So, Last Night Was An Adventure...

No recipe today.  I'm a mess.  I didn't sleep much.

John saw a flyer for fishing lessons at Marsh Creek.  It's a beautiful lake about 20 minutes from our house, tucked away among some rolling hills and beautiful farm/ranch properties.  The class was provided by the fish and boat commission, so it was free and available for all ages.  We signed up, learned a lot, and caught 11 fish between the six of us.  They were all small bluegills that we tossed right back, but it was still so much fun!

I was helping Kid #2 untangle his line and all of the kids had their toes in the water, but true to his absolute fearlessness, Kid #4 meandered across the rocky bottom further out from the shore.  I sternly told him "no," which did little more than slap an impish grin on his face as he turned and tried to run out further, only to trip and go under.

The next thing I knew, I was putting his soaked little self on a picnic table and patting his back while he coughed and gagged a little.  The commission official walked over to see if we were ok and the kid just smiled a big smile at him like what just happened was no big deal.  Just like him to do such a thing.  I could utter little more than "Thank you, Jesus!" the whole way back to the car, where I put him in some of the clothes that were in the donation bag in the back of our car.  I just stayed soaked, trying to wrap my head around what happened.

This morning, I did remember more details about the blocked-out part between seeing him disappear under the water and putting him on the picnic table.  Sadly, it's images of my son, eyes wide open, submerged and struggling to get his head above water.  I haven't had my release about it (usually a good, hard cry or furious tantrum about something stupid), so my neck is all tensed up and I feel like a big, hot stone is sitting on my throat and chest.

He didn't "almost drown" like I blurted to my parents over the phone last night.  He couldn't have been under the water for more than two seconds, and likely only a second.  He probably could have regained his footing and popped back up above water if I'd given him another second or two, but I wasn't going to wait to find out.  Either way, I'm this mess of confusion today, between "stop being a drama queen and get over the what ifs, because he's alive and fine and just be thankful for that" and "oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit, he was under the water and everything could have gone so terribly wrong and he'll still probably get sick from swallowing the water or getting one of those brain-eating amoebas, oh shit oh shit oh shit!!!"  My apology for the expletives, but that's how these thoughts are manifesting.

Kid #4, on the other hand, slept like a log, waking up only once to cry about the fastener tape on his diaper coming undone.  He's fine.  He's in my lap as I type this, trying to push buttons on the printer and get himself into his typical daily rounds of trouble.  It's like yesterday didn't happen for him.  I want that to be me!  I want it to be done so that I don't break down about it while we're out later, notarizing the kids' homeschool papers and shopping for back to school supplies.

I can just see it: the notary asks for my ID and I just lose it, sobbing and laughing at the same time while I insist that nothing is wrong and I'm mentally competent to homeschool my kids, even though one of them could've drowned in a lake last night.

Ugh.  I need to throw up or something.

EDIT: I just read yesterday's entry.  Can I call it, or what?!  So many expletives!!!  This kid...  Oh my stars and garters...

Because It's Monday!

Greatest single educational chart on Earth, right?

Tonight, the kids are taking fishing lessons at Marsh Creek.  It's free, it's practical knowledge, and it gets us into the great outdoors.

Time to look up the back hold on a Moby wrap, because Kid #4's human wrecking ball talents probably won't bode well where a giant lake is concerned. 

Oh Sweet Mercy, It's Only Thursday?!?!

When I woke up this morning, I was astounded that it was already Thursday.  This week is flying!

Then I began to think of things that needed my immediate attention:
Check and see if the mister was paid yet.
Check student loan #3 to see if payment was processed.
Call dentist's office and make another installment for Kid #4's surgery.
Pay water bill.
Pay sewer bill.
Copy the school district tax bill.
Mail original bill to our mortgage company.
... ad infinitum.

You get my point.

Suddenly, "it's already Thursday?!" turned into "it's only Thursday?!?!"

