Photogenic Friday: Holiday Bloopers

Attempting to get pictures for our Christmas card

They did not care for the box

Halfway through lighting the tree.
Slightly frazzled.
Someone was playing with the camera
I'll give you a hint:
It wasn't the bunnies
Andy's idea of a good Christmas card photo

What are the holiday's like at your house?

Only two weeks 'till Christmas!

I'm off to spend the weekend in festive
frivolity!
Have a great one!

Kid-speak

Several years ago, when I was in college, I spent a summer working in a preschool in my hometown. I was in the two year old room which provided many laugh-out-loud moments throughout the months I was there.

One morning in particular stands out in my mind.

One of the students, a little boy, had an amazing memory. He could look at a map of the US and point out all 50 states and tell you their capitols. It was really impressive. This is usually how he filled his mornings before everyone got there and the day began. He did it so much that by the end of the summer I could recite them all from memory without looking at a map.

Each morning he'd sit down with the map and begin to recite everything he knew. It didn't matter if anyone was listening. He just liked to do it. But often the other students would watch him for a few minutes to see if they could beat him to North Carolina.

For the most part he didn't need any help, but once in a while he would get confused and have to ask which state was which.

This was one of those mornings. He got to a state and asked, "Miss S! Which state is this?" I looked over his shoulder and replied, "Oh. That's Utah."

At which point another student, a little girl who'd been watching the whole thing, assumed an air of complete offense and said, "Hey! I'm tall too!"

Ba-dum-bum

I didn't laugh right away. I just told her that she was indeed tall too and walked away to turn my back and laugh. She wasn't tall. She was the shortest kid in the class. But she didn't know that and that's the only thing that matters.

On a snowy day in January long, long ago

I'm really only guessing it was in January. It could have been March. Mom? Josh? Are you there? Do you remember when this happened?


Things I remember about this very snowy day:

• I was wearing a pair of my mom's snow boots
• In order to keep the boots on and make sure no snow got inside them my feet were covered with plastic bags
• Walking around was slippery
• When we started you couldn't see the grass in the yard
• At the end you could
• I wasn't much help because I was small (and undoubtedly whiny)
• Most of my time was spent walking around behind my mom and brother while they rolled this giant snow ball around the yard
• I took my job as snowman cheerleader very seriously
• Probably not. Most likely I kept asking if we were going inside soon.
  
• They used all the snow in the front yard for the body and had to go to the back yard to build the head
• When we were done Josh and I posed proudly for a photo next to our snowman
• A snowman that I had very little hand in making
• My mother is very generous

I've never really liked playing in the snow. I love watching it come down while I'm next to a fire, reading a book. But, as a kid I only played in the snow because that's what you're supposed to do. It sounds like a lot of fun, and it is for about five minutes until your appendages start to go numb and your eyes want to water, but can't because the tears freeze before they can make it out.

The house we grew up in had a wood stove that we used for heat. On snowy days we would go outside and tromp around, getting lots of snow stuck to ourselves. My favorite part was when we were back inside we would pull the clumps of snow off our clothes and throw them onto the side of the wood stove. Watching it sizzle and evaporate was the best part of playing in the snow. Standing there in the heat from the stove, careful never to touch it, we had the most fun. There was something about the snow outside and the comfort the stove provided. It made me feel peaceful.

Despite all of that, this particular day, the day we made the giant snowman, has stayed with me as one of the happiest days of my childhood. I don't remember the cold, but I remember spending time with my mom and brother and the sense of accomplishment we all felt when the snowman was complete. It was a day spent in total carefree frivolity. No worries, save to finish the snowman.

It was a day spent in love.

Mrs.Kringle's Cookie bake off!

Psst!

I entered a cookie contest. After you read my post please go vote for me. If I win I get lots of awesome prizes. And if you go leave a comment and vote for your favorite cookie you can win something too!

Click here to vote for me and view other contestant entries.

This year I thought Santa might like something different when he comes calling. I know the standard is chocolate chip cookies, but those have to get old after the first thousand or so. Don't you think?

I was wracking my brain to come up with something wonderful for Santa, but just couldn't think what to do.

So I had a conference with Santa's helpers.

Wouldn't you know, those sweet little things came right to my rescue. They are partial to recipes including carrots and were positively insistent that I should use those as my feature ingredient. I gave in. They are Santa's helpers after all and they know him better than me.

I spent all afternoon in the kitchen grating carrots and sifting flour to create the perfect Carrot Cake Cookies for Santa.

