Pumpkin Pie, Anyone?

Thanksgiving has done come and gone.

It's behind me. Literally, folks - behind me. Get it? Huh? BEHIND? It's a good thing I have stretchy yoga pants that make my behind look good no matter how much pie I eat. Stretchy yoga pants are a must have at the holidays.

As I shared with you last week, we spent the day at the Bonners. Except for some minor glitches it was a wonderfully relaxing day.

Glitches, you ask? Do share! Well, OK, since you've asked so nicely . . . .

Dawn handled the glitches beautifully. Me? I would have started in on the wine and ordered pizza, but I have no class. Also I have very little tolerance for glitches of that magnitude.

Oh, wait, I told you they were minor, didn't I? I lied.

Kinda.

First glitch - the turkey cooked at a temperature 100 degrees hotter than it should have for a couple of hours. And you know what? Minor glitch - it was still FABULOUS. I'm telling you, Dawn has the turkey thing down. Brining is the way to go, baby.

Here's a tangent: I dove into the deep end of the OCD pool and figured out the William Sonoma brine recipe. Why is that OCD? Well, because my method of figuring it out was to empty the jar of brine mix into a big bowl, then pick out and measure all the different parts - salt, garlic, dried apples and onions and lemon peel, star anise, juniper berries and bay leaf and rosemary. Yep, I need an intervention. Why do you ask?

Back to the glitches . . .

Minor glitch #2 -Dawn made a lovely gravy and, using the sink, transferred it from the saucepan to the serving dish. I didn't notice the gravy, sitting innocently in the sink and washed my hands there. Gravy - watered down, soapy and useless. It's a good thing she made double.

Glitch #3 - We missed Noah that day because he was quarantined in his room with the swine flu, totally cut off from friends, family and society in general. His Thanksgiving meal consisted of Tylenol with a little bit of turkey. Poor Noah. Word has it he's better now, though.

And now for glitch #4 which, when I heard of it made me alternate between total fury and helpless laughter. But that's because it didn't happen to me. I'll let Lilly tell you the story. You remember Lilly, don't you? She of the pink toenails who occasionally comes to visit us?

"Hello, I'm Lilly and I'd like to tell you a story. . .

Way back in the good old days, approximately two months ago, I was an only child. A well-behaved, lovely, only child. I don't climb on the furniture, I don't beg for food and I definitely don't "powder my nose" indoors. Indeed not! That would be bad manners.

Then my only-child status changed. The folks brought another dog home (a mistake of galactic proportions if you ask me and yes, I just used the word "galactic". Quit snickering. I play Scrabble too.). Let me introduce you to my new sister, Sophie . . ."

Sophie: "Look at me! I'm Sophie! Blonde Sophie! Sophie-Sophie-Sophie! (pant, pant) I'm happy-happy-happy! (wiggle, wag, wiggle) Pet me! Love me! Give me attention! (sniff, sniff, wag, wag) Is there any food? I'm SOPHIE!"

Lilly: "Sheesh. Do you see what I have to put up with? By the way, you're in serious trouble sister. Have you forgotten the Pumpkin Pie Incident? You're a bimbo bonehead."

Sophie: "What? What's a bonehead? Is that good? What's pumpkin pie? Is it good? I WANT SOME."

Lilly: "You already had some, Blondie. To the tune of two, freshly baked pies that were sitting on the counter. I can't believe I got in trouble for your bad behavior - just because our people couldn't nail down the real culprit, we were both punished. I've been unjustly treated. Whatever happened to due process? I have rights."

Sophie: "That orange stuff on the counter was pumpkin pie? DANG it was good. What's due process?"

Lilly: "Is anybody else hearing this? Excuse me, but am I the only one who can smell her pumpkin pie breath? Life used to be so good . . . "

Sophie: "I'm sleepy. So, sleepy . . . must . . . close . . . eyes. Heavy . . eyes . . . .

. . . succumbing to . . . carb coma . . . . ."

The End

Thankful

I so love this time of year! The smell of woodsmoke outside and pumpkin pie inside, the sound of a football game on TV, the incredible beauty of the trees we have up here. . . .

. . . and Thanksgiving. My most favorite holiday.

To me, Thanksgiving is all about family and traditions and gratefulness. It's a relaxing day, when I give myself permission to kick back (after the cooking is done) and NOT think about the craziness that will ensue with Christmas around the corner. We don't travel on Thanksgiving - we save that for Christmastime in Kansas - so we usually spend the day with our dear friends, the Bonners.

Would you like to know how we celebrate Thanksgiving? Your life won't be complete unless you know these details. It's why I'm here, folks to complete you.

The day starts early for me. I get up and make homemade cinnamon rolls. While that heavenly smell fills the house, the sound of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade is in the background, soon to be replaced with a football game. After breakfast I get started on whatever contribution we're making for the feast at the Bonners. Dawn makes the turkey - an incredible brined turkey that is - seriously folks - To. Die. For. Which is hilarious because Dawn doesn't cook. But she cooks turkey. Oh man, does she ever cook turkey.

