The Mutiny Month 4 Day 1: Media

As you may or may not recall, we are working our way through “7: The Mutiny” with our Hope Group. Here’s a little “overview” if you missed it when we began.

Thus far, we have made it through, I mean experienced…Food, Clothes and Possessions.

And now, today, we begin Media.

Food was by far the toughest…but we are already back to eating all the things we were really sick of by the end of that month. Choosing what to make for dinner became a real breeze. I kind of miss that.

Wearing the same 7 articles of clothes for a month wasn’t too terrible and even the day after we were finished with that fast, I found myself still wanting to wear the same things. Plus it made getting dressed in the morning uber-simple. Granted, we didn’t include workout clothes and jammies in our 7 articles, and with an urpy (putting it mildly) baby in the house, those were gifts we were thankful to have.

Possessions: I don’t think I even wrote about this one. Mostly b/c I wasn’t doing much writing, but also because I don’t think I did this one as well. I know I gave up the designated amount of 196 items (for my math-impaired friends, this equals 7 items a day for 28 days) but I know there is much work yet to be done in that area so I will continue to wade through my possessions.

Which brings us now to Media.

We decided not to skip the two weeks between fasts this time…mostly b/c we are so shallow as to not want to miss all the Christmas specials and such; staying the course, we will finish this month on December 19, just in time to squeeze in all those movies before December 25.

So clearly we still have some heart issues which need to be addressed…and I put myself at the top of the list of “who needs the most work”.

So what is the point of this month? My interpretation of the chapter is that it is to spend time in prayer, Bible study, and with family NOT staring at a screen together. Not that it is bad to watch TV or a movie together, but if that is your ONLY family time, it might be a problem.

Sorry if you feel judged…it’s not my intent. Mostly it’s about my/our conviction. Your conviction is totally on you. And God...I advise you to take it up with him.

So what are our rules? I won’t even tell you her rules because they are kind of cray-cray. We, as a group, we bent some, and then I bent them even more. So here are my rules, in no particular order:

• I am refraining from Facebook (OK, I am allowing myself one visit and possible post to it per day…but even then it might not be even that often. I shall try…)
• No Instagram.
• We get seven hours of tv/movie time/week. We are not holding our kids to this (as in my family is not…I don’t know about the other families, actually), but we will not be watching TV together as a family every evening. We might have to bust out the euchre cards again. Wahoo!
• Email as need for family business, work, etc. No superfluous emailing.
• Same goes for texting. (Ugh…I am not sure how I will survive. How did I live prior to the text?!?)
• I knew that I would be so filled with blog ideas in these 28 days that I could not take my blogging away…but I don’t plan to READ any blogs during this time. Which actually won’t be too too different from what I have been doing since The Little Man arrived, but still. I am intentionally refraining rather than simply being too busy.
• Radio…I am choosing to only listen to Christian stations or Christmas…which should overlap but doesn’t always. I don’t think Dominick the Christmas Donkey is one we’ve ever sung in church. I could be mistaken, though, so don’t quote me on it…
• No gaming…which is not a problem for me. Which may be why I included it.
• We are allowing 7 minutes/day of superfluous internet access, which will be when I load my blog post into Blogger. (And check my FB.)
• Also, I am not considering online shopping for Christmas in my 7 minutes a day…the way I figure it is this: if I can shop online and not have to either a) drag 1-3 boys out shopping with me, or b) go in the evenings or week-ends when Mr. AR is home, this will exponentially increase the amount of time we get to spend together so it seems like the “broken rule” that makes the most sense.

So with that, I will wrap up by telling you how I have failed in this experiment already. On Day 1.

When I was doing Christmas shopping online, my 11yo was watching “Elf” in the adjoining room…I tried not to listen but I couldn’t help it. Technically I didn’t “watch” it but I’ve seen it so many times I could picture it all in my mind. And maybe say the lines along with the movie. Don’t judge.

When we took the boys shopping at the actual mall (yes, I online shopped and then made them actually go to real live stores), I tried to get on the wifi to check Facebook…because I forgot about “7”.  Fortunately, the connection was slow so it never did connect.

But as I sat there waiting for Mr. AR and the 11yo to meet up with us, I sat mindlessly watching a TV that was set up there…because I couldn’t get on the wifi. So 6 of one, half dozen of another, right?

So yeah…it might be a long long month. If I have time, I’m sure you’ll read all about it. Lucky you!

Who Doesn’t Love the Can-Can?

OK, just to be clear, this post will have absolutely nothing at all to do with dancing.

Mostly because we don’t dance, but that is another subject entirely. Envision Elaine and you’ll envision me dancing. It is not pretty, people.

And I suspect that you already knew that…but I like to be clear. Crystal clear.

This is about my foray into canning. Which I did with two of my dear friends from college. OK, one is from college; the other one is from Kindergarten. So yeah, we've known each other for a while. Like 35 years...which is amazing since I'm only 27, right?

And how would you, if given a whole week-end with friends you don't see often, kick-off the week-end? If you're anything like me, it's with a lesson on canning.

I know, I know...this post about my canning escipade is way-late in coming. 

And no one is more disappointed about it than me. For the love…we canned last Thursday. And today is Tuesday.

Don’t judge.

And I may still be tired from my week-end. Three consecutive days of “busy” is apparently more than this 40yo can handle.

Again…don’t judge.

So anyway…I had my first canning lesson. Courtesy of my friend CM…who cans. But not usually in the larger quantities and with a large pot of water with which we used.

I am not faulting her in any way but man! It took a while to heat that water…which is the hugest understatement I have ever made. Like 1.5 hours to get it to boil.

1.5 hours.

That’s 90 minutes, in case you are math-impaired.

And by then, we’d lost so much of it to steam that we had to add more water, which meant we had to wait for it to boil again.

But we did it. We canned some cucumbers.

Which means we made pickles and relish too, actually…lest you be confused.