Feeling defeated before I even began, I flopped in front of the computer and opened Pinterest.  This is what greeted me, front-and-center:

I don't know why, but it immediately registered the day's pending tasks rather than a particular person.  My to-do list gets on my nerves.  So make these things sanctifying and every last gray hair they summon from your scalp will be a badge of courage!

Boom!  Pinterest and Facebook were closed immediately.  The phone's buttons nearly melted under my purpose-driven fingertips.  Bills were paid.  One bill was negotiated in half!  Homeschool papers and forms for the district were filled out, typed up, printed, and ready for notarizing.  Some laundry made it into the mix and was resolved.  Louis even went down for a nap an hour earlier than usual.

All of this, and it's just now noon.  I'm feeling particularly accomplished.

I have a ton left to do, but I have a plan with wiggle room necessary for any kid-tastrophe that might develop.

The icing to this decadent cake is that the weather is immaculate today.  Mid-70s temps, a cool breeze, low humidity, and some slight overcast make for rather heavenly surroundings that have bolstered my resolve to make things happen.

Thank you, Jesus, for today's sanctification!

Dirty, Dirty Windows...

The house...  just...  ugh...

I still have a TON of work to do for the mister's company.  I'm still incredibly grateful for it.

My house, on the other hand, is not grateful for it.

I have the basics covered: kids are fed and relatively happy, meals are made on time and not ordered from a drive thru, the laundry basics are done (though Mt. Washmore is looking more and more like a pimple compared to the current pile I need to address), and the kitchens remains under control (a shock to all of us, believe me).

What is funny to me about me is that I tend to gear straight towards a solution when a problem arises.  My son's autism diagnosis was met with me parked in front of the computer, tearing through information and anecdotes, chat rooms and doctors' listings, therapy forums and at-home options to exhaust myself in how to help my son.

When the husband and I fight (so blissfully rare!), I focus directly on resolving the issue.

When work for the husband's office needs doing, I immediately carve out time to do it.

When our budget needs adjusting, I cut out non-essentials without a second thought.

When the kids are angry, hurt, or fighting, we fix the problem right away.

But when my house needs to be cleaned, I magically think of a million other tedious non-issues that need my immediate attention:

"I'm sorry, I can't fold the mountain of laundry that has consumed our couch because I need to devise a grocery list!"

"I can't organize my eyesore of a sewing desk when the kids' books need to be shelved in a more pleasing manner!  I can't, I tell you!"

"The kitchen is a post-apocalyptic scene of destruction and disarray?  I'd better make cookies in the midst of it all!"

"The whole house screams to be purged and organized!  I'd better hurry to Target and buy back-to-school supplies right away!"

Alas, today I will work to overcome those urges and create a space that will greatly minimize the stress that is slowly squeezing my brain into utter paralysis.

In the mean time:

Story of my life as a domestic engineer.

C is for Cookie

As I mentioned a few entries back, a friend from grade school paid a visit with her family this past Saturday.  I don't know why I seem to always do this, but I tried a new recipe just before their arrival.  Contrary to what history would suggest, it was a complete success!  And the gluten-free goodness of it all had me ready to pump out another batch ASAP.

Sadly, common sense won that battle and I have yet to make another straight-to-my-thighs batch.

Still, it's so very worth a share!  And don't let the "vegan" label scare you.  They're freakishly good.  The coconut oil lends a hint of coconut flavor and the maple syrup gives them a wholesome and robust sweetness that sugar just can't match.

Vegan Chocolate Chip Cookies

(a variation of a recipe from Elana at elanaspantry.com)

2 1/2 cups of blanched almond flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 cup coconut oil

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

1/2 cup maple syrup

1 cup semi-sweet or dark chocolate chips 

(I used Enjoy Life brand because they're nut, dairy, and soy free)

1. Combine the dry ingredients in a large bowl.

2. In a separate, smaller bowl, stir together wet ingredients.

3. Mix the wet and dry ingredients together.

4. Form 1 inch balls and press into a parchment-lined baking sheet.

5. Bake at 350 degree for 7-10 minutes.

While it negates the "vegan-ness" of the recipe, serving these with a big scoop of vanilla or coffee ice cream makes for a rather glorious way to end the day!