Once I finished I asked his helpers if they would be so kind as to taste test them for me. "Why of course!" they exclaimed.

"They certainly smell lovely!
Or am I only smelling the carrots?"
"Oh yes! These are positively
delightful!"

The helpful helpers passed judgment on the cookies, "These are certain to be Santa's new favorite cookie!"

So, in case you are reading this Santa, I just wanted you to know that we are ready for you. The halls are decked and the stockings are hung. You're the only thing missing.

And your new favorite cookie is waiting with a nice, cold glass of milk.

But you'd better hurry or your helpers might eat them all.

Carrot Cake Cookies with White Chocolate Cream Cheese Icing

2 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
2 T ground cinnamon
2 sticks unsalted butter, softened
1 cup packed brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
2 eggs
1 (8 oz) can crushed pineapple, drained
3/4 cup shredded carrots
1 cup raisins
1 cup wheat germ
1 1/2 cups old fashioned oats
1 cup chopped walnuts

Preheat oven to 350. Line a baking sheet with parchment.

In a large bowl sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. Set aside.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter, brown sugar and granulated sugar until smooth. Add the eggs one at a time. Scrape down the sides of the bowl.

Beat in the pineapple, carrots and raisins until well incorporated. Scrape down the sides of the bowl again.

Add the wheat germ and flour mixture to the batter and mix until combined.

Remove the bowl from the mixer and fold in the oats and walnuts.

Drop in rounded tablespoons onto the cookie sheet about 2 inches apart. The cookies will spread considerably while baking. Bake for about 20 minutes, until the cookies begin to brown slightly around the edges.

Allow to cool slightly on the cookie sheet before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.

For the icing:

1 (12 oz) bag white chocolate chips
1 (3 oz) package cream cheese, room temperature

In a double boiler, over medium-low heat, melt the white chocolate chips. Once melted add in the cream cheese. It's important for it to be room temperature. If the cream cheese is still cold it will cause the chocolate to seize up. If this happens just put the mixture back over the double boiler and stir until it's smooth.

Use a fork to drizzle the mixture over the cooled cookies. Allow the icing to set.

Or go ahead and eat a cookie because you can't wait!

*Baker's note and a disclaimer:

The walnuts and raisins are optional. I didn't put raisins in mine because we don't like them.

Also, these cookies are, of course, for humans. I don't feed my bunnies cookies. However, Milton did take a little nibble before I realized he was eating a cookie and not a carrot.

Photogenic Friday: Devil Bunny

Last Saturday Andy and I got out of the house for a while and went to town.

We left the bunnies out of their cage like we always do. Usually they entertain themselves and are fine while we're gone.

I don't know what exactly got into Milton. Maybe he was upset that I didn't give him his nightly vegetables before we left. Or perhaps he didn't care for being left all alone. Except he wasn't alone he had his brother for company. Company that he generally prefers over Andy and I.

Whatever got stuck in his craw he decided to let us know it.

When we got home this is what we found:

Click photo to enlarge

He stretched himself out in the middle of the mess and waited for us to get home. When we saw him he looked up at us like, "What? I've been an example of good behavior. This is Brunswick's fault."

As a matter of fact Brunswick was sniffing around the disaster and when we came in he hopped over to me and nudged my leg as if to say, "I had nothing to do with it."

There really wasn't anything to do besides laugh and clean up the mess.

But we are going to get some plastic containers to store everything in so he can't do this again.

Have a great weekend!

For "Anonymous"

Yes, retentive is misspelled in my blog header.

Let me also point out, Oh Great Spell Checker, that there is another mistake that you didn't seem to catch. Can you find it?

I knew these mistakes were there. I didn't change them because by the time I realized it I was tired of dealing with the damn thing. I've admitted before that I'm not exactly technologically savvy and after spending so much time trying to get the sizing right (which it still isn't) I couldn't make myself look at it in photoshop anymore. I'm also not a patient person.

But please, go ahead and keep hiding behind your anonymity if that makes you feel good about yourself.

There are more important things on this blog than my header. I'm not getting paid to write it and no one is forcing you to read it.

While I am anal "retantive" I'm not perfect and I enjoy my flaws.

I'll admit that your comment got under my skin at first and I wanted to tell you where you could stick it, but please keep coming back and posting your little quips. You are, after all, my first troll which means I'm moving up in the world. Thanks.