Or if I say something about canning pickles, you know that the process began with cucumbers (or “cukes” as they may be referred to from here on out) and ended up with pickles…clear?)

But I have to wait 2-3 weeks before they will be “pickled”.

Argh...I am not a patient person. Have you heard that already?

So I won’t know for at least 2-3 weeks if I’m going to get botulism or not.

Just kidding…I know I won’t.

OK, at least I hope.

I might be eating the first bit from each jar with my fingers crossed. And a tiny bit of fear and trepidation.

Although one slight hope I have is that CM assured me that with all the vinegar in pickles, it is highly unlikely that botulism will be able to sustain itself and grow.

So that’s comforting.

Anyway…we began with 8 pounds of pickling cucumbers.

And yes, we washed them all.

Now I am going to list for you all the things I learned (and can remember…I am certain that there was WAY more than this) during our canning process; these are in no particular order (because I am certain you will not be trying to attempt any canning based on the information this one-time canner has to share…if you are, I may have to rethink our friendship b/c it wouldn’t be a bright move on your behalf):

• You have to use the pickling ones b/c they don’t have a wax on the outside. These came from a farmer’s market, although CM said you can sometimes find them in a grocery store.
• Also, please note that they (the original cukes) don’t have a long shelf life; you should buy them the day of or the day just prior to use. Otherwise you’ll have to cut out a lot of bad spots.
• Once you can something it should last for about a year...but maybe more...I'm really not up on all that. Should I write the date on the top of my lids? I think perhaps I should...
• And speaking of bad spots, you have to cut out any bad spots you see prior to canning…otherwise that bad spot will fester and rot out any other cucumber in the jar.

At least that was my understanding…I may be off. Either way…I tried to be diligent in my cutting out of the bad spots.

• You may slice the cukes/want-to-be-pickles any way you choose; we (as you will see) opted for the longer sandwich slices.

 

• When canning, you have to use a pot large enough to have an inch of water over the top of the jar once they are submerged (that seems like an awkwardly-worded sentence, but you all know what I mean, right?) And you have to keep them submerged for ten minutes.

• You can make as large or small a batch as you want, and you can even use a smaller pot, so long as the water covers the jars by an inch.
• When you remove the jars from the water, they should make a “pop”…that’s how you know that they are sealed. If they don’t pop within a few minutes, you can try it again. But twice is the most you should do, at least with that jar. It is possible/probable that there is a defect in the jar. We had such an incidence happen…one of the jars I bought at the Goodwill (for 25 cents apiece on Half-Price Saturday) had a tiny little chip out of the top. No worries…I can still use it for a craft (I know you were all concerned on my behalf and I appreciate that!) but we can’t can with it (see what I did there?)
• After you fill a jar, you have to wipe the lip of it before you put the lid on top.

• You can only use a lid one time; if it doesn’t seal, throw it away (or save it for a craft as I may or may not have done) and get a new one. You can reuse the jars and rings as much as possible.
• You have to boil the jars for 10 minutes before using.
• And there’s a really cool pair of tongs you can use to pull the piping hot jars from the molten-lava hot water. I know it’s this hot because I (in a moment of over-zealousness) stuck my whole hand in the boiling water to retrieve a jar. I mean, I had tongs in my hand, but I had a momentary brain-fade.

Don’t judge. The skin will eventually grow back.

I’m kidding…it was actually fine. My cat-like reflexes caused me to pull it back out of the water before I realized what I had done.

Thank you, God, for reflexes.

Musical Interlude (because I know you were already thinking it):

• You put the cukes in the jar and then make the brine on the stove, letting it simmer for 10 minutes.  (Are you sensing a theme…a lot of this is “ten minutes”?) Then you pour the brine over the top.

Some of our brine-making ingredients

• Don’t forget: We also made relish. Eight jars of relish. Two were dill and six were sweet. The relish you make the brine and let it simmer, then you add the diced cukes and let that simmer…then you dump the whole thing into a jar. Which is not as easy as it sounds, when the relish is hot. And this also meant (because one was sweet and one was dill) that this necessitated two separate brines.

We don’t make things easy around here, apparently.

You can use a food processor to cut up the cukes for relish. I don’t own a food processor (Gasp!) so we cut them by hand. Our dicing skills left a little something to be desired, so our relish is very, oh, how do you say? Chunky. It’s chunky relish. But I know it will be tasty. (Please see above photo for the diced cukes...)

In the end, I won’t even tell you how long this process took us.

Ok, twist my arm. It took is about 6 hours.

We may or may not have gotten wrapped up in chit chat. More than once.

And two of the three of us were rookie canners.

Don’t judge.

Now that I am a licensed professional (ok neither part of that is true…I am neither professional or licensed…I don’t think they license for canning, BTW, so please do not contact your local licensing agencies and try to become licensed in canning. And if you do decide to try, don’t mention my name, please), I am ready to try canning again.

Which is fortunate because Christine has some green beans she asked me to help her can TOMORROW. Can (see what I did there…oh, canning humor is so uncanny.) the timing BE any more perfect (Insert Chandler Bing voice)?

Clearly she didn’t get all the details on my canning experience before she asked for my help.

Details on that can-can are forthcoming.

  

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Missing My Cue

Editor's Note: Please refrain from editing this too closely as you read along...I did go back and re-read it, but with tired eyes and ones which may or may not have missed typos, mistakes, etc.

Don't judge.
____________________________

So I would be remiss if I neglected to tell you all that I am not enjoying my week all that much.

Overall, that is.

Parts have been ok...even dare-I-say nice. I've spent time with friends; I got to sit beside a pool which was by a lake and chat with friends; I got to chat with a friend on the phone (you know...the original intended use for a phone?). Aare you seeing a theme here?

All that to say...parts have been good. Where I am running into the "not enjoying it" part is that I have been spending a lot of time alone when I am at home.

For an introvert, that should be a good thing, right? But when the introvert wants to spend time with her family, (aka being a little extrovert-y), she needs the family to be there.