DO NOT, DO NOT, DO NOT substitute carob chips.  Carob chips are hideous.  Whomever thought carob chips were a good idea must've spent their childhood snacking on burnt plastic popsicles and raw sewage milkshakes.  Carob chips rob the world of true, pure, delicious joy.  They are good for absolutely nothing.  I wouldn't line a hamster cage with them.  

The added bonus is having the kids help without so much as a raised eyebrow about them licking utensils and fingers after the fact.

Ok, I never raised an eyebrow about them licking raw cookie dough before, eggs and all.  I'll add it to my list of things that made me a terrible mom when it comes time to reminisce about these days. :-)

A "Meme Collection Reflection" on Health

I do not like to run.  I do not like it, Sam-I-am.

It's more like "I came crawling back sobbing after 2 minutes," but you get the idea.

"Top shelf" margs, no less!

And even that would be after careful consideration of the possible pain endured at the hands of what's chasing me vs. the pain and effort of running.  Seriously.

Probably your best bet.  And mine.

Truth, truth, and still more truth.  Ask my fabulously fit, El Salvadoran sister-in-law.

But it's not like I don't work out ever.  I like to lift when I'm feeling particularly guilty about last night's intake of gluten free cookies (which are awesome enough to feature as Tasty Tuesday's recipe tomorrow).  I like to walk early in the mornings.  I like to plank...  sometimes...

Through all of this, I like to think I'm becoming more and more health conscious.  I've torn through science journals and articles on the effects of the agricultural revolution on overall human health.  I'm not anti-agricultural (hello, I'm trying to convert my entire front yard into an edible garden before next season), but I am worried about the widespread dependency on convenience foods and over-processing of otherwise healthy staples.  I'm also trying to temper my zealous crusade on all things food-related with practicality and common sense to avoid the yo-yo trap, which has aided my aversion to working out in keeping me sidelined in FatAssville.  Well, that, and the translation that is lost somewhere between my eyes and my stomach...

True story, folks!

Luckily for me, some healthy choices have been turned into healthy habits:

And one more for my spectacular cache of offensive jokes!

Wednesday's What Now?

As soon as this post closes, I'm blowing off work and cleaning this house.  I have a Spotify music list ready to crank, the TV will be unplugged, and snacks will be administered 5 minutes before blitz time.

Tomorrow, a friend is coming over with her teenaged son and we're going to spend the morning cooking.  She's interested in doing gluten free, but she's a single, working mother, so we're going to give a few "convenience" foods a shot at making the regular menu.  We're going to try our hands at breakfast muffins (eggs, veggies, and meat baked in muffin tins), paleo biscuits and tortillas (coconut flour for the win!), BBQ pulled chicken, cave ketchup, paleo bread (almond flour, FTW!), and we'll give "riced cauliflower" a whirl.

Then I'll be preparing the house for a visit from a friend from grade school.  We had the most amazing chance meeting shortly after I had Kid #1.  My husband was doing some research for his Masters Degree, so I walked with him to get out of the house and take our new baby to get some sunshine.  A woman stopped me in the hall and began cooing over our newborn.  Then a small gaggle of twenty-somethings surrounded me to see the baby.  One of these girls remarked, "Aw, he looks just like my son with that blonde hair and blue eyes!"  I looked up and was utterly stupefied to see Loretta, a girl I haven't seen since the 8th grade, looking as gorgeous as ever.  I, in all my surprise, blurted out, "Oh my gosh!  Are you Loretta?!?!"  She was surprised I knew her, but once I told her who I was, we had a tremendous laugh at the mind-blowing chance of it all.  I spent that afternoon at her house, catching up with her and her mom, who was there to help with the baby.  

We attended grade school in Colorado for three years together before the Air Force moved her family out to Ohio or Virginia.  We lost all contact with one another until that day (almost 9 years later!) in a small Ohio college, and we've managed to stay in spotty contact ever since.  Well, her family is in DE, about an hour south of us, so we're finally getting our families together.  It should be fun!

