Comfort Food

I made a trip to Kroger today--you know how it goes, 10 things on the list, and you come home two hours later and $200 poorer.  "Where did these cookies come from?"  "Who put mac and cheese in my cart?"  "I must've bought a gallon of ice cream in my sleep!"  And I didn't even take the kids with me this time.

We're in need of some comfort food around here.  Well, actually, Pace'll tell you we need any food at all--the cupboards are pretty bare.  Personally, I'd rather survive on leftovers and cereal before I commit to weekly shopping; others in this house don't feel the same way.  Of course, "they" also don't have to shop with three kids.  Just saying.

Thursday Gray and I spent the afternoon visiting with the ENT.  We knew Grayson needed his adenoids out, but it was a surprise to hear he needs ear tubes, too.  It makes sense now--the kid is half-deaf, and I just chalked it up to being 4.  I didn't stop to think his ear canals might be under water.  The highlight of the visit, though, was when the doctor put on his headlamp, peered into my nose, and was delighted by the finding of a bony growth that's not supposed to be there at all.  It always makes them so happy to find something odd.  That generally means surgery for the patient, though.  So both Grayson and I will be having things added, removed, or repositioned in early April.  I'm excited--I haven't been able to smell or breathe through my nose since '07.  Grayson was born congested, so the thought of being able to breathe properly hasn't probably occurred to him yet.  Caiden will be happy to have a bedfellow who doesn't snore.  But just between you and me, I hate surgery, anesthesia, recovery, and pain.  I'm a little bit scared.  (If you've had sinus surgery and had a less-than-spectacular experience, do not tell me.  We will not be friends anymore.  Lie to me instead.   I can't handle the truth, Tom Cruise!)

Then yesterday afternoon, in a spectacular feat reminiscent of a 1970s cartoon, Addie slipped on a piece of plastic and flew through the air, to land on her elbow.  If she hadn't fractured it, she would've thought it was awesome.  But she did, so she didn't.  Instead, she screamed, I cried, Pace flew up the stairs to see what happened, and off I sped to the ER.  I was hoping to get pulled over, so I could get a police escort to help me through rush hour traffic.  It seems I only get pulled over when I don't want to.  

We spent the entire evening in the ER, with nothing but the Food Network and about 35 texts from Pace to entertain us.  Addie came home in a hard splint, sling, and hospital gown with orange cats on it, which we thought terribly cool.  I have to call our ortho doc Monday and explain that the same child has broken a second bone in 7 months.  How is it that our two boys have never so much as sprained an ankle, but our little girl has a penchant for breaking bones? I will say she's tough, though:  she sat 4 inches in front of the TV screen, entirely mesmerized by Jeff Corwin's Extreme Eating episode on the Food Network.    I gagged about 14 times, but she thought eating blood mollusks raw sounded just fine.

So last night, instead of going on a date with Pace, we ended up eating cold McDonald's at midnight.  That might explain how the green shamrock butter cookies ended up in my cart.  And the two bottles of Biscotti creamer, along with the Snickerdoodle coffee.  And the glazed blueberry donut.  And maybe the two frozen cheese-stuffed crust pizzas, too.  Not that all of that made it home.  The cookies may or may not have disappeared (into my mouth) during my drive back.

It doesn't matter that I can't really taste what I eat, or that our babysitter texted to say she'll babysit for free soon, so we can make up the lost date night.  It doesn't matter that Addie says her arm doesn't hurt much, or that our surgeries aren't scheduled for another month.  If I didn't have curtains to sew, laundry to do, and bills to pay, I'd let Calgon take me away,  for the rest of the day.  But I do, so I can't.  So instead, I'm heading to the fridge for a tall Diet Coke, and I fully plan on pulling out the rest of the shamrock cookies.  Sometimes a little comfort food can go a long way.

Thursday

Writing quick updates is working well for me these days :)

• Today Gray and I are off to the ENT--high hopes he'll solve all our problems!  This doctor has already done surgeries on both Caiden and Addie (when she was only 5 pounds, no less!) so we know we're in good hands.  Grayson's excited both for the "flashlight up my nose" and the date with just me.  Leave it to the middle child to think going to a doctor's appointment with mom is a "date."  He's easy to please.

• I got my dining room curtain fabric in the other day and got the courage to cut out the Roman shades yesterday.  I wrote myself all sorts of notes, ate lots of chocolate, and sweated profusely, but so far, so good.  I have a paranoia of cutting the wrong dimensions; Decorator weight fabric isn't cheap.  Today when we get home, I'm hoping to start sewing them.  I promised myself if I can get them all done by this weekend, I can stain the window trim.  See how fun my rewards are?  No wonder I procrastinate!!

• All of our new animals are still alive, although one chicken doesn't look long for this world.  Don't laugh at me, but watching chickens grow is fascinating!  It's amazing how fast they develop.  What were tiny, downy chicks just a week ago are now twice as big with fully-feathered wings and tiny tail feathers.  Caiden and I took 8 out for a field trip into the backyard the other day, and we like to think those 8 like us a little better now.  It's hard to tell with chickens, you know.