But they have not.

All last week, the boys had camp; when the 11yo came home from his daycamp, he needed time to be alone. (He's my introvert).

And even when my extrovert came home from his week at church camp, he needed to decompress...alone.

Fine. Be that way.

I may or may not have handled it well.

And you may be wondering why I am talking about last week when I was complaining talking about about THIS week.

I'm laying the groundwork for perhaps WHY I am so bothered this week.

Now this week, Mr. AR has been serving at the church each night (long story: local mission trip experience for High School Ministry at our church...the kids stay there all week...including at night...and they run a daycamp at the church during the day.) Mr. AR is spending the evenings with the teens...eating dinner, hanging out, doing devotions, all that stuff.

Which means he's out the door early for work and then home late from church.

It's only a week and totally do-able and I am really not complaining (too much) even though it might seem like I am (ok maybe a little bit but I am really ok with it...it's not for forever).

Plus, I thought I would have the PBA here to keep me company.

Ha!

Monday afternoon, the 11yo had a friend over to play and the 13yo went to a sleepover surprise birthday party.

Tuesday evening, the boys had a friend spend the night.

Thursday evening, the 11yo is spending the night at a friend's house and the 13yo is playing outside.

Friday afternoon the 13yo is having friends over.

Saturday night the 11yo is going to a birthday party sleepover.

So you see...I've been mostly alone in my own house.

For those of you who would give their leg to have some time alone in their house, I apologize. I'm certain you cannot relate and for that I am sorry.

I was you just a couple years ago. There's plenty of time for this to come around to you.

And frankly, I don't know what my point is in telling you all that was except it is possibly to make you feel like you got your money's worth from this post.

More words = more value.

So...tonight, as I said, the 11yo is spending the night at a friend's house. Through a series of events which I will omit form this post so as not to disparage my child, the 11yo is grounded from video games.

You don't need to know details.

I reminded him of this as he was going out the door...because otherwise he may or may not have been fuzzy on the details and parameters of it.

And yes, trust me that I realize that he's been grounded from video games and not from friends. Right now, I find the video games to be a bigger issue than the friends, although the conversation printed below may or may not prove me wrong on both counts.

A couple minutes later, the 11yo returned. He's told his friend that he was grounded from video games. And he then proceeded to narrate their conversation back to me:

The friend: That's ok...we can just play them in secret.

11yo: No, that wouldn't be right.

The friend: It's not a big deal; I won't tell.

11yo: Well, my mom's going to tell your mom that I'm grounded, plus it wouldn't be the right thing to do. (drops his head and looks at the floor...summoning up TRUE remorse)

Me: You're exactly right...it wouldn't be right. Thank you for making that choice.

(Silence and HUGE pregnant pause)

11yo: Mom! You missed your cue! You were supposed to say "I'm so proud of you for making that choice that you can play video games tonight!"

Me: Ummmm yeah that's not going to happen.

11yo: Well, I figured but it was worth a shot...

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Skivvies are Not Clothing

So…this week I am (for the most part) footloose and fancy free.

And no, I am not holding high school proms in barns with the assistance of Kevin Bacon. I’m certain you know what I mean.

But here’s a musical interlude for you, because that quintessential song has undoubtedly popped into your head. Feel free to listen as you read the post. Or stop and watch the whole thing...it's entertaining, for sure. (My 11yo's comment about it was "What in the world are they wearing?!?")

My 13yo is at church camp for the week...I am certain, though, that you knew this, as you undoubtedly read my blog faithfully each day. And I (without intent…seriously, though you may have your doubts) signed up my 11yo for Pacers Basketball Daycamp this same week. 

So from 8:45 to 2:30 every day, I get to make my own schedule.

“So what have I been up to?”, you are surely asking.

Well, on Monday I spent the day with my mama. We went to Starbucks and then to an outlet mall where she bought me some clothes. I lucked out that my 11yo only wanted socks the last time she took the PBA shopping, so she spent his share on me. Thanks, Mom! Oh…and then we had frozen custard for lunch. 

Don’t judge.

On Tuesday, I went to the gym (where I could workout without the added bonus of the 11yo asking every 2 minutes, “How much longer?”) and then met a friend at Starbucks (the one inside the local Target…and yes, you are seeing a theme. I also went on Thursday and have plans to meet another friend there today as well. No worries...I have a gift card!) and we cruised the clearance sections while chatting and sipping our beverages.

I had tucked in my purse before I left the house a few Target-specific coupons: one for a half-price frappuccino (only good at the Target Starbucks), one for BOGO on spray-on sunscreen, and one for “$2 off Women’s Apparel Item”.

Well, I knew the Starbucks coupon would be no problem to spend. My only potential stall-out was actually looking at the calories listed for each drink. (Because I know you want to know, I did get the coffee frappuccino with non-fat milk…which was the cheapest one and also the lowest calorie count. I did get some whipped cream on top, though, which probably blew the whole thing out of the water. Don't judge.)

Now, the sunscreen presented more of a challenge. It was also a Target-specific coupon which I had (somehow) received in the mail a few weeks ago. It was for a new sunscreen by Coppertone, and it was offering them BOGO.

If you know anything at all about spray-on sunscreen, it is one of the best inventions of the 21^st century. (Maybe I exaggerate a bit...a hyperbole, if you will...you all remember that term from high school English class, right? I'm certain you do...but I digress. That spray-on sunscreen stuff…it’s pretty awesome). 

But it is also kind of crazy-expensive. So a BOGO (let me pause here and explain BOGO…Mr. AR only recently learned what that meant so I shall presume that someone out there reading this is also a bit in the dark. BOGO=Buy One Get One.)

Anyway, I'm certain you can see why this coupon was a real boon.

