMAOCgGCFgCvnPanePjgj_LX/s1600/IMG_7843.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGR67Sti4vgtbWwDH6NhjB79jFERQsjhBFvsSQwo1rz0D8z0swi8kPG1seEao4J7uPa79jeCj5uIN-par7GmYocZCWYLa6vDmK36lLD6dvMJkhZHZsAMUUzMAOCgGCFgCvnPanePjgj_LX/s400/IMG_7843.JPG" /></a> </div>
I sorted through the 2T box today. I couldn't keep the smile off my face unfolding the T-shirts that swathed my Enzo through his second year. Passing down clothed is so much more than economical. I'm so looking forward to dressing Duke in all those dear clothes. I mean, if he ever gets big enough to fit a 2T
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3No_mqtY0HNGRbpK4MlUOW8bm7-Tuf5VdWMl3PIINAq0khbeeo6WrBPmAN-_WXK9FeHCK4Vs5CQrBNYKG2XzBVLIH1TA10jJgzHhsWshnGvXtq8ixqS1VV3pHCJhKpPhG6eLzqDZASEad/s1600/IMG_7844.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3No_mqtY0HNGRbpK4MlUOW8bm7-Tuf5VdWMl3PIINAq0khbeeo6WrBPmAN-_WXK9FeHCK4Vs5CQrBNYKG2XzBVLIH1TA10jJgzHhsWshnGvXtq8ixqS1VV3pHCJhKpPhG6eLzqDZASEad/s400/IMG_7844.JPG" /></a> </div>
Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-68899459836294269942012-11-08T19:04:00.000-08:002012-11-08T19:04:54.910-08:00wheatI've mentioned a time or two my effort to eschew processed foods from my family's diet/my kitchen. It's a hard thing to do. I've taken the first few steps, I'm looking around trying to figure out what the next one is.<br />
<br />
Since we all start out differently in this food dance I thought I'd share what my first step was in case someone else has paused on the dance floor, keeping time while surveying the other dancers trying to figure out what to do next.<br />
<br />
I wanted to start cooking with whole wheat. Specifically freshly ground whole wheat. I tried in the past to make the switch using whole wheat flour from the store and that was a dismal failure. Everything I made came out awful and brick-like.<br />
<br />
I had since acquired a wheat grinder and I knew freshly ground flour would make all the difference but it was such a lot of work.
I'd have to get out the grinder, dig out the wheat from whatever dark hidey hole I had it stored in, grind the wheat, put it back in it's hidey hole, do my baking (hopefully I'd ground enough or I'd have to get that wheat out again) empty any left over flour out of the grinder, decide where to store that flour and then clean, pack up and put away the grinder.<br />
<br />
As you might imagine, I ended up using white flour most of the time. The whole grinding ordeal was just too much. Until...<br />
<br />
I had one of those mad strokes of genius one day. "Why am I keeping all this white flour on the counter in this easily accessible jar if I don't even want to use it?"I asked myself, "And why is my wheat packed away for long-term storage if the goal is to make it a part of my everyday baking?"<br />
<br />
These were the thoughts that led me reform the contents of my counter top storage jars.
Before I had white flour, sugar and white rice in the jars. Now I have Wheat, rolled oats(need a refill on that one) and brown rice. <br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCxDyBxWiBwOynH3XasEKiysdFoUS7NFmGmTM7ZYB5ZfsshJrcD7ay5DMbmOxkK8-vFhkgV6j2TYW_c3z9zkgyw3xjIHt31WMnG6Z3zICB5JruYMUHRcBMQJgVLYoG9v36wRBjFu8nagKM/s1600/IMG_7856.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCxDyBxWiBwOynH3XasEKiysdFoUS7NFmGmTM7ZYB5ZfsshJrcD7ay5DMbmOxkK8-vFhkgV6j2TYW_c3z9zkgyw3xjIHt31WMnG6Z3zICB5JruYMUHRcBMQJgVLYoG9v36wRBjFu8nagKM/s400/IMG_7856.JPG" /></a> </div>
Behind the jars is my wheat grinder. I decided that if I was planning to use it daily (and I was) emptying, dusting and boxing for storage between uses would be ridiculous. I'd have to give it a home on the counter If I ever wanted to make it happen.<br />
<br />
After making that storage change I find that when occasionally I decide to use some white flour I end up talking myself out of it because getting it out of long term storage is such a lot of work. Meanwhile, I grind my wheat cup for cup as needed when making cookies, crackers, biscuits, muffins, pancakes and so on and so forth. I substitute freshly ground whole wheat flour into all my old standby white flour recipes without a problem. Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-80779167833575340192012-11-07T19:32:00.000-08:002012-11-07T20:26:05.142-08:00SquashWas anybody wondering how that<a href="http://uniquety.blogspot.com/2012/10/pants-on-fire.html"> harvest party </a>went?