• O.C., the new cat, is mine and Caiden's newest love.  Have I ever written about how much he and I love cats?  We didn't think we'd ever have another, since all of my cats previously have peed in my house, so having a barn cat is perfect.  He takes his job literally--he hasn't wandered more than 10 feet from the barn yet, and each night when I go to sleep, I see his white fur shining in the night, sitting in the entrance.  He's still there every morning, which makes me love him even more.  He comes when we call him, and I've found Caiden curled up in the cat bed, with the cat, more than once this week.  That's one heck of a cat, that'll share his bed with a child!  If I could've named him, I'd call him Marmalade or Loyal.  Pace and I mused last night over what O.C. stands for.  We came up with about 10 options, although Orange Cat seems the most probable.





• Have I mentioned that Bridget is due with her third baby (a girl) this week?  She's at the doctor now, and every time we talk I pray for dilation for her.  You know you're best friends when you pray for somebody else's cervix.  I can't wait to see this baby--this is the first time Bridget has been pregnant when I wasn't, so I'll actually have open arms to hold this baby, instead of having my own newborn.  I made her a quilt that I forgot to take pictures of, but I love her already :)  

I guess that's it!  Nothing big or exciting going on this week.  Last week was my birthday, C3, and Addie had the flu, and next week my parents are in town, so this week is a nice break.  We're having the Pioneer Woman's brisket tonight, which has made our entire family insanely happy to know, so I know it's going to be a good day.  (I haven't mentioned it to anybody in my family, but I haven't cooked chicken since we got ours.  I just can't seem to do it.  I even made fish the other night, which I generally hate, because I couldn't bring myself to eat a chicken.  I've got to get over this, and soon!  In the meantime, we're eating lots of beef.  I have several happy boys in this house!)

I hope you have a happy Thursday!

(Notice the pictures of sibling love and devotion?  Those are because the last few days have been nothing but the opposite of love and devotion, and I'm reminding myself that those three do, indeed, love each other.)

A Break in the Regularly Scheduled Programming . . .

to bring you this.  This is the video of our pastor's family and Christine Caine t.p.'ing (How on earth is that spelled?  It's driving me crazy!) our house this weekend.  (See below a few posts if you missed it!)

Listen carefully for the barking "dog" in the background.  I laugh every time I watch it.  

Things I Never Thought I'd Say

In the last 24 hours:

1.  "Grayson, don't lick the chicken!  No!  No!  Oh, you licked the chicken!  Grayson, don't lick the chicken ever again.  Say it with me, 'avian bird flu.' " 

2.  "Grayson, remember we talked about not chopping off heads?  I don't care if David cut off Goliath's head, we don't cut off heads.  Say it with me, 'I will not pretend to saw off the Lego Men's heads.' "

3.  "Grayson, we don't wear sweatpants, a tie, an eyepatch, and barn boots to church.  And we don't take swords to church.  Say it with me, 'I will wear pants without gathered ankles to church.' "

Just for posterity :)

Snapshots of an Evening Outside

We spent a few minutes outside tonight, all of us except the chickens and the hamster.  (Well, one chicken was outside.  Rest in peace, Stuart Little.  His funeral was short and sweet, attended only by the gravedigger (me) and a sobbing 7 year old.  I sure hope those other birds live.  This could become highly traumatic.  We have 17 left.  I'm not sure either one of us could survive the emotional turmoil if all of them fly the coop.  So to speak.)

Back to the blissful evening.  Our new barn cat takes his role seriously.  Barns are nicer with a cat inside.

See that scratch down his nose?  Impressive, isn't it?  You should see what he did to the other guy.  Mice, be afraid. 


Hanging out with the goats.  They're starting to like us.

Swinging in the sunset.
And then running for home.

It was a good day, finished off by a good night.  You can't ask for much more than that.

Excited About Monday

I'm excited it's Monday!  (I don't recall ever feeling that way when I was a teacher; clearly I'm doing what God has called me to do now!)  I woke up this morning to sunshine streaming in my bedroom windows and looked out to find our new, huge, orange cat, "O.C." sitting in the entrance to the barn, surveying his new kingdom.  I love how cats are so assuming!  (This character trait isn't so charming in people, though.)

I hurried out to drag the trash cans to the curb for the trash pickup (We missed last week and have been overflowing the last few days!  More on that in a minute.) and realized that my house is a wreck, my checkbook is in need of some help, and my head is clogged beyond Mucinex's help with a new head cold, but I was still thrilled for it to be Monday!  There's just something nice about Mondays--a new work week to get things done, make new to-do lists, and work toward some goals.  My goal today is simply to get started on cleaning the house, do the boys' laundry, and make something great for dinner.  And maybe buy some real Kleenexes; the toilet paper is rubbing my nose raw.

Speaking of toilet paper--I haven't gone t.p.'ing (or "rolling," or "wrapping" depending where you live) since I was in junior high--about 20 years ago.  Pace has; what self-respecting student pastor hasn't?  He's in the worship ministry now, so I think the last time he went was about 5 years ago.  Anyway, Saturday night after our worship service, he and I were vegging out on the couch, relaxing after the C3 Conference, when our pastor's wife, Lisa, called us at about 10 p.m.  He and she whispered on the phone, and when Pace hung up, he moved into high gear--"Sarah, the Youngs are coming here with Christine to t.p. our house!  I've got to kennel up the dogs and get my flashlight!"  Christine, who was here to speak during the conference and again for the weekend, being Australian, didn't know about the joys of t.p.'ing, so they were taking her on her inaugural mission.  But Lisa, not wanting the group to be rushed by our dogs, gave us a heads up first.  