But it did take me/us a while to find it in the store.  (And yes...I put my friend to work. Let me pause here a moment and offer just a word for all of you out there who may ever consider going shopping with me: I don't mess around and if you go shopping with me, prepare yourself to possibly be bossed into searching for things, trying on things, holding things, etc. It's not easy to be my shopping friend; not for the faint of heart, for sure. Consider yourself warned. Only the serious need apply.)  Target had sunscreen available for sale in about 8 different places.

When I did find it, it was not on sale, but I bought it anyway (gasp!)…it was $6.99 for one, but with the coupon, I got 2 for that price.

Spray-on sunscreen prices being what they are, I thought it was reasonable. I learned how reasonable when I later that day went to both CVS and Walgreens. And because I am just like that, I checked their prices on the same sunscreen.

Yes, I’m living on the edge during my “free time” this week, aren’t I? Don't judge.

At CVS, one bottle was over $10 (not on sale). And at Walgreens, it was "on sale" for 2/$19 with $5 back in Walgreens cash or Register Rewards (or whatever they call it).

For that price, this stuff should automatically reapply itself every 2 hours.

All that to say, Target did me a favor.

But I am certain you are still wondering about my last coupon…I still had my “$2 off Women’s Apparel Item” coupon burning a proverbial hole in my pocket. I must tell you (in case you were unaware) that often those kinds of coupons from Target give a stipulation: $3 off $20.,. or something to that affect.

I don’t want to spend a stinkin’ 20 bucks (pardon my language); I want to see how close I can get to the $3 and spend as little (or no…that’s a totally different level of shopping high right there) money as possible.

So…this $2 coupon was a rare find.

Feel free to shake your head at the mere fact that I know that. I am a little embarrassed about it myself.

But not embarrassed enough to still try.

And trust me: my embarrassment level in this story has not reached it max just yet.

My goal for the day: find a women’s apparel item for as close to $2 as possible.

It is goals like these which have gotten me to where I am in life…clearly.

We searched high and low through the clearance racks. I have to admit…Target Clearance was kind of letting me down yesterday. I wasn’t finding any deals…even in the 70% off clothing racks.

So I decided to switch gears and check out skivvies and socks.

Hey…who couldn’t use an additional pair of skivvies or socks?

Well…the regular price of individual skivvies was $5. That seems a little crazy to me.

But then I stumbled upon some clearance ones. They were $2.50 each.

I supposed I could suck it up and pay 50 cents for a new pair of skivvies. Plus I didn’t see another way I was going to fulfill my goal.

And it’s all about achieving the goal, right?

So…in my cart I had my BOGO sunscreen and my $2.50 skivvies.

Oh...and one banana. I didn’t mention that earlier b/c I didn’t have a coupon for it. Frankly, I only needed one banana; please let me explain: My 11yo needed to pack lunch every day this week for camp and I didn’t quite have enough bananas for each day. He wouldn’t have one on Friday and Heaven-forbid he not have fruit in his lunch (that’s me driving that train, not him)…and since I wasn’t going to go to the grocery until Friday, I was trying to rectify that “issue” before then.

All that to say, I didn’t realize how odd my assortment of purchases appeared until I put them on the belt: one pair of skivvies, one banana, and two bottles of spray-on sunscreen.

Yeah…you can shake your head at that. I know I did.

Anyway…the real fun was about to be had. The cashier scanned my items. And didn’t even comment…thankfully.

Then she scanned the coupons:

BOGO sunscreen? Check.

$2 off Women’s Apparel Item? Nope. “Item not found”.

Cashier: This one won’t work (showing me the coupon, as though I had not seen it before: remember, lady…I’m the one who just handed it to you?).

Me: But I bought a pair of underwear.

Cashier: (silence)

Me: (silence)

Cashier: (re-reading the coupon) Well, they mean, like, clothing.

Let me pause right here and submit for your perusal the coupon…does it give any stipulations about what is included or excluded? Does it say “no clearance” or “no skivvies or socks”? No…it does not…because I read my coupons carefully, so as to avoid such issues at the check-out...especially when it comes to such items as skivvies, because no one wants to be standing at the check-out register at the target, haggling over the price of a pair of panties.

And yet...I found the courage to soldier on.

Me: Isn’t underwear clothing? (now turning to the woman in line behind me, looking for some solidarity; I received none. But I did get an eyeroll from her, so that was good. It made me miss my boys.)

Cashier: No, not really…

Me: Well then what is it?

Cashier: (silence)

So there we have it people…breaking news from the Target checkout: skivvies are NOT clothing. We don’t know what they are, but they are most definitely NOT clothing. Or apparel.

And because I am certain you wanted to know, I then had her remove the skivvies from my purchase…I was already in up to my chin. Why not finish myself off...no way could it get more embarrassing. 

This action also warranted an additional eyeroll from the customer next in line.

So my coupon lives to see another day. Frankly, it only gives me another excuse to go back to try my personal challenge again.

To quote Arnold: I’ll be back! (Because there are so many similarities between me and Arnold Schwarzenegger...this is just one.)

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Cleaning Up Part 5: Homemade Floor Cleaner

Well, you have all most-assuredly been wanting me to share more homemade cleaners with you.

OK…probably not…as you more than likely have not utilized the last ones I gave.

But I have decided to share yet another one with you. I waited until I had tried it twice before I was certain I could give it a thumbs up.

Two thumbs up actually.

It is a floor cleaner. You have already discerned that via the post title. I don't care what people say about you: you're quick.

You may recall that last year, after Mr. AR installed our laminate floors, my grandma let me have her floor steamer. “It’s not steamy enough.” Great…for me that is.

And I even wrote a post, expounding on the beauty of said steamer.

But now…it has bitten the dust. I thought the same thing happened which had just happened a few weeks ago…water got inside some part that it should not have and kind of messed with the sensor which told it to heat the water...it's all very technical. I was a technical writer in my first job out of college...can't you tell? (Just a quick little science lesson for my readers at home and any homeschoolers who might have happened to stumble upon this: when water is heated, it becomes water vapor…one of the 3 forms of water: solid, liquid or gas. When it becomes this hot vapor, we call that “steam”. This is the very basic definition…for more insight, you’d better Google it. I can’t provide you with EVERYTHING you need to know.)