But, before I can get all excited and finalize any of those plans, I have to get the place cleaned.  Cue the music!

Did You Catch That?

Did you see that I posted a "Thursday's Thoughts" last Wednesday?  Yeah, that's how things are going.

Ugh.

Anyway, today is going to be full of phone calls to our medical providers for ID numbers.  I'm filling out paperwork to switch up our insurance plan.  It's tedious, but completely doable.  The most frustrating part about all of this is that we get to spend the upcoming year scrambling for coverage to buy as my husband's Catholic company makes tough decisions in light of Obamacare.  This may also lead to having to switch medical and dental providers, which may totally throw our budget and schedules off the rails as our coverage and impending surgery plans change.  Note my enthusiasm...

I also have to crank out some work for the mister's office.

Days like this find my kids being babysat by the TV.  I hate that.

I'm so grateful for the work, and even more grateful that they are a family-friendly company who understands that I spend a good chunk of my days just trying to keep the kids alive until tomorrow.  My husband must talk a super-sweet game about me at work, because the people at his office love to compliment me on the amazing job I do at home and with the kids and for the office.  My response is usually one of confused gratitude and we laugh together.  They laugh at my clueless humility and I laugh because they must be insane to think I have it together.

Most of my days are like trying to tame a troop of kangaroos on meth.

For example: there is a pile of laundry on the couch that has been folded FOUR times.  I get about half of the load folded before catastrophe hits in the form of a butt needing wiping or a snack needing providing.  I go and put out that particular fire, only to return and see Kid #(any) has made him/herself a nest of fluffy clothes in which to nap.  I'm faced with the internal dilemma of letting them sleep (hooray for free time for me!!!) or waking them up and correcting their behavior while they wail about the injustices they endure at the hands of their mother.

Nap.  Always.  Wins.

And I haven't stopped the flow of laundry, so some gets folded, more appears, it all gets messed up, and repeat.  My husband did the dishes the other day.  I saw an empty sink for the first time in weeks!  Don't get me wrong, the dishes are in a constant state of doing and there are always clean dishes for our needs, but the rotation of cupboard-to-table-to-sink-to-dishwasher-to-cupboard NEVER ends, much like our laundry.

One of these days, for a very brief and sparkling moment, everything will be done!  Until then, I'd better keep truckin'.

Thinkin' Things...

My mind is a jumble of things that need to be done, the importance of each thing, long term, short term, overdue things...  I can barely type about it without it feeling like my thoughts become a ball of yarn stuck in a lawn mower.  See?  Even my analogies don't make sense.

I'm trying to crank out some work for my husband's company because the extra money is needed, like, yesterday.  Quarterly bills have come pouring in (insurances mostly).  The house screams to be completely gutted of stuff.  I still need to gather pallets to prep for fencing in our yard.  All of the glorious rain we've had has led to a jungle-like front yard that begs to be weeded.  The artwork on my walls, while endearing, needs painting over.  Dings in the walls need patching and painting.  Some kids are feeling sick and need my attention.  I'm not feeling spread too thin, but I am feeling pulled in too many directions.

All I want to do is sit with my sewing machine and crank out my overdue maxi skirts, go thrifting for a small console table so I can make a coffee bar in our kitchen, switch the office and craft desks, tend to my sick kiddos, and have ONE DAY where all of the laundry is clean, folded, and put away.

It looks like I'll be whipping out my trusty notebook and mapping out what needs doing, when it needs doing, and the budget allotment for each project.  As always, purging will happen first.  That is really the only certainty.

Oh, and Kid #3 has her 6th birthday on Saturday.  Somewhere in the cracks of the next two or three days, I have to make a chalkboard for her, get her cake made, assembled, and decorated, and make a dress that she wants.  I'll be making the chalkboard (Pinterest saves the day again!) and the dress will be easy enough.  It's finding the time to shop and assemble that's the trick.  Baaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh...