We usually have several appetizers, to tide the kids over - yeah, right, the kids - until we eat our late dinner around 2 or 3. After dinner we lay around, digesting, watching more football and the movie, "Rudy", which is my favorite movie of all time.

The next day we're up early to get our Christmas tree at Thornton's Tree farm. We bring it home and start decorating the house for Christmas! I always get a little mental with the tree - I have to prune it, get the dead branches and needles off and leave it out in the garage (where it makes the garage smell incredible) overnight.

By now it's Saturday and we started a new tradition last year - our own, small Thanksgiving for just us. Having turkey day at the Bonners means we don't have turkey leftovers or that wonderful, roasting turkey smell at home. I solved that dilemma by doing it for us, while Duane and the kids trim the Christmas tree. Our house fills with the smell of roasting turkey and baking rolls while Christmas music plays and the kids play with ornaments. It's awesome.

This year, I began what I hope will be another tradition for years to come - I made gifts for neighbors and friends. Usually I make some kind of treat for people at Christmas but decided to do it at Thanksgiving this year. I'm pretty sure it will make my sanity stay in the therapeutic range during December.

I made mini-loaves of Pumpkin Cranberry Orange Bread and packaged them like this -

The sentiment says, "sharing, gratefulness, happiness, thankfulness".

I believe thankfulness and gratefulness are gifts. As a Christian I know they are the fruit of the Holy Spirit in me. I am thankful and grateful for so many things - mostly people - in my life. My sweet husband and kids, my wonderful parents and siblings, my in-laws who indulgently and lovingly put up with my goofiness. My friends - oh my girlfriends - you know who you are! Our church and school and neighborhood.

I am blessed, and God has done it abundantly and extravagantly!

Have a beautiful Thanksgiving. I hope you are blessed with grateful, thankful hearts this Thursday and throughout the season.

Biker Chick

The birthday girl got a birthday bike! A rockin' hot pink big-girl bike. Honestly, if they made this bike in an adult size? I'd be riding right along with her. I love the retro look.

OK, now concentrate . . . easy on the turns . . . it's bigger than what you're used to. . .

Are you nervous, sweetie? Want me to run along side you and hold the seat?

(Please say no. I just can't run that fast anymore. Like I ever could.)

Wait, that looks suspiciously like confidence. You're goofing off . . .

. . . and mugging for the camera and not watching the road.

Mommy and her camera can be quite distracting, huh?

No seven-year olds were harmed in the writing of this post.

Visitors

We had visitors last week!

Mom and Dad came from Kansas to spend a few days with us. I know, I know, Kansas is usually a destination - a highly desirable resort destination.

Like you didn't know that. *Snort*

Mom's birthday just happened to fall during their visit so we got to celebrate with her for a change. Of course that was just an excuse for Mom and I to participate in what is becoming a trend with their visits - baking new, unusual and predominantly high maintenance dishes. We like to bake together and I always have a stockpile of things I want to try.

I have newspaper articles, recipes circled in magazines and many, MANY recipes that I've earmarked from Tasty Kitchen. Honestly, if I were to try all of these recipes that I've collected over the years, we wouldn't have a duplicate meal for the rest of our lives. What can I say? I'm a collector.

So, you want to know what we made for Mom's birthday cake? Prepare to be dazzled.

We made this. Martha Stewart's Caramelized Apple Spice Cake. Well, let me clarify . . . we made this recipe. Our cake turned out something like this . . .

We decided to forgo the layers and made a bundt cake instead. See that gooey part toward the bottom of the cake? We underbaked it. Martha would be horrified, wouldn't she? We also left off the Swiss buttercream frosting that had 2 cups of butter in it. No that wasn't a typo. Two cups of butter, people. That's 4 sticks. One pound. In just the frosting. There was another cup and a half in the cake.

Yikes. I suppose when you make it, you schedule your angioplasty at the same time.

The picture of Martha's cake is just beautiful, isn't it? The picture alone made me want to make it. Until I discovered that making little marzipan pumpkins and acorns was way, WAY out of my comfort zone. No, I didn't try to make them. Why? Well, because I HAVE A BRAIN. The end.

Back to the recipe. It sounded fantastic - grated apples sautéed in butter with brown sugar for the caramelization part. Toasted pecans, ground up into flour and incorporated into the dry ingredients. Lots of cinnamon and freshly ground nutmeg . . . . mmmmmm. Is your mouth watering?

The high maintenance part shouldn't have surprised me, I mean it is a Martha recipe. I've made enough of her things to anticipate the multitude of steps and the mountain of dirty dishes. This cake had 16 steps and we messed up 8 different pans and bowls. Not your average cake recipe, but I was willing to overlook that if the cake tasted fantastic.

After step number 12 I started saying things like, "This cake better be the best apple cake in the history of apple cakes in the universe."

Bitter, no?

Well, I'm sad to say that after all that work, after all the dirty dishes - it was just an average cake. No strong apple flavor. Especially no strong caramel apple flavor - and I was really looking forward to that. Nope, the end result wasn't worth the work. But, it was worth the try!