So…it didn’t know that it had water to heat, let alone heat the water. So I am referring to it as defunct.

But…being the cheap one that I am, I didn’t rush right out and buy a new one. No...I actually had the “spray and mop” contraption from my in-laws. When my MIL moved into her apartment, she no longer had laminate flooring and said she didn’t want the mop. Well…who am I to question that judgment?

I didn’t need it at the time, but brought it home anyway. And it has been sitting in my utility room for almost two years now.

Until a couple weeks ago…when my steam cleaner broke.

Well, the chamber for the cleaning solution was already full...residual cleaner from my MIL, apparently. And I tried it. But it left my floors all streaky. My floors were streaky BEFORE I mopped, so you can imagine that was not the look I was going for AFTER they were cleaned.

So I Googled (imagine that) “cheap homemade floor cleaners” and much to my delight, the one below was included in the search. I looked at some others but did not try them…so there very well may be better ones out there. But I liked the first one I tried so I’m planning to stick with it.

Now, because I am certain you are all ready to get those mops out (any kind, actually…I have one like this, but you can use an old fashioned mop. Or a squeegee mop. Or just whatever. Have at it. Be creative…just like I know all of you are! Send me your photos…I’ll post them on my blog!)

OK…I have digressed enough. Here’s the recipe…for real this time:

Homemade Floor Cleaner
Ingredients:

• 1 cup water
• 1 cup vinegar
• 1 cup alcohol
• 2-3 drops dish soap (Palmolive, Dawn, etc.)

Optional Additional Ingredients:

• 5 drops lavender essential oil (I used lavender…so I’m always so relaxed when my cleaning is through…)
• 5 drops orange essential oil
• 3 drops tea tree essential oil
• Fine-mist spray bottle - 24oz (of you don’t have a mop which will do the spraying for you, or if you don’t want to put the solution in a bucket)

Instructions:

• Add all ingredients to spray bottle and shake to combine.
• Sweep/vacuum the floor.
• Spray cleaner on the floor.
• Wipe up with a microfiber cloth (it was very clear that it had to be microfiber...these can be found at the Dollar tree for...you guessed it: one dollar).

Note:

• Do a spot test to make sure this will work on your floors…I make no promises that it will work as well for you.
• For a mop and bucket version, try this: For a gallon of water, you could try 1/2 cup of vinegar, and 1/3 cup of alcohol, plus a few drops of dish soap.

Happy mopping!


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An Open Letter To My Neighbors (And Anyone Else Who May Need Firewood)…

So, for the most part, I do believe we are pretty good at sharing. Sure, we have our moments (everyone does) in which we may be reluctant to share that which we have been given in abundance (or sometimes not in abundance).

I don’t say this in a braggart sort of way. I am simply saying this: if you need something that I have, I will gladly share.

Because I know if I am not gladly sharing it, then I don’t get credit with God…no “God points” for a good deed is not even worth it. I might as well NOT do the good deed if I’m not going to get God points.

I am joking…it doesn’t really work like that.

At least, I hope it doesn’t. I do not recall a verse in the Bible which lays out the rules in such a way, however, I have not memorized the Bible so it honestly could be in there and I simply do not recall it.

But I digress.

We will share. All you have to do is ask.

ASK is the key word in the sentence.

I feel I must push "pause" right here, but please stick with me...I promise to bring it back around: Again...not to brag, but we work hard for our firewood. As you may recall...but you probably don't and do not feel badly if you don't; I still love you. I realize that it's also possible that you don't have any idea about that which I am speaking...either way, I shall give you a brief synopsis: each summer, we drive to a friend's house in Cloverdale (which is about an hour+ away), cut down a tree (maybe 2...depends on the size), drag it back to their house, chop it (with a chain saw...these are no small trees) into smaller pieces, and then run those pieces on the splitter.  And then stack it all in the truck. And drive it home where we unload it and restack it in nice neat piles/stacks behind our house...which is where we continue our story, already in progress.

My point here is this: if you are having a bonfire/campfire/fire-pit event at your house and you find that you don’t have enough firewood, just ask us if you can have a couple pieces from our stack of wood. I assure you that we will gladly share.

Do not, however, send your children with flashlights through the backyards to steal it from us.

And if you are not sending your children to steal it, but send them to “go into those trees and find some wood to burn” but they return just minutes later with nice-sized pieces which have obviously been cut (but you did not send them with an ax)…you should probably ask a few questions.

We only know about two definite times that this has happened, but I would venture to guess that it’s been more than that.

That’s purely speculation on my part, but since we’ve lived here 9 years, I cannot imagine that there have only been two occurrences, happening years apart.

Because it was the same kids.

The first time, their dad found out and brought us a bundle of firewood which he purchased to replace it.  We found the replacement of the wood totally not necessary…acknowledgement on the part of the kiddos would have sufficed. Which actually did not happen.

And not to turn this into a diatribe on “How to Parent”…because I know we all have our own way of doing things and have to do what is best for our own families.

I get that completely and do not claim to be the best parent in the world, or know the most or whatever.

But…our thought has always been that we thought the kids who stole the firewood should have acknowledged it and apologized. It is definitely what we would have had our children do…agree with me or not, but it’s what we would have done. The whole “owning up to your mistakes” kind of thing…not in an “embarrass the kids” way at all. I don't want to shame a child...just want them to own up. I think there is a difference and it is all in the way it is handled.

Again...different parenting styles. I get it which is why we never asked for the kids to apologize.

But last night my husband saw the same kids do the same thing. He was taking the dog out, when he saw the flicker of flashlights bouncing around and he heard children’s voices talking about “getting firewood.”  And he watched them boldly walk right up to the pile and each take at least one sizeable log.

He didn’t say anything…I think he was too stunned. He waited for them to come back…but they never did.