All of this on top of the day-to-day that needs to happen.

But you know what?  As much as I wail lamentations about all of this, I really do enjoy every moment. The stress, the panic, the confusion, and the disorganization is almost comforting.  It means I'm alive, I'm well, I'm facing the challenges that come with being a wife and mom.  It sweetens the moments of validation and success that make their rare appearance.  It gives me greater cause to rejoice in my successes and learn from my failures.  It gives me the push to always try harder and do better.

If all of this were easy, it wouldn't be any fun.

Tasty Tuesday Strikes Again.

My sweet tooth was screaming yesterday.  It reminded me of Lent this past year, when we followed the traditional fasting guidelines of the Eastern Rite.  Save for fish, we were pretty much vegan.  It was a whole new level of sacrifice, for sure!

However, it introduced me to possibly the most amazing dessert I've ever had.

Ladies and gentlemen, I relay to you, via Gourmande In The Kitchen, the Chocolate Nut Tart (a Paleo-friendly, gluten free, vegan mouthful of awesome):

Soooooooo delicious!

Ingredients:

For the Crust
• ½ cup unsweetened shredded coconut
• 1 ½ cups almond flour
• 2 Tablespoons coconut oil
• ¼ tsp salt
• 2 Tablespoons Maple Syrup


For the Coconut Milk Ganache
• 1 cup full fat coconut milk
• 12 oz bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract


For the Topping
• ½ cup unsweetened coconut flakes
• ½ cup raw macadamia nuts, coarsely chopped
• A pinch of sea salt

Instructions

Make the Tart Shell:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a food processor, pulse together almond flour, salt and shredded coconut until finely ground. Melt together coconut oil and maple syrup and add to almond flour and coconut mixture, pulse until coarse crumbs form (dough should clump together when squeezed with fingers).
2. Transfer dough to a greased 9-inch tart pan with a removable bottom. Using a measuring cup or your fingers, evenly press dough in bottom and up sides of pan.  (In a pinch, use a springform pan.  It worked fine for me.)
3. Bake in center of oven until golden and firm, about 15- 20 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack and cool completely, at least 1 hour.

Make Topping:
4. Spread the chopped macadamia nuts and shredded coconut evenly over a sheet pan and bake until lightly golden (about 3-5 minutes). Set aside.

Make Ganache:
5. Place chopped chocolate in a large mixing bowl. In a small saucepan, bring coconut milk to a boil. Pour hot coconut milk over chocolate and let stand 1 minute, then stir until smooth and creamy. Mix in the vanilla extract.

Assemble Tart:
6. Pour chocolate into cooled tart shell. Lightly sprinkle toasted macadamia nuts and toasted coconut across the top. Sprinkle with a pinch of flaky sea salt if desired. Chill for at least one hour, or until set, and serve.

You won't be sorry.  It's amazing.

Monday... Meme... Rawr!!!

source

I have been gluten free for two solid weeks and the biggest difference has been my sleep.  I sleep better than I think I ever have in my entire life.  I'm dreaming again.  I can't remember the last time I had a good, solid dream sequence.  It has taken me from waking up in a constant state of feeling hungover to waking up and nearly skipping out of my bedroom to begin my day.

But yesterday, the husband bought a growler of beer at a brewery where we had brunch.  He insisted that I try it, so I did.  It was good.  I had MAYBE three tablespoons of the stuff and I woke up this morning feeling like I'd been hit by a truck.  My body ached, by head raged, and it felt like I didn't sleep a wink.

It has turned my Monday into the dinosaur you see above, and my resolve into the screaming, fleeing kid that the dinosaur wishes to devour.

Even still (get ready for some blatant bragging), I managed to wash, dry, and fold two loads of laundry, put one of those loads away, and got the kids to empty the dishwasher (only one dish broken this time, huzzah!), so we'll chalk that up to some serious success!