About twenty minutes later, two cars pulled into the drive, and I hid in the back of the house so nobody would see me.  They rolled the trees covertly, not knowing that Pace was wearing all black and hiding up in the field at the front of the house.  About halfway through their job, he came running down the hill, barking furiously.  Yes, barking.   My husband has the dubious gift of great animal impersonations.  He can bark like the most ferocious dog ever (and squeal like a pig and cry like a baby), and even though Ed and Lisa are well-acquainted with the bark, having heard it before, it was so dark out, and he came so fast, that it scared the living daylights out of the entire crew.  Christine literally jumped over our fence, falling the last half, convinced it was a real dog.  I'm not sure who had more fun, them or him!  

The boys were mystified when they woke up Sunday morning.  "Mama, there's toilet paper in our trees!"  

"I know.  Pastor Ed put it there."

"Why?"

When I explained the joys of rolling, they both grinned.  Ed's esteem in their eyes moved to the next level.  They're already planning on hiding in the field and howling like coyotes "the next time Pastor Ed t.p.s us!"

I grabbed one of the rolls, and with the help of one of our other pastors, rolled Ed's, Lisa's, and Christine's seats in the auditorium before church.  I never get suspected for doing these kinds of things, because I'm married to Pace.  He's crazier than I am, so the blame rarely falls on me.  It was hilarious to see Ed's face when he walked in and saw his seat!

The entire night's escapade was caught on camera, and when Christine got up to speak, the video was shown to introduce her.  She said that in all her travels, she'd never been introduced to speak with a roll of toilet paper.  I heard she's a little bruised from her fall (Sorry about that, Christine!), but I think it's safe to say it was a memory she won't forget.

So this morning I stuffed armfuls of toilet paper in the trash bins, relishing the sunshine and new start to the week, and laughed again.

Daily Update

Here's a quick daily update:

• C3 Nights last night was awesome!  My pastor, Ed Young, spoke first, followed by Craig Groeschel, and between the anointed preaching and the powerful worship, I was so caught up I forgot I hadn't eaten since morning.  Let me tell you--that never happens.  I think I ended up eating a chocolate-covered pomegranate and two strawberries for dinner, and it was all good.  
• Tonight is the last of the C3 Nights, and I'm planning on eating first, but I have to tell you--Bishop T.D. Jakes speaks tonight, and I still remember what he spoke on last year, it was so powerful, so I'm thinking the food won't be necessary tonight, either!  If you're able to come, we'd love to have you!  Come early, though; it was packed out last night!  If you can't attend, you can watch it live on Daystar and GodTV.  (Typing "GodTV" makes me giggle.)
• The chickens are all still alive, even Amazing Grace!  I'm not sure who is more amazed, me or them.  Caiden checks on them hourly, and here's the best part--their wing feathers are coming in!  Last night after church I went up to tell them "hi" (which still terrifies them) , and I noticed that their previously downy wings are sprouting feathers!  I can already tell the markings on the Delawares (they'll be white with black-and-white-striped wings and tail tips) and on "Owl."  It's amazing how fast development happens in a chicken!  It won't be long before they're not cute and fluffy anymore, so we're trying to hold them as much as possible, to get them used to us.
• We're getting a cat.  I know, I know.  Don't even tell me we're crazy.  Our children's pastor's wife was telling me the other day that they have a stray cat named O.C. living with them, but that their own cat hates him, so they need to find him a home.  Of course I offered!  I didn't even have to ask Pace first; he loves cats.  He did kind of look crosswise at me when I told him, but I'm attributing that to the fact he'd been up since 4:30 that morning, and it was almost midnight that night.  Anyway, O.C. is an outdoor cat, and here he'll be totally safe from traffic, and we have a barn he can sleep in.  He's big enough not to be owl-bait, and he'll love the mice and other little creepy furry things that live back there.  My mom mentioned that we've gone from 2 dogs and a hamster, to 2 dogs, 1 hamster, 4  goats, 18 chickens, and 1 cat--all in about two weeks.  It's insane.  Caiden and Pace do most of the critter care around here, so it's not as crazy as it sounds.  Besides, of all the animals on the planet, cats rank highest in my kids' hearts, so they'll be over the moon.  I haven't told them yet, because I want to surprise them.  So if you see them today, please don't tell them!  I haven't told the chickens yet, either.  They should be safe from him, but I've heard that roosters are a mighty deterrent to cats, and right now we have 4.  Unless he eats some, of course.
• Caiden has discovered "The Series of Unfortunate Events" books, and I have to tell you--he hasn't moved in the last four hours.  We have the first six books, so once he finishes one, he hurries to get the next.  He's obsessed.  Nothing like three orphans with great names, a mystery, and a villain to capture a boy's heart!  Between that and a late night last night, it's pretty quiet around here.
• That's it for today!  I hope you're having a happy Friday!

Yesterday

Somebody asked me yesterday if my birthday was a good one.  I answered that it was, and that it was a weird one, all at the same time.  Usually when a birthday's perfect, I forget about it the next year.  But when a birthday's either awful or unusual, I remember it!  Like the year Caiden had strep throat and Pace was a student pastor, and I spent the entire day with a sick toddler.  Pace didn't get home from youth group til late that night, and I had to make my own cupcakes to celebrate.  It was pitiful.