Just in case they or someone they know is reading this though…please be advised that he will be ready for you next time.

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Fashion Forward

My 12yo is really beginning to spread his fashion sense wings. I shall reserve comment on what I think about some of his choices because I KNOW that my parents reserved judgment.

Or at the very least, they reserved comment.

I look back at photos now and wonder, “Why on God’s green earth did they let me wear THAT? Out in public, no less?”

Because they were letting my spread my fashion sense wings.

And I even though I look at these pictures and cringe at some of my choices, I am thankful that they let me be my own person and express my creative spirit.

You are undoubtedly wanting to see a picture, and I am refraining from sharing. There are too many things on the internet which should not be there, and pictures of me in the 80’s is one of them.

OK, because you demanded it, and because I am all about giving the people what they want, I’ll share a photo of from my childhood, clearly demonstrating my sense of fashion. And yes, it's in the 70's.

Feel free to oooo and ahhh. 

Overall, I think I have come out ok (with the exception of sometimes wearing maternity clothing when not pregnant…), but otherwise, I’m somewhat fashion neutral, sometimes forward.

At least I try to be forward and not behind. Although last year I had someone tell me that I had an “80’s Vibe” to my clothing…I still think about that comment, as I don’t entirely know what that meant, but I don’t think it was a compliment.

I did not make a retaliatory comment, just in case you were wondering. I thought it but refrained from letting it exit my lips. I try to let people dress how they dress. If they ASK for my opinion, I give it. But if they don’t ask, I keep my trap shut.

My parents may still keep reserving comment, though I have tamed things down from middle school/high school.

To be fair (and this is no excuse in any context, but I do hear a lot, often from celebrities): “It was the 80’s!”

OK, and EARLY 90’s…when we came into the “Grunge” phase…a whole closet full of flannel shirts and a big movie poster of “Singles” in my college dorm room.

Don’t judge.

But I’m not here to talk about my fashion tragedies…I’m here to talk about my 12yo’s fashion sense wings.

Last week (I think it was last week…maybe two weeks ago)…he informed me that he had seen kids wearing this certain type of shoes lately and he wanted to get a pair.

As he described them, I asked, “Topsiders?”

“Yeah, I think that’s it.”

Later that same day, I was at the mall (as an aside, I really dislike the mall and don’t even know why I was there, other than, more than likely it was because I had “free money” to spend with my “Shop Your Way” rewards offered through Sears; I find that more and more I prefer Salvation Army to the mall. Don’t judge.) and just to confirm our conversation, I took a picture of some Topsiders and texted it to him.

Yes, that was what he wanted.

However…he added one additional piece of info…he said kids were wearing them with Nike Elites.

Hmmm…that sounded hideous, but again…reserving comment. Not judgment…just comment.

Over the next few days, I kind of forgot about the shoes, and he didn’t mention them again.

Until yesterday when we were at the mall. We happened to be in Sears (where I had taken the picture of the Topsiders). While I was looking at house wares, the 12yo asked if he could go and try and those shoes.

Sure…knock yourself out.

When I finished up with my shopping (which ended up in me not making a purchase, lest you were wondering), I wandered over to the shoe department.

And found him trying on a pair of these:

Oh, be still my heart! They are my FAVORITE kind of shoes in the whole world. I only have four pairs but they are the best.

Yes, a little worn...especially the blue ones...I believe I've had them since college...so yeah, a couple years.

When I began gushing about these shoes (clearly, I’d lost my filter), he all of a sudden no longer wanted them. 

And he was shocked...SHOCKED, I tell you, that I owned A pair of them, let alone four pairs, in spite of the fact that I wear them ALL.THE.TIME. (And who says he doesn't pay attentiong to details? Sorry, my future DIL...I am trying!)

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Yoga Pants

So…I never thought this would be true but I must confess that I LOVE me some yoga pants. And no, I don’t do yoga. Ever. I work out at the gym in said pants, but it’s never yoga.

I just had to put that seemingly random piece of information out there for you…I’ll bring it back around in a moment.

At the preschool where I used to work (and sometimes still have the blessing of getting to substitute) we began a “clothing swap”…which wasn’t really a swap because you didn’t have to leave something in order to take something.

It is a “take as you have need” kind of thing, actually.

It was…let me back that up…it IS a wonderful ministry opportunity for people in so many ways…both the givers and the receivers.

Now I won’t lie…there were several things which were donated which I had my eye on. But because I am not in NEED of them, I never took anything until the end of the last day, after all the other families were gone.

Often what I thought I “needed” went to someone else. Which is exactly as it should be.

Well, last week, I subbed on Thursday (which is the last day of the preschool week, lest you be confused) and it so happened that there were still quite a few items left after the families had picked up their kiddos. I was helping the Assistant Director bag up all the leftover items (because we can’t leave them out over the week-end…that would make the church look a touch messy on Sunday mornings) when I spied a couple pairs of yoga pants.

And they looked practically brand new! Wow…what a score! They looked like something that would fit me (don’t look at sizes, girls…just look at how things fit you…this is what I am trying to learn for myself; you should learn it too).

So I took them home and tried them on…planning to bring them back to “redonate” (yes, that’s a real word) the following week if they didn’t work out…

Imagine my delight when they fit. AND (I am well-aware that I told you NOT to look at the size, but I accidentally glanced down at it)…they were size SMALL!

I was shocked! I knew I had not lost weight recently and had frankly NEVER been in a size "small" and could not fathom how this was possible, but ok…I was claiming it.

Then I washed them up and put them on the next day for the gym. I thought, as I straightened them out, “Boy, this waistband is higher than most…that is nice…I don’t feel like I will always have to be pulling them up because they are a ‘low rise’”…which is something I don’t really comprehend in yoga pants, but then again I am not a designer. Perhaps with good reason.

When I got home from the gym and was hoping in the shower, I REALLY noticed the tag. “Small Maternity.”