Blessings

These past few days I've been living my life on the sofa with my nose stuck in a book. Two books actually, which is very unlike me. I usually like to stick to one at a time, but they're both so good. How can I choose?

Also I'm procrastinating because I have things on my mind and I've been trying to decide how best to put them in writing. Or if I should write them at all.

I try not to overwhelm my blog with melancholy posts about my car crash. There for a while recovery was my life so that's what I wrote about, but now it isn't. Recovery is still part of my daily routine, but it isn't as physical as it used to be. There are still daily physical reminders that I can't ignore, but there are only so many times that I can tell you my face hurts before you get tired of reading it.

I get tired of saying it.

I also get tired of feeling it, but that's my reality and I'm dealing with it.

This all started on Thanksgiving day. Everyone takes a moment that day to express their gratitude for the blessings in their lives. I have so much to be thankful for and I always have, but this year my gratitude stays on the surface always wanting to burst through. I can't really explain how I feel. How glad I am to be alive.

Anyway, back to last Thursday. Before everyone got here Andy and I took a moment to tell each other how much we love one another and how grateful we are to have the other person in our lives. Andy doesn't like to be serious. He makes a joke out of most situations, but when he told me he was glad I was there with him because I almost died, I knew he wasn't joking. He may have made a joke two seconds later, but you don't know someone for ten years and not be able to see behind their mask. I just let him be silly and made a joke right along with him because that is how he deals. And he has done so much for me I at least owe him that.

So we went about our day. Cooking and tidying the apartment for our company. But the rest of the day (and every day since then) I've been counting my blessings.

Last Wednesday I spent the entire day on my feet. Pretty much from the time I got out of bed until I laid down again. It made my ankle hurt. A lot. I did it so that Thursday I could spend a little less time in the kitchen and enjoy the day. I spent the morning watching the parade and when Andy got home from hunting we watch the national dog show together. But my ankle still hurt just sitting on the sofa. Then it was time for more kitchen activity. My ankle hurt. My face also hurt because the weather changed and got colder and I was talking and smiling to entertain our company.

But all of the little pains were inconsequential. My brain registered them, but that was about it. All I could think of the whole day was how glad I was that we were hosting Thanksgiving in our home for our families. I felt like I might burst with the joy of simply cooking a meal. Granted, it wasn't a small meal, it was a major undertaking, but it was mine. I owned it. And most importantly I was able to do it. I stood on my own two feet and used my hands to craft a meal for my family. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

I felt like I was me again. The "before" me. I've changed and I know that. I'm not the same person I was before my crash. But for a short time I could forget it all. Even the physical reminders weren't enough to bring me down of my mountain.

Sure there was stress, but even stress is a welcome emotion when I couldn't so much as fix myself a bowl of cereal a few months ago. Hell, I couldn't have eaten a bowl of cereal if someone had fixed it for me.

Sometimes "gratitude" doesn't seem like a big enough word.

And then I have a bad day. Not even a bad day, but a bad moment.

I have no memory of sirens the day of the accident. I don't know if they used them, but if they did I didn't hear them. I remember when the ambulance and first responders got there, but the sounds I remember don't include sirens.

Yet when I hear a siren now it's like a gun going off. My heart starts to race and I say a little prayer for whoever is hurting or in trouble. It's become an automatic response for me.

This morning I woke up to the sound of sirens. I don't know what the emergency was, but it was a big one because there were several sirens and they were all honking their horns for cars to get out of the way. You couldn't sense their urgency. Usually after I say my prayer I can move on with the day. I've been awakened by sirens before, but today was different.

I went back to that day. To the aftermath and I couldn't seem to get a grip on the present. I was safe in my bed, but for some reason I couldn't shake the feeling that I had. Someone was hurting like I had hurt. Someone might not be as fortunate as I was.

This happens sometimes and it's like I need something to hold on to so I can get myself back. Usually it's Andy.

So I slid over in bed to snuggle up against him and automatically the world turned right side up again. Just like it always does when he's there.

Do you see how being grateful sometimes is not enough?

I've also been thinking lately about survival, and how survival is not always what people think.

Surviving is different from living.

I like to think that I am living. I certainly try. I think if I were just surviving then mornings like I had today would ruin the whole day. Maybe even drag me under for a few days.

But it didn't. I'm alright now.

I know that I have Andy to thank for that.

I have a lot of people to thank. The EMTs, first responders, doctors and medical staff for one thing. They all helped give me my life.

But my family and friends help me to live it.

I am blessed.

I am grateful.