<br />
<br />
Well I'l just go ahead and tell you it was lovely and not Halloweeny at all.<br />
<br />
The only possibly Halloween related thing was that I had the Pinata filled with glow sticks. Glow Sticks aren't really a Halloween thing per se, it's just that when I planned the party it was going to be a few days before Halloween and I thought the glow sticks might come in handy for trick or treating. They wouldn't have though, those kids cracked 'em as soon as they laid hands on 'em they'd have been all burnt out long before trick or treating happened.
<br />
<br />
I went back and forth a bit on harvesty pinata ideas and finally settled on a squash. It turned out to be a cute fat little crook-necked thing. I rather liked it.
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://localhost:64296/df39ec1fd10d9be710830d9bd3e37343/image/d27c61d2739f45d2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://localhost:64296/df39ec1fd10d9be710830d9bd3e37343/image/d27c61d2739f45d2.jpg?size=400" /></a> </div>
I wanted to do a pinata from the start. I have a hazy memory of going with my mother to help in the class party of one of my older siblings. I also remember that she made a pinata for a party at some point. I don't know if the noisy classroom scene I have in my head is the party the pinata went to but the two live side by side in my psyche so, it might have been.<br />
<br />
Anyway, that memory jumble suggested to me that a pinata was the thing to do.
That being said. I wasn't about to bring a bat and a blindfold into the kindergarten classroom and turn folks loose. I drew on <a href="http://uniquety.blogspot.com/2008/11/party.html">this memory</a> and we tossed that squash around the circle in a game of hot potato.<br />
<br />
The pinata made it around the circle a whole bunch of times. It was almost time for the kids to line up for the end of the day and I was getting worried that I'd put on one too many layers of paper mache so I told them that they were certainly welcome to take a minute to abuse the pinata when it was their turn. Of course the longer you spend with it in your hands the more likely you'll be to get out when the music stops. It went about half way around the circle with each kid giving it a whap on the floor before passing it. Then it got to the aggressive little princess of the group. She bashed that thing without stopping until it cracked. Then every one got their glow sticks and all was well.
<br />
<br />
All was well except for how I wanted to get that girl out but she was so busy pounding the squash that she didn't notice when the strains of "Hoedown" ceased so she just carried on with the task at hand in spite of being "out." I should've targeted her earlier. <br />
<br />
Live and learn.Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-56565648794512799052012-11-06T19:50:00.000-08:002012-11-06T19:50:00.212-08:00PoliticalThe kindergarten program at out school seems to be sending political messages.
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRtryDZOCxp6v_4u5RdnNr6JO14m5u7s7LeBPganTAPfHP2xWKe6_exc8yW9d3GcUIgLJ3Md8tE4BNiGeHxXOp-5ElvA_p74fn6mjbXrlYvmTHnvIUjLZ68udSwu71yBMuP1ELuuHnLYam/s1600/IMG_0023.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRtryDZOCxp6v_4u5RdnNr6JO14m5u7s7LeBPganTAPfHP2xWKe6_exc8yW9d3GcUIgLJ3Md8tE4BNiGeHxXOp-5ElvA_p74fn6mjbXrlYvmTHnvIUjLZ68udSwu71yBMuP1ELuuHnLYam/s400/IMG_0023.JPG" /></a> </div>
Sure, it's missing a "t" but that really just makes it more subtle.
The question is, which side are they on? <br />
<br />
On one hand they've included a regular character named Mit(t) but nobody in the whole series is called Barack. On the other hand, Mit(t) is a monkey.<br />
<br />
Something to think about.<br />
<br />
Anyway, whichever side you fall on, I hope you remembered to vote today.
Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-39379659814976812802012-11-05T19:42:00.000-08:002012-11-05T20:29:04.280-08:00Runnin shoesThe other morning I set out with my stroller. Moo was on her bike pedaling happily down the street ahead of me. "Hmm," I thought. "My foot feels cold, but only in that one little spot."
Can you guess what the problem was?