Plus, Mom and I got to do what we do best - hang out in the kitchen together.

Happy birthday, Mom! It was so much fun celebrating with you this year!

Happy Birthday, Katie-girl!

I knew it would happen someday, I just didn't realize it would happen so fast. That I wouldn't have babies in the house anymore.

The kids are still young, they just aren't little. Baby-little. Toddler-little. I keep telling them to STOP. Stop growing and getting big. Just FREEZE. They're so disobedient. They haven't listened to me at all. Now look what I have to deal with - a seven year-old who picks out her own clothes and does her own hair. And she's just so darn beautiful - it almost makes my eyes hurt to look at her.

Sometimes, I think we're all just celestial bodies, orbiting Katie.

I'm pretty sure this was only last week, when I delivered her in the hospital.

And Duane was just about to burst when he held her for the first time. What is it about a big, strong man, holding a baby? Some of my favorite pictures are of my babies being cuddled by their daddy.

This was just a couple of days ago, wasn't it? When she still rode in a stroller?

And this was - what? - five minutes ago? Somebody help me.

Because if I could still do this - I'd do it in a heartbeat. Despite the lack of sleep and blood clots in my legs and sore nipples. Snuggling with a sleeping baby is a little piece of heaven, don't you know.

But I wouldn't trade this either. Getting love notes she made herself and illustrated with hearts. Baking cookies together and teaching her how to use measuring spoons. Listening to her pray and thank Jesus for dying on the cross for her. Listening to her sing the songs she learned in school or tell really corny jokes.

All of the ages and stages are fun and it just gets better and better.

Happy seventh birthday sweetie-girl. We are so blessed!

Frightfully fun!

We had our annual Halloween party last Saturday! We started this thing 5 or 6 years ago with one other family. It's evolved into a crazy, chaotic event with close to 35 grownups and kids celebrating the festivities.

Oh, what am I saying - we're all kids on Halloween, right? For instance, when trick-or-treaters rang the doorbell, I gleefully offered them the veggie tray we had for dinner.

"Hi kids! You should take the carrot sticks - they've really been going fast!"

Then I took mercy on them and gave them candy. But for a couple of minutes, the total silence and disbelieving looks directed at me were WORTH IT. I have Davi to thank for that brilliant piece of mind-warping.

Davi and family were here. Davi made her famous apple dip. That dip is why people come to the party, folks. Seriously. Maybe I'll make another attempt at food blogging and show you how to make it . . . someday.

Lisa and family were also here. Lisa brought her amazing cornbread plus her birthday present - a brand new Nikon D90 with all the bells and whistles. Now that she has her sweet new camera, she can show you how to make the cornbread on her blog. Right, Lisa?

One of the most anticipated events of the night is the ginormous silly string war we have before the kids go trick-or-treating. I took about 25 pictures of the war. Ready?

They all look like this . . .

. . . and this.

I'm going to write a photography book someday. The title will be, "How to Suck at Preserving Memories". How catchy is that? I'm sure it'll be a best-seller.

The blurry pterodactyl is Katie. Her costume is about 2 years too small. When she pulled the head on, it stretched out the whole costume and gave her a perma-wedgy. Not to mention the extreme high-water action going on around her ankles.

Last week we were eating dinner at the Bonners and my friend, Patti, said, "Katie, what are you going to be for Halloween?"

Katie said, with a perfectly serious face,

"I'm going to be a pterodactyl because that's what's hanging in my closet."

Did we have a beautiful ballerina costume hanging in the closet, too?

Yes.

Did she want to wear it?

No.

I still can't figure it out. So, back to the party . . .

This is my friend, Gina, and her daughter, Hannah. Hannah is wearing a Strawberry Shortcake costume that Gina wore as a little girl.

(So, I'm going to keep the pterodactyl costume until Katie has kids. Maybe my granddaughter will want to wear it, hmmm?)

After silly-stringing, the dads gather up the kids and they all go trick-or-treating. We women-folk stay home and drink adult beverages I mean clean up the kitchen. It's a time-honored tradition.

Pomegranate martinis.

After the kids & dads return home, the real entertainment starts. The kids stake out a place in the playroom, dump out their candy, and the bartering/trading begins -

"I'll give you two Butterfingers for a Skittle."

"I don't like peanut M&M's so I'll give you all my peanut M&M's for your Milk Duds."

"I'm going to arrange mine in order of importance . . .

. . . then I'll make a giant candy-head man. With Skittle hair and pencil eyebrows."

Tangent alert: Who gives pencils on Halloween? Do I know you? Were you abused as a child? Do you need to come to my house on Halloween and have a martini? I'd like to help you. End of tangent.

Here's a beautiful ballerina - hi Grace!

And finally, my oldest boy, guarding his loot and well he should because I exact a "karenpie tax" on all the kids. They have to give me all their Mounds and Almond Joys. It's what I do in exchange for letting them track silly string all over my house. The karenpie tax, another time-honored tradition.

Hope you had a fun Halloween!

May all your dental visits be happy ones.