But yesterday was great and entirely unusual!  I spent the morning running errands with the kids, then hurrying in a scurry to get ready for the high tea.  I got to spend a few hours with fellow pastors' wives, both old friends and new, and then we all went to the first of the C3 Nights, and it was amazing!  Christine Caine and Jentzen Franklin both spoke, and I was challenged in a mighty way.  I was also sitting two rows back from my husband and pastor, and it was hilarious to watch them listen to the messages.  There's nothing like watching preachers, watch preachers!  Everybody enjoyed the messages, but perhaps nobody better than those two!  I love being a part of C3 Nights; it's neat to be there to see what my husband and his team have worked on for such a long time.  The actual conference starts this morning, and I'm wishing I could be there.  Maybe next year, when my parents live here, I can talk them into hanging out with the kids so I can go!

So when we got home, late last night, Pace and I spent an hour catching up, and he told me that he got to talk to Jack Hayford on the phone earlier in the day for about half an hour.  What a dream for a worship pastor!  Pastor Jack has written literally hundreds of worship songs, and Pace says his wisdom and graciousness was amazing.  It was definitely a highlight for my husband.  (Thank you to Steve for connecting them!) 

Tonight is another C3 Night; this time our own pastor and also Craig Groeschel are speaking.  I can't wait!  If you're in the area, we'd love to have you join us at 6:30 at the main Fellowship Church campus in Grapevine.  Get there early, though--last night was filled up by about 6:15.

Items of Interest

Urgent Chicken Update:  "I once was lost, but now I'm found . . ."  Amazing Grace, the newly-dubbed missing chicken, has been found!  Alive, even!  Thank you to Theresa, who suggested I look under the shavings--the chicken wasn't under the shavings but was trapped under the waterer!  I guess last night when I changed out the water, I put the container right on top of her.  She's a little shaken, but she's alive.  I did warn Caiden she might not make it, but we're keeping our fingers crossed!

*Today I'm 33. There, I said it. Without cringing at all. Although I have to admit that this morning I realized I dreamed about being in my 20s, when I was in my teens, but I can honestly say it never occurred to me that there was life after 30. I'm happy to announce that there is, and I'm liking it very much.

*The prodigal chick has not come home. Poor Pace, who came home after 10 last night, literally crawled on his hands and knees with me, looking for her. (He was muttering something like, "I can't believe I'm looking for a missing chicken," but that's okay.) I checked on them this morning to do a head count and make sure nobody else had disappeared. So far, so good. But this will drive me crazy forever, until I find the missing chick. If I find her.

*After I buy an infrared brooder light, caribiners to secure the naughty black lab's kennel, and a new stock tank for the goats (Where is my life, and who stole it? I don't recall ever wanting to be a farm girl when I was growing up! But I do have to admit it that I'm liking it!), I get to go to the church and serve a high tea to other pastors' wives to kick off our annual C3 conference. Re-reading that sentence has brought to my attention the fact that immediately following livestock chores, I'll be at a high tea. Now that's what I call well-rounded! So if you're a pastor's wife attending the tea this afternoon, come find me! I'll be the one with chicken feathers in my hair. ( Just kidding!)

*Last but not least, if you're in the community, we'd love to have you join us at C3 Nights tonight! It starts at 6:30 in the main building, and following an awesome worship service (I know the worship pastor pretty well; you can count on it being awesome!) there will be a great message.  I loved going last year and am really looking forward to it tonight!  

*If you're in the mood for early spring cleaning and need some serious inspiration, or if you're a smoker trying to quit and need some serious inspiration, or if you just love the idea of spring cleaning or quitting smoking, you need to check out my aunt's blog.  I'm not in the mood for spring cleaning, and I'm not a smoker, and I'm still inspired when I read her posts over the last two weeks.  She makes Martha look bad.  

*That's it for now!  I hope you have a happy day today :)

*Oh, one more thing:  I still have to give away my prizes for those of you who selected the chosen article (You'll know what I'm talking about if you were one of them), post pictures of the Happy Room, and write about learning how to knit.  I haven't forgotten, I promise!  I just keep having things like goats, missing chickens, and other odd phenomena occur lately.  

Well, Most of Them, Anyway!

See post below.

I had 18 baby chicks before I went to the store.

I came home and had 17. Hmm.

Dogs & goats are outside, hamster is in her cage (Do hamsters eat chicks? Doubtful.), and kids are asleep. The chicks' brooder is too high for them to fly over, and I even checked the kids' beds to make sure nobody snuck a fuzzy little friend in to sleep with.

So my question is, where on earth is that chicken?? Has she been raptured? Did she disappear into thin air? It must be, because the door to the room was shut, and I've searched and searched--no luck. I'm completely puzzled! And a little bit horrified: what happens to an errant chick who's never found? Bad things, I'm guessing. And darn it, but it wasn't even one of those naked neck "Turkens" that disappeared; it was a cute one!

We're not off to a good start.

I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

The Girls are Here!

Right as we sat down to lunch today, the USPS called me, so we hopped in the car and brought home our mystery package.  Can you see the excitement in Caiden's clenched hands?  I'm surprised he didn't burst a blood vessel.
It's not a home waxing kit, doorknocker, or compost bin; it's chicks!  Lots of them!  Only one of you guessed correctly at first (Mary!), but my last hint gave it away for most of you.  Here are the babies revealed:

With 18 of them, there are plenty for everybody:  (Caiden says they look like rats in this picture.)

Here's our favorite, already named "Owl."  She's an Ameraucana, which lays blue-green eggs.  She looks a lot like an owl or chipmunk, rather than a chicken.  She's nice and chubby (for a chick) and likes being held already.