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbEza77mpQ0eiMUibLh5QCa8oJexLK6szImIHJXbYgEr0ojM_oQQTWZwoe5wNSpdUIZnIe2pDwCkktuknB5SQThs45-X5XV3HI2XIVAHL34vl-R3SmgW1V11aUzSg9eaVP3Hax1iIw3wLP/s1600/IMG_0052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbEza77mpQ0eiMUibLh5QCa8oJexLK6szImIHJXbYgEr0ojM_oQQTWZwoe5wNSpdUIZnIe2pDwCkktuknB5SQThs45-X5XV3HI2XIVAHL34vl-R3SmgW1V11aUzSg9eaVP3Hax1iIw3wLP/s400/IMG_0052.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
I guess I now know the <a href="http://uniquety.blogspot.com/2010/11/it-was-july.html">life expectancy</a> of a pair of <a href="http://www.vibramfivefingers.com/index.htm">vibram five fingers</a>. I guess I'm also in the market for a new pair of shoes.<br />
<br />
I have loved running in my vibrams. It took some time, a lot of short runs and some majorly sore calves to get used to them but I'll never go back to a conventional shoe.<br />
<br />
All the sore feet, aching ankles, shins, knees etc that I used to experience in conjunction with running are no more. In the past it would take me a mile of jogging tentatively on touchy legs before I could settle in and enjoy my run. I haven't had a single running related joint ache since I changed shoes.<br />
<br />
That said, vibrams tend to be a bit on the chilly side, and since I run with a stroller I can't scan ahead for rocks in my path as well as I otherwise could. I stepped on a doozy during the run before I discovered the hole. That hurt a lot and I'm pretty sure it's responsible for the puncture wound to my shoe. All the crushed granite used in landscaping around here is killer when it gets strewn onto the pavement.<br />
<br />
I'm looking at<a href="http://www.altrazerodrop.com/"> Altra's</a> this time. Hoping that the zero drop and wider toe box will let me keep my barefoot form while being a little warmer for the winter months plus giving me some extra protection against rocks.<br />
<br />
<br />Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-13885586292569774092012-11-02T19:33:00.001-07:002012-11-02T19:33:04.935-07:00PunkephantZizza's orthodontist's office had a pumpkin decorating contest. It went without saying that she wanted to enter.
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWO9AMENRCDvSU4_5IVz3_0ZI8aqF4k1QHUWlpSrV-qYX7L8E4sjoKVtXf48yU8xDuhMQDLjhBOXHarbkSNwERyzUwaQeIOHfqotw8zhsr_MDK3xnYxSICzqEe2LKADhUetemtu5LCa6H1/s1600/IMG_7851.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWO9AMENRCDvSU4_5IVz3_0ZI8aqF4k1QHUWlpSrV-qYX7L8E4sjoKVtXf48yU8xDuhMQDLjhBOXHarbkSNwERyzUwaQeIOHfqotw8zhsr_MDK3xnYxSICzqEe2LKADhUetemtu5LCa6H1/s400/IMG_7851.JPG" /></a> </div>
Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-73729877118346298592012-10-31T19:41:00.001-07:002012-10-31T19:41:53.629-07:00The Drum MajorWhen I was little I loved to watch parades on TV. I cared only for the floats and the ladies in pretty dresses who waved so funny. We always watched the marching bands though because we had cousins who marched. If the band was in red we had to pay attention and see if it was the Uintah band and if it was we tried our best to pick out our relations. That's hard to do when they're in uniform, marching and on a tiny TV screen. We did it though.<br />
<br />
One time I remember my Dad watching with us. He pointed out the drum majors. "But where are their drums?" we all wanted to know. So my dad explained how they're called drum majors but their actual job is to lead the band and he showed us how they marched with their batons.<br />
<br />
Then I grew bigger and stopped watching parades because teenagers need their sleep and didn't think about drum majors again until I met this fellow (tall one on the right)
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjpZ4fxFZnkMQIbYiYajqOyyNRc_1-2FryEDX0JBgR8Z_xCJ5lkxSWYGc6LZhdf1CgWYZcOfN70Z09h1LV80eGQIF23J-C6W7j1iT9pI2bsvyweFWCbOcZ3nnrTMty1tY-ySR_lRVPJCd/s1600/drum+major.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjpZ4fxFZnkMQIbYiYajqOyyNRc_1-2FryEDX0JBgR8Z_xCJ5lkxSWYGc6LZhdf1CgWYZcOfN70Z09h1LV80eGQIF23J-C6W7j1iT9pI2bsvyweFWCbOcZ3nnrTMty1tY-ySR_lRVPJCd/s400/drum+major.jpg" /></a> </div>
We got married and we had us a little drum major of our own.
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1GSWyHW0VQ4b2A1q-f0xOU9k9yLpN4hWbKXxSX_gOmA_K1YBqOM6Obz153lw9XlxtZ_4stehgMPSeZ2L_zXNnJtkWsnEF56E0PjZn777JTPw5AZNANMHbIFXtCtktfHZxSAlvj5L2inva/s1600/Halloween-2012-0019.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1GSWyHW0VQ4b2A1q-f0xOU9k9yLpN4hWbKXxSX_gOmA_K1YBqOM6Obz153lw9XlxtZ_4stehgMPSeZ2L_zXNnJtkWsnEF56E0PjZn777JTPw5AZNANMHbIFXtCtktfHZxSAlvj5L2inva/s400/Halloween-2012-0019.jpg" /></a> </div>
His daddy tried to teach him to march but he was only in it for the hat.(which he wore all night long without complaint) He would have been interested in the baton if he had one but Mr didn't march with a baton so neither did Duke.<br />
<br />
It occurs to me that Moo has heretofore left out of the Halloween posting. I think I <i>did</i> mention that she wanted to be a purple butterfly. I asked her if she wanted a fancy dress with the wings but she said "no," just the wings would be fine.