Well…there you go…apparently I wear a size small in maternity pants. Which is information I do not currently need and hope to NEVER need again.

And perhaps I should rethink the whole “not look at the tag theory” as well…

Now…because this post wasn’t as funny as I had hoped (or maybe it just wasn’t that funny to me), here’s a little Tim Hawkins for you, singing about yoga pants. Pardon the filming on this one…I chose this lady’s version because in the intro, Hawkins was talking about homeschoolers. Imagine that…

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Dear DILs: Some Amends

My Dearest Future DILs,

I apologize that it's been so long since I last wrote to you...although I am certain that you won't notice the large time gaps by the time you read these….and you CERTAINLY will read them.

However the other random stuff  I doubt that you will ever read…but I feel that I need to make a couple amends for my post yesterday.

Yesterday was National Chocolate Chip Day. If you know me well at all (and since you are my DILs I pray that you do know me well...and in a good way), it will not surprise you that the PBA and I celebrated the "holiday" by making chocolate chip cookies.

But in the midst of my writing about the experience, I believe I inadvertently disparaged them a bit. I didn't mean to...it kind of slipped out in my frustration.

I believe that the frustration was of my own volition and in the future will try to remember to attempt kitchen home ec as a one-on-one lesson experience.

For the sanity of all parties involved.

I promise you, sweet girls, that I truly am trying to help these boys become the men God desires them to be and the husbands you deserve. I figure that if I can help them learn their way around the kitchen, all the better for you. And them, before there is a “you”.

Now…here’s where my amends come in. I have to tell you that they do possess a skill which I believe/hope/pray that you appreciate and are thankful for: they can do yardwork.

This includes, but is not limited to, mowing, weed pulling, and bush & tree limb trimming. I am certain they can do much more…I just don’t know about it.

Because frankly, I am inside the house. I have passed off the “to do” list to Mr. Always Random and shuffled inside to write (or perhaps bake) in relative peace.

Don’t get me wrong…I love to have them around, but I have figured out that they have so much to learn from Mr. AR as well. For the record, I am perfectly capable of doing it all: my father taught me. He didn’t have a son, and someone else needed to be out there mowing the lawn. Plus I wanted to learn…he paid me to mow.

Money: always a great motivator.

I did not pass that advantage along to the boys…nor do they need to know that I was paid for such a service in my own home. I am quick to tell them, when asked about such things, that they are compensated by having a roof over their heads and food in their bellies.

Yeah…I’m THAT kind of mom. Feel free to parent in the same manner…so far, it’s working out for me. Time may tell differently but for now, it’s my plan of attack.

But I digress…I was touting the skills of the PBA’s lawn care prowess. What they lack in terms of culinary skills they atone for in lawn care.

Yesterday, both I and Mr. AR (independent of and unbeknownst to one another) informed the PBA that the lawn needed to be mowed by the end of the week-end.

As an aside: In an attempt to help them with their time management skills, we assign a task without a deadline and allow them figure out when might be the best time to tackle said task.

It’s a work in progress.

And while they may be handy with yard work, they don’t seem to notice in advance that it needs to happen. As I would say even to Mr. AR: The y-chromosome is strong in them.

I’m working on it. In all of them. (Don’t tell Mr. AR that I included him in that.)

But…going back to this week-end…it was going to be slightly tricky to get that mowing task in. The 12yo has a soccer tournament, and the 11yo has a lacrosse tournament. Fortunately for us, they are both in the same side of town (though not the same town…that rarely ever works out, so make a note of that for future reference).

Just to add in some superfluous information for you: it also means that we are leaving about 6:30 in the morning and won’t be home until about 7 tomorrow night. Sunday is an immediate departure from church to head to the tournament…which means mid-late afternoon return home.

Who wants to mow after playing 3 soccer games?

Oh…and I failed to mention the on and off rain showers we’ve been having. It is spring in Indiana, so we’re not really surprised, but still…makes for a difficult time of getting the lawn mowed.

Thankfully the rain stopped long enough this afternoon AND the sun came out so they could get the mowing accomplished.

And not only COULD they…they actually DID get the mowing in.

AND I witnessed something that I didn’t know they even knew how to do: the 12yo knew how to fill the mower with gas. And how to start it.

And the 11yo also knew how to start it (they take turns with the mower since we only have one mower…I’m certain you didn’t think that we had two, but just to clarify…this is actually what brought about my epiphany earlier regarding baking with only one child at a time; if they are not working together things run more smoothly. Note to self: work on teamwork skills, but not in the kitchen.)

AND the 11yo also knew to put the mower away when he was finished. Plus, there are things which have to be moved in order to get the mower out, he knew to put them back as well.

Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition! It is a seemingly-small victory, but really it isn’t. It is another step on their journey for self-sufficiency. And being ready to take care of a wife. You are welcome.

In the meantime, though, I think we need to celebrate…good thing I already have some chocolate chip cookies made.

Love,

Your Future MIL

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Getting the Crown I’m Due

Well, I kind of have a lot to say in this post so pull up a chair.

You have undoubtedly been wondering what is going on in our household within the realm of dental work. 

Am I right? I mean, come on! Who ISN’T dying to know about our dental work?

Well, let me tell you: the 11yo is doing just swimmingly (his word…no lie…this IS my son) with his braces. He’s all but forgotten about the major surgery he had just a few weeks ago. The crazy-crooked canines (not to be confused with the ones my foster daughters apparently thought Indy would use to bite them…which, as an aside, he most assuredly did not…he just has a horrible underbite that makes him appear ferocious) are pulling up into position so nicely. The braces themselves are not a hindrance in any way, even in lacrosse with that lovely mouthguard he gets to wear.

The 12yo is still waiting for a couple baby teeth to come out so he can get HIS braces. You know, because it’s that whole “rite of passage” kind of thing. We all remember reading “rite of passage” stories in lit class in high school, right? Or maybe that was just me paying attention in class.

See, Mrs. Baxter? I did learn something!