Pardon the harvest gold bathroom.  I'm sure it was very chic (totally unintended pun!) in 1978.  It's the only unused bathroom in the house, located off the Happy Room, which makes it perfect for the chicks.  Caiden is in heaven!  We had school up here with them this afternoon, which was slightly deafening with all the chirping and cheeping.  Those of you who have chickens know how loud the chicks are~I was surprised!  I'm downstairs right now, typing in my bedroom, and I can hear them all the way across the house and upstairs.  They are like newborn babies--very small but with huge lung power!!

Here are the girls in all their glory, already feasting:
One arrived dead, so since we ordered 16, we should've had 15.  But we have 18.  A little note on the bottom of the invoice says, "Extra males sent for warmth."  Hmm.  That explains the three chicks that have completely naked necks.  Caiden and I thought they'd been pecked by their boxmates, but it turns out there's a breed of (ugly) "Naked Neck Chickens," also called "Turkens."  Aha.  I'm not sure how I feel about three extra roosters that resemble turkeys.  But I guess that's why they say not to count your chickens before they hatch, right?? (Completely intended pun.  Not a very good one, though.)

For those of you who guessed correctly, way to go!  I'm very impressed.  Pretend I'm sending you a dozen fresh eggs each!! :)

So join us on our journey as we try to keep the chickens alive and happy! It should make for some interesting stories!

And for those who want to know:
3 naked neck cockerels
2 Ameraucana pullets
4 Buff Orpington pullets
1 Buff Orpington cockerel
5 4 Delaware pullets
4 Plymouth Barred Rock pullets
(cockerel=baby rooster; pullet=baby hen)

In the Nick of Time!

The drapes are finished!  Just in the nick of time, too--my package is supposed to arrive tomorrow (or maybe Wednesday)!  This could be dangerous, if Pace realizes all he has to do to get me to finish big projects is to give in to my crazy wishes!  We have a half-painted Happy Room still; wonder what I could get in exchange for finishing it?  Just kidding.  Sort of.  

Anyway, I tried to get a good photo of the window treatments, but the light is all wrong, and I can't get it to work.  So just imagine: They're triple-pinch pleated drapes with tasseled tiebacks, finished off with upholstered pelmet boxes above them.  That's not helpful, is it?  I'll try another picture later on today.  Here's a "before" shot for you--I don't have one with the drapes in their full glory, but believe me when I say that the song, "U.G.L.Y., you ain't got no alibi; you're ugly, ugly, ugly!" keeps running through my head.  The former owner spent a small fortune to have these custom made, but I think they had an unintended effect:  the first time we saw the house, we both said 'Ramada Inn' when we saw them!  We've chosen something slightly more 21st century :)  (And pardon Gray in his swim trunks.  He's a big fan of off-season dressing.)

And because I'm crazy, I went ahead and ordered the fabric for dining room window treatments, too--goblet pleated curtains with Roman shades!  I'm sure I'll hate sewing those, too, but the end result was so good this time, it's worth it.  I can't wait to have them done--so I can sew curtains for the boys' room and the family room.  We have a lot of naked windows around here :)

So one last hint about the mystery package:  even Addie can tell this joke.  (Confused?  One of you has already guessed correctly.)  Enjoy!

Happy Pace Day

This morning I reminded my husband that 14 years ago, I was on a Valentine's Day date with someone we'll call Bob--no, that won't work.  That's my father-in-law's name, and that's just awkward.  Let's call him Larry instead.  And my husband was on a "not date," as he still insists all these years later, with a girl we'll call Amy, because that's really her name.

So fourteen years ago, as I ate the famous rolls from O'Charley's in Jackson, TN, I stared into the eyes of Larry and realized that even the famous rolls don't cover up the fact that Amy was on a date with my future husband, and I wasn't.  Larry was really nice, and all, but he wasn't Chris.

Except that I'm declaring today Pace Day--I might as well start calling him Pace (on the blog; not in real life!  It just feels too weird.), since the rest of the world does.  He was Chris, until about 9 months after we got married, when he woke up one morning and announced that "Today is Pace day," and he never looked back.  I really didn't think it would stick, but that was 11 years ago, and I'm only one of about 5 people who still call him Chris.  Even my best friend from college, who only knew him as Chris, calls him Chris-Pace now.

He doesn't know it's Pace Day, though.  He's on his way to church, so we're spending the bulk of Valentine's Day apart.  That's okay; we celebrated earlier this week at dinner in Dallas, and tonight I'm making his very favorite meal in the whole world once he gets home.  If I'm really ambitious and don't mind smelling like smoke, I'll even build a fire.  Put the kids to bed, put on some lipgloss, and pour the Diet Coke.  That's how we do Valentine's in our house!  (Or Balentime's, as Grayson dubbed it today.  He's busy making his brother a Balentime's Day card, because although he asked my friend "Carol's" (I promised to keep her anonymous.) youngest daughter to marry him recently, he hasn't equated marriage with Balentime's Day cards yet.  To him, love stays within the confines of our family, and I'm totally fine with that.  Actually, if he could feel that way until he's about 20, that would be great.)

The house is quiet--we had a bonfire and flashlight hide and seek last night with two other families (Except the bonfire was put out after the fire department shut us down.), so a really late bedtime last night means really long naps today.  I'm about to go upstairs and work on a project for Addie's Big Girl room.  I have a bowl full of chocolate, a fridge full of cold Diet Cokes, and about two hours of bliss ahead of me.  For me, it's a perfect Valentine's.  