<br />
<br />
I had a good time making her wings and I think they're lovely. Sadly the wire I used is too weak so they collapse as she wears them but I really actually like them that way. They don't look like wings then, they look more like slightly crumpled petals. Really pretty crumpled petals. It doesn't make sense as to why a sweet little girl child is wearing the petals on her back but you can't have everything.
<br />
<br />
I chose this next picture for the facial expressions. Moo has entered that stage where she can't figure out how to smile for a picture. It's either a glower, a grimace, or whatever it is you call the look on her face here. It's especially nice with Duke's pout.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2lXWM4nXZom3SlzFDr6tu88hL1hUkw3Q0dfXPuvCYMhuopMWjTdNkGlUjq0VOkLsN5jtj3skRlJXI7c1D3mgWz5JcfZ8Ypz7sjpT6fyT-_LOD-0UTu2udW5w1FfDQoPVW_1AJ1qv_Xm1f/s1600/Halloween-2012-0024.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2lXWM4nXZom3SlzFDr6tu88hL1hUkw3Q0dfXPuvCYMhuopMWjTdNkGlUjq0VOkLsN5jtj3skRlJXI7c1D3mgWz5JcfZ8Ypz7sjpT6fyT-_LOD-0UTu2udW5w1FfDQoPVW_1AJ1qv_Xm1f/s400/Halloween-2012-0024.jpg" /></a> </div>
Here they are all four together. Again, I chose the photo for the expressions on the faces that can be seen. What you may not realize is that Zizza and Enzo are actually in the previous photo as well. They're just <i>that good</i> at the whole ninja thing.
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho-AZHTuWeGlITS1I99W2Sw_C3oq4FOkMoLHrZlmj0oieFH1_YgmAgrSvubrEvaUnMgLQMruffmbPAYZaz2tLMXJCraOn1ak0SGdvJXOR3QHjf6-VbBqatKGrrYvKODioKJWWozxPk_owD/s1600/Halloween-2012-0043.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho-AZHTuWeGlITS1I99W2Sw_C3oq4FOkMoLHrZlmj0oieFH1_YgmAgrSvubrEvaUnMgLQMruffmbPAYZaz2tLMXJCraOn1ak0SGdvJXOR3QHjf6-VbBqatKGrrYvKODioKJWWozxPk_owD/s400/Halloween-2012-0043.jpg" /></a> </div>
Happy Halloween!
Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-87975329860235829402012-10-30T20:53:00.002-07:002012-10-30T20:53:30.548-07:00The ninjasAfter the "literary parade" Friday and then trunk or treating Saturday I've found myself thinking of Halloween 2012 in the past tense. For the past 2 days I've been fighting the urge to tear down the false cobwebs (I dutifully ignore the real ones) and pack up the jack-o-lanterns. Alas, it will have to be put off a bit longer.<br />
<br />
As for today. Well, today I'll show you my Ninjas.
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisbj9gy2u0n3M5lgAxF96nq8nEBWVC6moJWKqnaemoY1DUcbbDksplNFLzUsvrfMtjlM5CHLS0bXpULS6ZpnclvvkZMOdh0lGjswZZ6yEmoisC7WPE5c_yPbnfEimKviNZS57KKw0mB-Or/s1600/Halloween-2012-0041.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisbj9gy2u0n3M5lgAxF96nq8nEBWVC6moJWKqnaemoY1DUcbbDksplNFLzUsvrfMtjlM5CHLS0bXpULS6ZpnclvvkZMOdh0lGjswZZ6yEmoisC7WPE5c_yPbnfEimKviNZS57KKw0mB-Or/s400/Halloween-2012-0041.jpg" /></a> </div>
The way Zizza convinced Enzo to match with her was by imagining what fun it would be if people couldn't tell them apart.
Can you tell who is who?
(I never got around to Tabi boots so they opted to go barefoot in the photos so their shoes wouldn't give them away)<br />
<br />
We sort of forgot about Ninja weapons. I had bigger things on my mind. Things I'll post about tomorrow. (I'm trying to build some suspense here. is it working?)<br />
<br />
Today the 2 ninjas were soliciting for swords to wield while trick-or-or treating. The poor dears haven't realized Halloween is already over...<br />
<br />
Darn it.<br />
<br />
I did it again didn't I?<br />
<br />
I was half way up the step stool going after those polyester cobwebs. "Halloween is tomorrow, Halloween is tomorrow," I'm just going to keep repeating that to myself until I go to bed.<br />
<br />
The cobwebs are coming down the minute my trick-or-treaters come home.
Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-29714353758344877062012-10-29T21:20:00.002-07:002012-10-29T21:20:24.560-07:00A cautionary tale about jalepenosSaturday was the church Trunk-or-Treat and annual chili cook off. This means that costumes have been worn. I will discuss this more in the coming days. Today I'll be on a culinary, cautionary topic.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Generally speaking I don't pay much attention to the chili cook off. I've never spent much time or bother working on my chili technique. I don't know any secrets. I leave it to others and bring plenty of corn bread. I gave in a tried last year and my chili was a dismal failure. Seriously it was bad. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This year The Mr built a smoker. A few weeks ago he smoked a few chickens and the bones of said chickens produced some good smoky chicken broth. I thought to myself "This would be an excellent base upon which to build redeeming chili," Thus it was decided that I would enter the cook off.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Saturday we were going about our business doing what needed to be done. I put the beans on to cook and they were smelling good and smoky. Before I knew it, the time had passed to begin the final compiling steps of the chili. The heat was on and I was rushing. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I put a pan on to heat while I diced jalapenos and onion. I was dicing as fast as I could. My haste dictated that I ignore certain jalapeno precautions as I chopped. I didn't remove the seeds and membranes with my bare hands or anything but I was on the sloppy side. I wasn't fast enough.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The oil in my pan burnt. I yelled "CRAP!" a bunch of times, yanked that pan off the heat and got out a fresh one. Dealing with the over hot pan and burnt oil could wait. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Meanwhile The Mr came to my rescue following my instructions while I finished prep work. At this point I decided to taste the beans. I plucked a bean off the end of the spoon and popped it in my mouth. It was pretty good. So I licked my fingers to get a sampling of the juice...then I started screaming. My fingers were thoroughly jalapenoed and now so was my mouth.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I dashed to the fridge grabbed the milk and drank from the jug. Drinking from the jug is entirely overrated. I don't understand why anybody in a situation less dire than mine would do it. Drips collect on the outside edge of milk jugs and dry there. Now my lips and tongue were not only burning, they were also dotted with crusty milk bits. Very unpleasant. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Once I recovered, I left the compiling to the Mr and went off to dress the children in their costumes. We went to the party and had a good time. When the chili was judged (I didn't win) the trunks were treated, and the games were played we packed up and came home. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
2.5 hours had passed since my contact with the jalapeno. My middle finger was beginning to prickle. As time went by the prickle turned to a burn and spread to cover my three middle fingers. I stuffed my hand in a plastic cup full of milk and continued on ushering children into and out of the shower. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
By the time I was singing lullabies I felt like I'd high fived a frying pan. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
With my good hand I googled "soothe jalapeno burn." Lime juice, butter, aloe vera, vaselene were all on the list of possible antidotes. I tried each in turn waiting as long as I could stand between them trying to give each a chance to kick in. Nothing helped.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
By the time I was going to bed 5 hours after the chopping had occurred the sensation was headed back into the prickling stage, and by the time I woke up it was gone.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'll never be so lax with a pepper again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I think though, that I was dealing with some kind of super mutant jalapeno. I've been that careless with them in the past and never felt anything like that. Also, as I was washing dishes between failed remedies I washed the discarded seeds of the foul little beast down the disposal and soon found myself choking and gasping as my throat burned from having apparently inhaled the pepper tainted disposal mist. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was intense (like camping) and I don't think entirely normal.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, that's the story. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In other news; today I took seven plus minutes of video of Duke feeding himself yogurt. If you are interested in viewing this captivating footage please let me know.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Over and out.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
</div>
Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-87791538083698160622012-10-25T21:15:00.001-07:002012-10-25T21:15:42.330-07:00Pant's on FireOh friends, The blog thing just didn't happen yesterday. You know what did happen? The Halloween costume thing. It happened yesterday and then it happened again today.<br />
<br />
Remember last week when I was all "most of my sewing is done neener neener" Yeah, having three out of four kids costumes basically squared away may have gone to my head and caused me to procrastinate on number four which happens to be the most detail oriented of them all.<br />
<br />
Yes that's right, the kid who is unaware of Halloween and therefore has no costume demands or expectations of any kind is the one who's taking the most time and energy. This of course is because as his mother I stepped in and provided the demands and expectations on his behalf and I guess I'm more demanding and expectant than my other three kids. At least in the realm of costumes.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow is the "Literature Parade" at school. They call it that because they don't want to offend those among us who are anti-Halloween.<br />
<br />
I think it's it's ridiculous.<br />
<br />
Honestly if you had moral issues with Halloween and the surrounding traditions would you be cool with sending your kid to school to participate in a costume parade during the final week of October? Cause I wouldn't.<br />
<br />
Calling it "Literature Day" instead of Halloween is a big fat lie and it drives me crazy.<br />
<br />
Oh, and they follow up the parade with "Harvest Parties" in the classrooms. If anyone took the time to notice what's going on in the fields round about they'd see that folks here in Arizona are actually <i>planting</i> right now. Not so much "harvesting," Also the parties usually involve skeletons and ghosts and other various non-harvest themed stuff.<br />
<br />
I signed up to plan the party in Enzo's class this year. I started out thinking that I'd just call it what it was and throw the "H" word (the "H" word is Halloween, just so we're clear) around as much as possible. I will not be cowed into joining the lie. <br />
<br />
I used the Halloween word in a note to the teacher and she went out of her way to correct me. "Is that so?" I thought. "FINE." so I took my approach in the opposite direction. If it's a harvest party, then it will be a harvest party. So help me, there will not be so much as a jack-o-lantern at that party. We also decided to have the party next Friday so it won't be on the same day as the parade. It won't even be in the month of October. SO THERE!<br />
<br />
Next time I choose a school for my kids I'll be looking into how holidays are handled. Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-62429311614006017402012-10-23T21:21:00.001-07:002012-10-23T21:21:17.372-07:00really really greatEight is a rite of passage. For the baby <i>and</i> the mama. She is eight and I have a child who is eight. She's just steps away from being a big kid. The time is coming when I won't have to hire babysitters anymore because I'll have one of my own.
