It's Coming

The days are getting longer!

Is there any phrase more delightful than that? It carries with it the promise of spring and beyond spring, that queen of everything, summer.

The return of green grass.
The end of the snow.
Capris.
Flip-flops.
Wading pools.
Picnics in the park.
Bike riding.
Flowers.
Bubbles on the deck.
Popsicles.
Little boys in ball caps.
Hopscotch.

Tim Horton's Ice Caps. 
Freshly cut grass.
Road trips.
Late nights on the deck.

Hamburgers on the grill.

Dandelion chains.

I have come to the conclusion that summer is even sweeter when you've made it through winter.

It almost makes winter worthwhile.

Almost.

Cooking With The Geek

You know what I realized the other day?  I never do recipes on here.

There is a good reason for that.

I'm not really that great of a cook.  Oh, I can do the basics and don't ruin much, but due to limited budgets in times past, a husband who once threatened to throw out my cookbooks if I made too many new dishes and two very, very busy boys, I don't spend a lot of time puttering and experimenting in my kitchen.

However, as I was making my absolute favorite drink the other morning I thought it would be a shame not to share it with you.  If I can do it, so can you.  It's cheap and easy!  What could be better than that?  Starbucks is now selling these but you can do it at home for a fraction of the cost!  And you don't even have to get out of your jammies.

So without further ado (and trust me, that intro was a whole lot of ado aobut nothing) I give you, 

The London Fog.

Let's get started.

All you need is milk, An earl Grey teabag and Vanilla syrup.  I use the fancy Starbucks stuff because while their drinks are overpriced, their syrup is surprisingly not.  That big old bottle is 10 bucks.  And you can buy it at the drive-thru.  You don't even have to get out of your car.  BONUS. 

 

Now, pour the milk in a microwave safe mug.  Just look at those mad photography skillz.  

Pop that baby into the microwave until it is nice and hot.  If you are like me, you want it to burn your tongue when you are done.  If you are along the lines of Way Cooler, 30 seconds or so should do you.

Now you want to add the syrup.  Just a little splash'll do ya.  You can make that bottle last forever.  

Finally, dunk the teabag and let it steep for a couple of minutes.

Voila.  Happiness in a mug.

You're welcome.

Metaphorically Speaking

I am beginning to think I might blog too much. Let me tell you why. The other day I was out in the garage getting something from the van. It was chilly, but quite tolerable without a coat. Then I opened up the garage door and waves of cold rolled over my poor shivering body. It only took a second or two for my insulated garage to turn just as cold as it was outside. Which was colder than should be legal.

As I stood there courting hypothermia I kept thinking, this would make a great illustration for a deep blog post. I ran through all kinds of metaphors in my head.

This is the best I could come up with. If you open a large garage door in the middle of winter, you will cool down your garage.

Deep eh? I really am considering a career in motivational speaking.

My point? When you start looking for metaphors in a sub-zero garage, maybe it's time for a new hobby.

If I buy your product will you leave me alone?

Ever since we moved to our house, I have been dealing with a new phenomenon to me. Door to door salespeople. I'm sure they are lovely people when they aren't working, but most of the ones I have encountered recently are a 1000x's more annoying than Barney (the purple dino not your uncle) singing "I Love You".

I never quite know what to do with them. Up to this point in my life we have lived in basement suites, (where the door was hidden in behind) the top floor of a locked condo building, in a very undesirable part of Fort Worth and then a small town of 1500. Not a lot of salespeople bother at any of these locations.

But now, they seem to zero in on me with alarming frequency and none of them are very good at subtle hints that I might not be interested, such as me saying, "you know, I am just not interested right now" or "I don't want any, thank-you". I've had more than one follow me into my open garage (these fellows caught me when I was outside) and one guy grabbed the door as I was trying to close it!

The two that really do stand out in my mind however were Juan and Steve. Those really aren't their names, they did tell me them, but I wasn't paying attention.

Juan was trying to sell me educational material for my children, but English was not his first language and he kept murdering it. He was trying to show me grammar books, but all I could think was, "you need these waaaay more than me buddy, maybe I'll buy you one!"

Steve was my personal favorite. He was tattooed, pierced and wearing cologne. There's nothing wrong with any of those things, you just got to know when to stop and he didn't. He was trying to sell me a home alarm. There are some things I will never buy from a stranger on my doorstep, Fresh fish, speakers and home security.

Seriously buddy, you look like someone I saw on America's Most Wanted, you are in my garage uninvited and you don't understand personal space at all, yet you want me to let you into my home to wire my alarm? Sure, right after I pierce my own tongue.

Now, if you sell things door to door, don't be offended, I am sure you are a lovely person, just please, don't come to my house!

Mommy's Nite Out

Last night was mommy's night to finally get the much-needed haircut and indulge in a little retail therapy. Whoo-hoo. It was a fabulous night!

I couldn't get the lady I had cut my hair before who had finally given me my first decent haircut in this city since we moved here 1.5 years ago.

I'll have to post about some of my other cuts some other time as they really are post-worthy, let's just say after one, I looked like I had let a cat just chewed my hair off randomly.

Anyway, I got a new lady who was really good too and unbelieveably gentle. I hate it when they brush your hair and it feels like they are pulling it out instead of just cutting it with scissors. Plus, my cheap little heart was utterly delighted to find out she was 8 bucks cheaper than the other lady! That alone made my night!

You know how when you get your haircut sometimes they style if for you? Well, I usually watch carefully to try and recreate that at home, which of course never happens again no matter how hard I try! So, as usual last night I was watching but it became apparent very quickly that in order for me to do that with a brush and blow dryer I will have to become a cirque du Soleil contortionist, or at the very least grow a third arm. So, I just sat and enjoyed knowing that for one night, I would look good. Really good. So good that I kept finding myself admiring myself in the various mirrored posts throughout the mall. Then I realized how unbelieveably sad that is, and made myself stop.

So, since I had such a great expereience and saved 8 bucks, I decided to splurge and get my eyebrow waxed so that I would have eyebrows. Let's just say, I knew it wasn't going to be as gentle as my haircut when I sat down and the lady shoved my head back against the wall. I understand the whole concept of waxing isn't a gentle massage, but this woman made putting the wax on hurt. that did not bode well for the removal. I think my brows will stop swelling sometime around Spud's 10th birthday.

It was a wonderful evening of re-charging, browsing and mirror-gazing! I even got jeans for 15 bucks at Old Navy. My cheap little heart just can't stop singing! So bring on the poop, the snot and the toddler tantrums, I'm ready again!

I love Sundays

I really do enjoy Sundays. When I was a kid my parents instilled in us a sense of needing to slow down and not work on Sundays, we didn't do homework or even much housework Sunday. That's quite gone by the wayside, I remember in Texas doing laundry Sunday morning because all the other students in the building would be at church and the machines would finally be free! For those of you shocked, we went to church Saturday nights. But I seem to mentally slow down, even if not physically.

Sunday is still a special day in my mind and this morning at 6:30 as I sat and cuddled a sleepy 18 month old and his everpresent Teddybear I couldn't help but think how blessed I am. Both of my boys are healthy, I have a lovely home, my hubby works really hard so I can have a life of leisure (choke choke sputter) and there is nothing nicer than cuddling your baby at 6:30 (except maybe having him sleep till 8:00 and then cuddling him).

Today was great for a lot of reasons but my two favorites (and then I need to get my cute little behind into bed) were that we swam at the Y so we showered the boys there because a day without baths with cranky slippery boys is a very good day!

The best part of the day was sitting in church and reminding myself that God loves me, he's bigger than me, and really I am blessed.

So good night, may your Monday be as good as my Sunday.