In fact, after attending the memorial service of a friend this week who died young and left his wife and two little boys behind, I'm reminded that Valentine's is a special day, despite all the naysayers who complain about the elevated prices of roses and cheesy cards and pricey dinners:  it's a reminder that if we're really blessed, we have a little circle of people who love us, and who we love.  It's not about those roses and cards that come once a year, but about the everyday things that remind me I'm loved and that I have a handful of people to love--a husband who fixed the kids' pancakes so I didn't have to make another trip down the stairs; the daughter who gives lollipop kisses (a huge lick on the face) and then cackles like a maniac; the boys who have their own beds but sleep together like spoons in the bottom bunk every night.  It's the sister who still tries to get me with her practical jokes, although we're 1200 miles apart, the sisters-in-law who are now my sisters, too. It's the best friend who loves me even when I'm irrational and a hypochondriac; the mother-in-law who thinks I'm sweet even when I'm not.  Flowers delivered to my door are nice, but a handful of daffodils picked out of my own yard is even sweeter.  Life's greatest blessings seem to come in little ways through ordinary people.

So even though I may have spent Valentine's 14 years ago looking into the eyes of Larry, all I saw were Pace's eyes, and all he saw were mine, too.  It's a good thing, because without him, I wouldn't have the little girl, the two boys, the sisters of the heart, the best friend, my mother-in-law.  When love came in, it brought with it a long line of blessings behind, and all because one man realized Amy wasn't the one.  Good move, Pace. For me, Valentine's Day is all about you.   Always.

It's Happy, But It's Not the Happy Room

This post is for my mom and mother-in-law, who've been asking . . .

I mentioned that I have a Happy Room, and several of you have been asking if it's the sewing room. It's not! But the sewing room is a happy place for me. We have an unused loft area above our bedroom, and right before Christmas I decided to move my sewing things up there. I figured it's less accessible for the kids, so maybe they'd be less tempted to cut holes in my quilt fabric. Not like that happened or anything. Right, Grayson?

The loft was painted a dark chocolate brown when we moved in, and that would be a great color in a media room, but it was creepy up there. The room looks down over one railing to our great room and over another to our bedroom, but even with two walls mostly open, it was as dark as a cave. When we first moved in, the only things up there were pieces of insulation and leftover trim. We added our suitcase collection and some boxes of stuff I can't figure out where to unpack. It was ugly, no bones about it. But it had great potential as a sewing/creating/Bible study place for me, and when Chris suggested moving my stuff up there, I was excited! The first thing I did was paint it a new, light color. But wait, this'll be easier with pictures. How about you take a little tour with me?

Let's go up the twirly stairs. They're a death trap, and hauling up anything of size is impossible, but they're cool. Grayson, you stay down there. No scissors for you.


Here's the before, with my sewing card table and not much else.
Here are the "After" photos:

This is the first thing you see at the top of the stairs. The little pink table was Addie's, and she wasn't thrilled to sacrifice it to the sewing room. The frame is fabric embellished with buttons, an idea I got from Anna Maria Horner's new book, "Seams to Me." Underneath are sewing and knitting books. In a basket I also stole from Addison's room. (That door leads to the attic. I painted the trim the same as the walls, to blend in better.)


If you stand at the stairs, this is most of the room. It looks a little bare in this picture, but that's because the wall is waiting for more "H" things. That's the hard part of a collection--it takes a while to build it! (Read: Mom, please send me cool "H"s.) I also need to finish the large, decoupaged H--it needs some stain to darken it. See that cool mirror? Stolen from Addie. She has cool stuff. (Correction: HAD cool stuff.) And please pardon the folding chair. It needs a slipcover; I just can't get excited about sewing one. My sewing machine is actually downstairs, next to the last drape I need to hem. Have I told you how much I hate sewing drapes? Even a pretty sewing room hasn't helped with that. (This picture is a good comparison with the "Before" shot; it's the same wall.)

I mentioned that nothing large fits up the stairs. Chris hauled up this window for me on a two-story outdoor ladder. He's a good man. I stole borrowed this from our screened-in porch. Actually, the porch has screens (hence the "screened-in" part) but originally had windows. I took this one out of the shed and painted it, and Chris is thinking he'll borrow another to put in his office and paint black. Heaven help us if we ever put the windows back in the porch! They'll need lots of paint :) The window is perfect for jotting down ideas or writing my Bible study verses on. Chris also built the table for me out of a door and table legs. I sewed the table skirt and stapled Velcro strips on it, so I can hide things underneath. The vase needs flowers, but you get the gist of it all. It's nice and big, and I love it!