<br />
<br />
She was a little bit surprised by her birth-minute photo. She'd been practicing for about two minutes when all of a sudden I came at her with the camera. She was like "What? it's time already?" and I was thinking "I know just what you mean little girl,"<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-L8qyZxtHjjxvWuI16E7Xs5NDTxCI__ALoIsqIPRXlJRdvYRYJofKHjfRaEKeG-tIkgNYHphqHm7vxP6r59cOJlFhPMUHZGVvtVWVx0ogWyJ5GrSIDWQoPj7nEuITAEkDknLalQx75j9Y/s1600/IMG_7805.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-L8qyZxtHjjxvWuI16E7Xs5NDTxCI__ALoIsqIPRXlJRdvYRYJofKHjfRaEKeG-tIkgNYHphqHm7vxP6r59cOJlFhPMUHZGVvtVWVx0ogWyJ5GrSIDWQoPj7nEuITAEkDknLalQx75j9Y/s400/IMG_7805.JPG" /></a> </div>
I sat there for a bit trying to get a candid of her concentrating practice face (it's awesome) but remember how good she is at <a href="http://uniquety.blogspot.com/2009/08/photogenic-evening.html">candids</a>"? Every time I'd lift the camera she'd turn to me and try to play and smile at the same time.(spoiler-she can't do it) Finally she said "why don't we just do this?" and posed. Her posing skills have come a long way in the last four years.
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_SryOUtTQUhALLbR54UDZqaGAVz6MgOA684TTj1CBjZEg8AL50IUrIkX2WQLUQa9lUXjXma1VXK7gbaOYVlURmu6M798clhaIwbMemnYMvxCbYImlktM07Uw3Wq9IHX6AeUuwUBlgh-w8/s1600/IMG_7808.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_SryOUtTQUhALLbR54UDZqaGAVz6MgOA684TTj1CBjZEg8AL50IUrIkX2WQLUQa9lUXjXma1VXK7gbaOYVlURmu6M798clhaIwbMemnYMvxCbYImlktM07Uw3Wq9IHX6AeUuwUBlgh-w8/s400/IMG_7808.JPG" /></a> </div>
<br />
I thought it would be a good idea to have a picture of the two of us together (see above) so I gave it a try but self portraits with the big camera are rough. By the time I got one with myself actually in the frame the strap on my camera had snagged a few bow hairs and Ziz was like "Mom. Really?" I was planning to try it again with my phone but I got distracted and it never happened.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6ZKM5U22Y4uoElvkbe23PJvz8vQvoK231fy6wTypBzw4T1ccS18Kg1OlaOyUyeHWcUsdwlCT6zcxaZTJBEc5PojHiyStISM9vZB9PKzrCq6sVbvYFRu8JV6zMsNvf1iJfDUsvmn3RIAp/s1600/IMG_7811.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6ZKM5U22Y4uoElvkbe23PJvz8vQvoK231fy6wTypBzw4T1ccS18Kg1OlaOyUyeHWcUsdwlCT6zcxaZTJBEc5PojHiyStISM9vZB9PKzrCq6sVbvYFRu8JV6zMsNvf1iJfDUsvmn3RIAp/s400/IMG_7811.JPG" /></a> </div>
My gift wrap selections were a big hit. Enzo said that when his birthday comes he want's his presents to look just like that. I still have that roll of faux bois paper and another set of woodland creature tags so I told him it's on.