When Kid #4 hits the pillow for nap time, I plan on finishing up the kitchen's state of affairs and then flopping down to hammer out a menu plan and shopping list for the week.  I may need to carve out some time for a quick catnap though, because I am feeling particularly wrecked.

Damn you, gluten.

The Hangover.

I didn't post yesterday because the day was positively crammed.  It was a good kind of crammed that kept me on my toes from start to finish.  Sadly, today is a major hangover kind of day where I clean up the aftermath of the previous day.  (No, I don't have an actual hangover.)

The family woke up early and shuffled out the door in time to meet family friends for breakfast at their lovely farm.  After enjoying the fellowship at the breakfast table, we made our way out to their coop to dispatch their rooster, Cowboy, who has been terrorizing their family for the last month.  With a towel and some fancy footwork, we caught him and made clumsy work of his demise.  His neck feathers were thick, he fought the whole time, and then stubbornly refused to die after the mortal wound was made.  It was AWFUL.  Our only comfort was that he was a complete terror to the family and we were doing everyone a favor, no matter how he met his end.

Then we went back to gather a hen who wasn't laying so that she might prove more useful post-mortem: in a crock pot.  She was MUCH easier to dispatch.  She was calm and went very peacefully.  I'm glad our botched job with Cowboy helped to prepare we (us?) newbies to make her passing much better.

The children from both families watched the process and they were amazing about it.  They were incredibly curious about the farm-to-table reality of food, and really excited that they knew how happy the chickens lived so that they'd "taste happy" when that time came.  Kid #1 loved their feet the most.  "They're just like T-Rex feet, almost," he'd say.  Smarty pants!

The scalding and plucking was a breeze.  Gutting and disemboweling will take some practice.  Continuing to be a complete pain in the patootey, even in death, Cowboy's opening to his chest cavity was about the size of a golf ball.  Getting a hand in there to get everything out was a nightmare, so we ended up splitting open his breast bone and finishing up his processing.  He's now bagged and in the garage fridge of our friends' home.

And, once again, the hen was a breeze.  Her processing was much quicker and easier.  What was neat about her was that she was full of yolks.  No eggs, no shell-less eggs, but just yolks of all shapes and sizes.  I'm not sure why that is, but I'll be researching that later today.  She's bagged and in our fridge as a "thank you" from our hosts for researching, facilitating, and aiding in their first-ever slaughter.  That's a pretty awesome gift!

We got home in time to shower and assemble a couple of sides for a July 4th cookout.  We got to reconnect with a family we hadn't seen in some time, meet their German au pair (she's very sweet!), and enjoy even more friends and food.

Sadly, as the evening progressed, Kid #4 developed a fever and we had to hightail it home.  John lit off some fireworks with the older three kids while Kid #4 and I cozied up on the couch and snuggled away.  Poor guy was so talkative and enamored with the sounds and lights coming from outside, but he didn't want to be out of my arms for a moment.  I tried putting him to bed, but I have no idea if I was successful or not, as I fell asleep almost immediately.  Boom.

So today begins.  It began hours and hours ago with our neighbor ringing the doorbell at 6 a.m. to borrow our mower.  He mowed our lawn after mowing his own, which was pretty awesome!  Then breakfast happened, and coffee, and now a sink full of dishes, a couch full of clean laundry, and a washer full of dirty clothes cry out to be addressed.  This is on top of the kitchen floor needing serious attention, a yard screaming for some weeding, carpets needing some vacuuming, and a baby who is still sporting a low grade fever.

So, naturally, I'm blogging. ;-)

Here is a fun peek inside our madness.

We are addicted to matching pajama sets.

We make ourselves comfortable, even if it makes us look silly.

We help ourselves. Sometimes it means climbing onto the table to raid the fruit bowl.

We have sweet and innocent faces that are a complete smokescreen for the impish souls within.

We are serious about fitness.  So serious, in fact, that we will do it without pants, in a polo shirt, in shoes that are 15 sizes too big.  And, obviously, safety while using the equipment is a must.