You can ask my mom; I have deep sentiments about doors turned into tables. I also have deep sentiments about jars and containers from Ikea. And buttons. And old pictures of my kids. Put it all together, and it's a happy table! (See that CD player? It was Addie's.)
This old cabinet was left in the house, so I painted it green and hung it over my serger table. See those rainboots on top? I've had those forever, and this year they're serving to hold nice colored pencils, even though I can't draw worth a dime. They just make me feel artistic. My mom sent me the plaque, and there's an old photo of us behind it. I have a black old plaque that says "Good morning is an oxymoron," from my sister, that needs to find a home up on the shelf, too. I laugh every time I read it.
Here's the back wall--what's left of it beside the giant space over the railing. That shadow box is one of my treasures. I've had it as long as I remember, and it holds tiny porcelain animals my mom gave me when I was growing up. I've added mementos from my children as babies, and it has been painted so many times I think it's thicker than when I got it! Look, Mom--that's our black aquarium table! It looks good in cream, doesn't it? I had to take it apart to get it up there, then reassemble it. I really wanted it there. Patterns are stored underneath, and ironing things are in the cubbies inside. To the left is a velvet framed "H" made of buttons, also borrowed from "Seams to Me." The ironing board is waiting for a new cover to match the table. Look how patient it is. That's good, because I think making an ironing board cover ranks up there with making a slipcover.
Here's a view of the railing over my bedroom, and you can see Addie's duvet cover hanging on it. I finished it today, so I'll post a photo soon. What you can't see is the high window over the opening. It faces east, so the morning sun shines in. I'd love to hang a light curtain over it, but I have a deathly/healthy fear of standing on a high ladder over a huge opening that features a hard floor 20 feet below. Call me crazy.

This is the view from my bedroom at the loft above. Of all the ideas Chris has had, and I must say he's had some good ones, this ranks high on the list. What was an unused, dark, creepy space, has been turned into a perfect sewing room. Perfect for me, anyway. :)

So now the big question is, what's The Happy Room? I'll post about that soon. :)

I'm Not Smarter Than a Goat

So, the goats. I can't really explain why I like them so much, except that they're tiny and cute and are a little bit mysterious. There's something about getting a pet whose affection you have to work for. Roxie, the bossy one, never lets up her "high alert" mode, as she's constantly staring me down to see if I'm dangerous. Caiden, ever insightful, told me last night that Roxie's "so bossy she probably tells her own blood cells what to do! 'This cell go here, this cell go there, this cell go to my heart!'" I'd like to say this is from really deep science lessons on my part, but I'm guessing it has more to do with episodes of "The Magic School Bus."

Back to Roxie. She leads the herd, and nobody does anything without her approval. I think she'd be a lot happier if she'd just chill out a little. Although I might be reading something into a situation where there's nothing to read--I am the oldest child, after all, but she is only a goat. You can ask my sister: I was bossy, too. (I like to say "was." It should maybe say "am," but this is my blog, not hers.)

And then there's Belle. She's prettier than Roxie (her beard is much shorter), but she's not the boss. Belle doesn't realize she's prettier, though, so she's quite happy to follow Roxie around and avoid her horns. She's timid and is only a shade bigger than Billy. As far as goats go, she's a delicate one.

Billy--Piggy Billy, as we've dubbed him--was the only singleton of the herd, so he had his mama all to himself, and his girth shows it. He's a tubby little thing, twice the size of the other baby, but he can frolic like nobody's business. Last night he climbed up on our "jungle gym," which is a long-dead tree that fell down and rests about five feet above the ground, and it all of a sudden occurred to me that goats are agile. That chunky little goat did literal leaps on the tree, and when he leaned over to lick Caiden's leg, I thought Caiden would fall off before Billy did. If a goat could be a teddy bear, Billy'd be one.

Left to right: Billy, Roxie, Belle, and Little Star in front. Just in case you wondered.

So anyway, getting back to the story, the first night we had the goats, we kept them in their stall in the barn while we mended fences. Don't think I didn't belt out a few lines of "Desperado" for Chris, as he nailed down hog wire by the light of the moon. He was much appreciative.

The second night, Chris was at church and Caiden and I were left to the task of herding the goats from the pasture into the barn. I went into the field, sweet-talked the four, and explained that I had great food for them in their stall. They were nonplussed.

So I walked back to the barn, grabbed their bucket of feed, and brought it to them, to show them I was serious. Little Star and Piggy Billy nibbled a little, but when I tried to lure them back by dragging the bowl toward the barn, they decided food wasn't that important.

The sun was starting to set, so I hollered at Caiden to come help. He and I flanked the goats and alternated running them down, zigzagging across the field as they first dashed to the right, then the left. At once point I might have shouted "Stupid Goats!" but I won't say for sure. I can say for sure that Caiden and I looked at each other, 45 minutes into the task, and said as one, "Goats are fast." By then I may or may not have been sweating, disheveled, and ready to turn the dogs on them.

And that's when I realized I'd have to get smarter than a goat: clearly they weren't going to be lured with food, nor herded, nor intimidated by my barking dogs on the other side of the fence. So I did what only a reasonable woman who still needs to get supper on the table does: I kidnapped Little Star. No pun intended. Well, maybe a little. I ran up behind him, and sure enough, I'm faster than a two month old goat. But only barely. I snatched him up and ran for the barn, hollering back to the other three, surprised goats, "I've got your baby! I've got your baby! Come claim him already!"

And they did. Those silly goats, long-refusing my sweet talk and bribery, and sneering at our herding attempts, dociley turned as one and trotted silently into the barn. They looked at me like I was dirt, but I was past the point of trying to win anybody's affection. I was victorious. I was also dirty, exhausted, and furious that I was going to have to do this nightly, but that's beside the point. I was victorious that day.

So imagine my surprise last night, when we returned home from an errand and headed to the field to do the whole show again, and who greeted me in the barn but four goats? Evidently goats have the instinct to seek shelter at night. Wish I'd have known that the night before. It would've saved me a lot of grief, and I wouldn't have to admit that I'm not smarter than a goat.