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2IUgbLGS21Lyi50W8m7a8FvPgyShIar_SiEcFwrMYabnNepZkEgfF_iGXt9Za3fKe65-acJlojrX-LV_v6hhsbljKEdzVTEOYMevJMNY2pF-au5eXk5Xbh_EQ35qvoj_Gc6ITCUpvHh6-/s1600/IMG_7812.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2IUgbLGS21Lyi50W8m7a8FvPgyShIar_SiEcFwrMYabnNepZkEgfF_iGXt9Za3fKe65-acJlojrX-LV_v6hhsbljKEdzVTEOYMevJMNY2pF-au5eXk5Xbh_EQ35qvoj_Gc6ITCUpvHh6-/s400/IMG_7812.JPG" /></a> </div>
For the reccord: Ziz really liked the wrapping too. She's all about the woodland creatures. I bought that wrapping paper from the dollar spot in Target a few weeks ago just because I liked it. I thought I'd use it for baby showers or one of those kind of things where you actually wrap something to be pretty rather than just so the kid will have something to tear on their big day. Well, Zizza saw it and asked me to use it for her birthday. Done.<br />
<br />
Hopefully she was as happy with what was inside the presents. I'm pretty sure she was happy this evening when she opened them because she is not so big yet that she's learned to be gracious such that we wouldn't notice if she were disappointed. Still, there were a few things I know she was hoping for that she didn't get (namely a bike basket. We couldn't find one that would fit her bike) I hope she's not retroactively disappointed next time she rides her bike.<br />
<br />
We decided to split the cake from the ice cream for this birthday. Actually she's not even having cake, she's having monkey bread with cream cheese glaze on the side for dipping. That's going to happen when she celebrates with friends on Friday. We ate the ice cream tonight. Even without cake we felt like we needed at least one candle to mark the day.
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiElvi6hjEqXaNBJeBZ3X0LIWDe0jKTb-8EfKVRJtSCR1ngEartR_SBAg2mndopr7UvamlNq7Qilev6npO4xGJQCc2xDyes3OQg0wD7L7TlAO0ufiVetBBdfYuKo1dECcVIxJW2PqJFMUmB/s1600/IMG_7818.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiElvi6hjEqXaNBJeBZ3X0LIWDe0jKTb-8EfKVRJtSCR1ngEartR_SBAg2mndopr7UvamlNq7Qilev6npO4xGJQCc2xDyes3OQg0wD7L7TlAO0ufiVetBBdfYuKo1dECcVIxJW2PqJFMUmB/s400/IMG_7818.JPG" /></a> </div>
<br/>
Happiest of Birthday's to my angel baby girl. I count my lucky stars I get to be her mama.
Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-83523649407432211772012-10-22T21:01:00.000-07:002012-10-22T21:01:01.364-07:00MummifiedYou'll never guess. We did yet another Halloween craft.<br />
<br />
We used <a href="http://cfabbridesigns.com/craft-projects/mini-mummies-2/#.UHZ2XcXLSTz">this tutorial</a> and made mummies. I actually had a package of that very gardening wire she used sitting around in my stash waiting to be needed.<br />
<br />
The kids all tried wrapping their own mummies but I ended up doing all but the middle of Zizza's. Even she had trouble with hands feet and head.<br />
<br />
Today I decided to hold a mummy Yoga class because what else are you supposed to do with a group of pose-able mummies?
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh_jxN5bHeRlEqufDQdHCcjJUvWKzCGFcocAWQt5cIFMgBiXY7SOG4pyO1jQ1dLLyLobF49SevIAi3PSeeMw2wYxlh7Vrr_16PXJb10NXPBVE8LaQ3RME5_VbG_bbG3PfhbJ1Ei1Y6kDy1/s1600/IMG_7798.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh_jxN5bHeRlEqufDQdHCcjJUvWKzCGFcocAWQt5cIFMgBiXY7SOG4pyO1jQ1dLLyLobF49SevIAi3PSeeMw2wYxlh7Vrr_16PXJb10NXPBVE8LaQ3RME5_VbG_bbG3PfhbJ1Ei1Y6kDy1/s400/IMG_7798.JPG" /></a><br />
Tree pose </div>
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAK6gloLygApbrXPsp-MbfiFZ8LDsquJ6PgD75KoZ8xbQ56OYLFqPWTUK3atpRZdKbh2h6dLRwywTWUB9seicsKzuU04YOp52hGelOJKuLEfB6QDwyqgCBiYIaw7YZbtvdZsMRoPt3W65i/s1600/IMG_7799.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAK6gloLygApbrXPsp-MbfiFZ8LDsquJ6PgD75KoZ8xbQ56OYLFqPWTUK3atpRZdKbh2h6dLRwywTWUB9seicsKzuU04YOp52hGelOJKuLEfB6QDwyqgCBiYIaw7YZbtvdZsMRoPt3W65i/s400/IMG_7799.JPG" /></a><br />
Triangle </div>
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj576twSDSN15iEf5JvAvUY4nT27puIoz4qw482BW2MMY1gxvnYvZY3ZO-tJonlVwJUmEZ-KgwcLh0Kbqck3zo7_IaaqEIQwqdpmNeBRuNrUe9OamEwUQFPipFXfnUtXAWVB0TciGONr7U8/s1600/IMG_7800.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj576twSDSN15iEf5JvAvUY4nT27puIoz4qw482BW2MMY1gxvnYvZY3ZO-tJonlVwJUmEZ-KgwcLh0Kbqck3zo7_IaaqEIQwqdpmNeBRuNrUe9OamEwUQFPipFXfnUtXAWVB0TciGONr7U8/s400/IMG_7800.JPG" /></a><br />
Down Dog</div>