I know, kid #1 is playing a video game in the second picture.  I'm torn about it.  The therapist at the children's hospital autism research group said a half hour to an hour a week would help his hand-eye coordination and exercise his problem solving skills, so long as it's not a point-and-shoot game.  They love to play a game called "Little Big Planet," where you are a little knitted doll who has to run around helping characters from different dreamscapes.  It's really cute, and it does require problem solving.  I just don't know that it requires more of him than, say, a puzzle.  But the selfish mom in me is happy that it does what the therapist wants while captivating the other kids long enough for me to have a breather.  Ugh.

The ant saga continues.  Kid #4, a voracious carnivore, gnawed on the bone from the steak we had the other night and then, unbeknownst to me, tossed it into the laundry closet by the dryer.  Yesterday, I go to do laundry and am met with a swarm of them on that bone.  Naturally, I freaked out and began hosing the lot with poison.  I don't know why we still have the poison, because I abhor using it, but it was right there on the laundry shelf and I wasn't thinking.  Post-massacre clean up involved the making of ant bait (sugar, water, boric acid) that I've placed around the main floor.  I think they're travelling along the baseboards, beneath them, to the various spots in the house.  Ack, ick, yuck.  Hopefully, within a few days, they should be history.

Oh, and in the spirit of rejoicing in small projects, I was given a beautiful shantung satin spring coat for The Girl (kid #3).  It's a classic, beautiful cut.  But there was one aspect that just wasn't her:

The buttons.  They're classic-looking faux-brass, with a shield and some palm detailing.  Lovely, of course, but not my daughter's style.

I was hoping to update it, bringing in a touch of whimsy that my daughter practically lives by:

Bye bye, brass!

Hello, whimsy!

I think it helps update it ever-so-slightly, and The Girl is over the moon about the results.  I may yet swap the buttons on the front for plain white shank buttons rather than sew-throughs.

Well, I'm going to check ant baits and plow through some paperwork before addressing Mt. Washmore on the couch, begging to be folded.  

Tuesday calls for food...

I am going to make a simple-yet-delicious roasted chicken.  It's been a fallback recipe, though I really should make it more often.  It's easy and provides me with leftovers for other dishes, like sandwiches and casseroles, and a carcass for chicken soup.  The recipe is here.  I'm stoked to use the herbs that our garden now has to spare.

Yesterday's freak-out over the ants proved very productive in the cleaning department.  It also led to thoughts and plans on the move of the computer desk to the sewing desk way ahead of schedule.  The sewing desk is far more conducive to "officey" things, like a cork board built into the shelving, shelves for all of these papers and documents in the accordion files, and a pullout keyboard platform that goes virtually unused otherwise.  It also has a pullout writing surface that is also currently unused.  It just makes sense to me.  However, the mister is the one who would need convincing.

I'm wondering if this is one of those times where I should surprise him with the switch in the spirit of "It's better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission."

Either way, it's not happening today.  I've been put to task doing peon work for the mister's office.  I'm happy to do it.  It's extra funding, which always helps. :-)

They go marching one by one...

Some days, that is truly how it feels.  

However, a whole new level of motivation has been thrown in my face and I am literally itching to get this place clean: I have ants.

Tiny black ants were spotted around my power strip by my computer when I was trying to figure out why our internet was down.  I moved it, and a small cluster of them scattered.  I moved my desk away from the wall and there they were.  A small army of them were happily munching away on bits of long lost popcorn.  I immediately got out the vacuum cleaner and went to town on the carpets, got some hot water and vinegar and washed down my walls and baseboards, and then sprayed a thin layer of peppermint oil to keep them away.  I'll be doing this to the entire perimeter of the downstairs today, which totally derails my plans to make today entirely about laundry.  Now it will be an emergency load of essentials to get the family through tomorrow, and tomorrow will be dedicated to laundry in what I hope to be an ant-free house.  

This also means I will probably yell at the kids like a drill sergeant if their food comes anywhere near the living room for the forseeable future.

Ick.  Ants make me itch at the very thought of them!