UPDATE!  Hey, I might be smarter than a goat, after all!  Last night the goats spent the night outside the barn, despite the cries of coyotes in the distance, and tonight we had to kidnap Little Star again to lure those silly goats into the barn--a tornado watch and impending downfall didn't seem to faze them.  Even I know to come out of the rain.  

An Interruption in the Hinting . . .

to introduce our two newest kids! (and their mamas).  

Oh, wait.  Those kids are mine.  


And he's not a kid. But he's holding one. Can you see it? That's Little Star, named by Grayson. (Interrupting this to say I wish I could see my mother's face right now. We haven't mentioned our newest acquisition to our families yet.  They already think we're crazy.  Now it's confirmed.  But what's the point of having a barn if there's nothing in it?)
I can't even tell you how early I was greeted by two little boys with boots on, begging to open the barn and feed the goats!  We finally obliged at 7:15.  It was like Christmas morning!  Except the presents were in the form of little goat pellets, ready to be raked up and thrown in the compost pile.

That's Billy in the front, with Little Star's little head in back.  Mamas Roxie and Belle didn't feel ready for pictures.  I think they're putting on lipstick in the stall. 

I've always said I wanted more kids.  Now I've got two, and the bonus is that their mamas came along, to take care of them!  It's a good deal. :)

Caiden has been sitting in the doorway of the barn, holding out carrots, for the last hour, trying to win their affection.  Grayson has spent the last hour plotting how to get us to agree to letting Little Star sleep in his bed.  (Not gonna happen.)  Scout, the retriever, has been standing at the back fence for the last hour, trying to figure out how to get in and chase them.  And the mountain lion, whose paw prints our behind-the-fence neighbors keep seeing every morning, will no doubt hear about the kids and try to figure out a way to get in, too.

It's never dull around here!

The Third Hint

You are keeping me rolling with your guesses! My favorite so far is "home waxing kit." I guarantee you that if I have a spare $50 lying around, it's not going to be for Nads. :)

So here's hint #3: It's not 100% related to cooking. Except that it sort of is! Except that it doesn't belong in the kitchen. Except that it could! But I'm not getting it for cooking. Confused?

(This reminds me of when my mom wrote our Christmas gifts on a piece of paper and put it on the fridge for us to see. But we couldn't read. Once we could, she'd write in cursive. And then she moved to shorthand. Talk about irritating! The answers were right there, but they were too puzzling to figure out. Hmmm. I guess the apple fell close to the tree, except that I can't write in shorthand. My cursive isn't even that great. But now I'm way off topic.)

So here's a bonus hint #3 1/2: If somebody guesses correctly, I won't tell you. But I will reveal the day I get the package, I promise!!

A Second Hint

It's not anything to do with sewing!

And a bonus hint: It cost less than $50, including shipping and handling.

Happy Photos

I finally uploaded the photos off my camera this morning. Here are a few that made me laugh:

Reading together on the stairs.  They look so docile!  I'm pretty sure, seconds later, they started mock sword fighting or something, but right at this moment they're behaving just like I imagined siblings always would, before I had children.  They're so close in age they're usually either fighting dramatically or are best friends forever.  It's never lukewarm with these two!

There really is a person being read to behind that book!  Addie and Caiden have a different relationship than she and Gray do.  He caters to her every whim, and she adores him.  It's a good setup!

On the stairs again.  The crown is her favorite accessory and accompanies her everywhere, even when playing in the dirt pile behind the deck.  

Another best friends moment.  I knitted Grayson Dr. Seuss-like mittens for Christmas.  Now they're actually rather brown.  They were in the dirt pile with the crown, I'm pretty sure.  Notice the infamous "Baby" in Addie's clutch.

I have no idea.  He's crazy, that one!  And I'm crazy about him.

A Hint

It's not a baby (That's for you, Mom, Bridget, and Brittani!); it's a purchase.

I just called in the order, and I'll receive the mystery package on my birthday, I think.  So no pictures this week.  One part of my order held up the rest.  So mid-February, instead.  

Any guesses?

Stopping In

to say hi!  I'm supposed to be sewing, but it's drapes, and I hate making drapes, so I'm killing time.  Except that I'm on a deadline--Chris laid down the law and said if I finish the drapes, I can __________, but I can't tell you what ____________ is, though; it's a secret!  But a very fun secret, and one that I'll hopefully reveal by the end of this week.  (Is that vague enough, or what!)

He's a clever man:  I started making our great room drapes back in early November, and three have been hanging since early December, when I ran out of fabric.  And motivation.  All I lack is one drape, but pleated drapes are not very fun to make.  The two cornice boards have to be recovered as well, so they've been sitting in my bedroom since then.  And the three-drapes-look in the great room is less than appealing.  Actually, most nights when we sit on the couch, we look up at the unfinished window treatments and say, "I wonder when we're going to finish those."  Even I say it, although I'm the "we."  So this weekend, when he agreed to something I've begged for, for months, he corrected himself:  "You can _________ once the window treatments are done."  Boom!  The next day the fourth drape was mostly finished, and the first cornice board is recovered and hung!  Amazing what a little momentum will do for a burned-out girl!

All that to say (What was I saying?), "Hi!"  But now I've got to go.  Half a drape, one cornice board, and ___________ are calling my name.  My goal is to be finished by Wednesday morning.  

I'll pop in later this week with pictures of _____________.  Mysteries, mysteries :)