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxKXEcwAm5y5u9Z2b8rp2WY8KgFiZEdOpehugZlmzlwrtxMPBZAYZRKy1x0AL0q2uLoQws0ghVOB-eWGEU-hIQtVLKWyZ2uhc2tmxpjc5PVPy-RLdaXrAwjuwWPyVPlaMCtOCnXBiD0rT/s1600/IMG_7801.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxKXEcwAm5y5u9Z2b8rp2WY8KgFiZEdOpehugZlmzlwrtxMPBZAYZRKy1x0AL0q2uLoQws0ghVOB-eWGEU-hIQtVLKWyZ2uhc2tmxpjc5PVPy-RLdaXrAwjuwWPyVPlaMCtOCnXBiD0rT/s400/IMG_7801.JPG" /></a><br />
Warrior II</div>
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCatJfGQxX5JjjToFTET8koTPwDHIyS0dkZb_EZNb79RaViIZfDDVXgR7mWjuk1dYE1e3bo7ulC7XYsEFSDDuZ8q88z3t6xfUNTL2KVRyTdF9citwuLdg0NNUqVbVDSJh73u1KuIW9Bfth/s1600/IMG_7804.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCatJfGQxX5JjjToFTET8koTPwDHIyS0dkZb_EZNb79RaViIZfDDVXgR7mWjuk1dYE1e3bo7ulC7XYsEFSDDuZ8q88z3t6xfUNTL2KVRyTdF9citwuLdg0NNUqVbVDSJh73u1KuIW9Bfth/s400/IMG_7804.JPG" /></a><br />
Warrior I (my favorite pose)</div>
Duke's mummy, as you can imagine, is the littlest. He loved it on that first day. He carried it in his tight little fist and became rather distressed when, after going about his business mummy in hand, the little linen fellow (ok fine it's actually a cotton poly blend from an old bed sheet) got so bent out of shape as not to be recognizable.<br />
<br />
Reluctantly, Duke surrendered his little friend to me for re-forming and once it was done he'd be happy again. We went through this process quite a few times before the mummy got to be old news and was left to practice his downward facing dog pose in peace.<br />
<br />
Now, in closing I'd like to say this: Make mummies guys! It's lot's of fun and really any old wire will do if you haven't got the fancy plastic coated stuff. The EndEvahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-54499708315293071512012-10-19T13:42:00.003-07:002012-10-19T13:45:15.754-07:00spigotEnzo comes down stairs. "Hey Zizza guess what the thing where the water comes for the hose is called...a spigot! Spigot spigot spigot!" <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"You turned on the spigot when we were working on the <a href="http://uniquety.blogspot.com/2012/10/working.html">fire pit </a>and mama wasn't looking." Zizza answered him this time with a "wha?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"The spigot," said Enz<br />
<br />
"Spicket?" Zizza wonders.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Where the water for the hose comes from. Spigot." He tells her</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Oh," said Zizza. "OK," </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Spigot!" shouts Enzo. "Let's go look at the spigot!" and out he runs to the back yard to admire the lovely spigot.</div>
Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-19516625137120754012012-10-18T21:06:00.003-07:002012-10-18T21:06:41.087-07:00FunWe set out on Fall break thinking maybe we'd go somewhere. Then we thought maybe just spend a night in a local hotel because obviously that's fun. <br />
<br />
<br />
What it cam down to was "Super Fun day!" and today was it. We went to the park (and not the neighborhood park either) we went out to lunch, we saw "Hotel Transylvania" and we did a craft.<br />
<br />
I'm tired.<br />
<br />Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067138821368120428.post-72340730739100004272012-10-17T21:51:00.001-07:002012-10-17T21:51:09.037-07:00progressGuess what guys. I met my sewing goal today.<br />
<br />
Moo's costume sewing it totally done all that's left is to buy her a pair of black leggings and a long sleeved black t-shirt. I also may fashion a pair of antennae if I have the time. (She's a purple butterfly. Wings are a go)<br />
<br />
I showed Enzo the rendering I did of the<a href="http://uniquety.blogspot.com/2012/10/oh-dear.html"> rainbow and gold ninja</a> a while back. He LOVED it. Luckily Zizza's powers of costume indecision persuasion were still at work and by the time I made it to the fabric store she'd talked him into being twinners with her so they're both black ninjas with gold belts. I still have the masks and belts to do there. Also, maybe tabi boots but those'll have to wait until after I take care of the Duke who's costume will remain a surprise for the time being. Just know this: It will be Awesome. (yes, with the capitol A even)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Evahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12494870909109745579noreply@blogger.com0