I don’t, however, recall reading a book in lit class in which a character (main or otherwise) getting braces was a rite of passage, but still…I’m certain that you understand.

Well, yesterday, I took the PBA to a new dentist. I did so somewhat begrudgingly…I LOVE my former dentist. I won’t say he's my "old dentist," but he IS a grandpa.

Just sayin’.

I have known him for years.  I babysat for his children. He came to my wedding. We still go to church together.

I LOVE him.

But he’s retiring soon. And he sold his practice. And the new guy…I should probably be more respectful…the new DENTIST…he doesn’t take our insurance.

To be fair, my former dentist may not have taken it either. We didn’t have dental insurance for years and years and years…instead we paid for visits out of our flexible spending account (not that you needed to know all that but I felt compelled to share; I sometimes give out more information than necessary, in case you didn’t know).

But NOW we have insurance. And after yesterday, I am glad. And all kinds of thankful.

I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Just a little foreshadowing for you. (Again with the lit terms…look at me go!)

I prefer to NOT know if my former dentist would have taken our insurance so I can make the break with the office a clean one and only having to reference the insurance issue and not make it personal.

But since I’m all about being honest…I don’t love the new guy. And I am OK with leaving that practice.

Since January I have been hemming and hawing about finding a new dentist. I was having trouble finding one which took my new insurance.

What good is insurance if you can’t find a doctor who accepts it, right?

Well, and to be honest (which I always am), I needed to find one who accepts our insurance AND one which a person I trust recommends.

I’m not too picky, am I?

Well, I finally listened to my friend SV. You may recall that I have mentioned her before…she has the same initials now as she did before she got married. And she didn’t even meet her husband in her homeroom class or anything…because seriously. What are the odds that you can grow up with a last name beginning with the letter “V” and then marry someone (who you did not know from high school homeroom) whose last name ALSO begins with “V”?

I think she should play the lottery....because how lucky is she that she didn't have to change all those monogrammed sweaters, right?

Anyway…she recommended her dentist. So I called the office on Tuesday. And they got us in on WEDNESDAY.

Which was a little unsettling…I thought to myself, “Are they just not that good/busy that they can get us in the NEXT DAY?”

Because as I may remind you…it was for me AND the PBA. So 3 of us. Three next-day appointments.

Hmmmm. I had my doubts. Sorry SV…I wasn’t meaning to doubt you. But I kind of was (Look at that honesty again).

But I did not act on my disbelief…I decided to give it a try. The 24-hour cancellation policy was kind of what did it for me.

Don’t judge.

So…long story short (ok, shortened): I was ah-mazed with this place. Lovely. Friendly staff. Didn’t make me feel rushed like they had somewhere else to be, or dumb for asking questions.

And very high-tech. Which I found to be somewhat intimidating. I’m sure they didn’t catch on to that at all.

But I won’t go into all that flashy stuff. I am here to tell you about our dental issues as of late.

The boys got x-rays and cleanings and all that fun stuff.

I got the same treatment. Mine took the same amount of time as the two of them. I’m sure it wasn’t because I was busy chatting with the friendly hygienist.

I really should get out more. I think the hygienist was thinking that too.

On top of all the excitement of making new friends (I am certain the hygienist will be calling me to grab some coffee with her soon), I must tell you that yesterday was the end of an era, my friends. Yesterday I was informed that I do, indeed, have my first cavity.

My first.

Ever.

Yes, I said my first cavity.

In fact, I was so over-zealous in my break of this streak, that I have not one, not two, but three cavities.

Three.

And one of them needs a crown.

I almost cried.

OK, maybe I did.

To be fair, they are tiny cavities. Excepting the one needing a crown.

A crown.

I keep saying it so that hopefully it will eventually roll right off my tongue.

But as of yet, no; it still sticks in there like a popcorn kernel that’s been spot-welded on a tooth. You know what I mean.

I asked him "Why, oh why would I get three cavities NOW? After 40, I mean, 27 years without?" (OK, maybe I didn't say exactly that...but I was thinking it.)

He wasn’t sure, but he did have some thoughts on the one needing the crown.

I shall back up and describe that one for you though…it’s my back molar. And the cavity is on the back edge…not between the back two teeth. It’s in the very back.

And the hygienist’s little scrapey tool went right into my tooth. I was so thankful I didn’t feel that. Fortunately the cavity isn’t to the nerve. Yet.

They took pictures (and x-rays but I found the photos to be cooler…don’t judge) of my teeth so I could see the rot.

I won’t lie…it was gross and fascinating. He asked me about my wisdom teeth…he said, “This might sound strange but were they on their sides?”

Me: Um, yes, they actually were.

Him: Well, it looks like maybe the wisdom tooth over here was sitting on top of this molar at some point and rubbed against it, pitting it out and making it prone to getting a cavity.

Me: Awesome.

So…he went on to explain that since I have the same affliction as my 11yo…that being “the world’s smallest mouth”, and that it is at the very back, he was not confident that filling it would be effective, especially for the long-term. He said a crown would be better but it’s up to me.

Argh. A crown. Makes me a little sick.

Why? Pride. I have pride issues. For some reason I enjoyed the “no cavities status”. And now that’s over. It’s sad isn’t it?

I’ll confess it. I feel a little, ok a lot, sad about it.

Would you like to see a more interesting word than “sad”? Ok, I am full-service: I am feeling melancholy, gloomy, dismal, glum, miserable, despondent (ok, that last one is a little strong, actually).

But mostly I am just sad.

And do we remember what I do when I feel sad, gloomy or despondent?

I eat.

I am an emotional eater.

Which brings me to another point: what better way to celebrate three cavities at one? Buying a bucket o’ ice cream at the grocery on the same day.

Now what was it again that he asked me regarding the amount of sugar I eat?

I’m not really sure…and Christine, in case you were wondering, I am certain that my Tootsie Pops fix at soccer games have NO bearing on my recent tooth issues either…

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