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Monday, April 21, 2014

Eggs. eggs everywhere!

Eggs. Not my favorite food and to be honest, I always wondered why they were so prominent for Easter celebrations. After all it's the Easter bunny, not the Easter chicken, and bunnies don't lay eggs. However, long before I entered this world Romans and Christians shared the belief that eggs were the seed of life and for some they were symbolic of the resurrection of Christ. With that said this week-end hubby and I dyed eggs with P (2 1/2 years old) and B (6 years old.)

The idea is from Pinterest though I have done the same technique with paper in my card making endeavors. Actually, this is one of my favorite ways to just play with my paper. Rather than hard boiled eggs, we opted to use Styrofoam eggs as P has quite the grip and loves to toss things. Only drawback was hubby didn't get any deviled eggs for Easter dinner.

Assemble your tools... a dish or pan, cheap shave cream - not gel, coloring agents (we used food coloring here) and paper towels, LOTS OF PAPER TOWELS when doing with kids.

Spray shave cream in pan
Since they were boys, we erred on the side of more is better.

Drip coloring agents on the foam. A little guidance with kids or you get lots of one color...B liked green and P loved red. Oops, wonder who put that yellow in there...

Swirl colors lightly across the foam with a fork. 
Then hand them the eggs and be ready with toweling. We had two distinct styles at this point. B liked to roll his to the end of the pan and as he rolled, he pushed it further down into the "clean" foam. Of course, it was my duty to fish them out and dry them off.  Here's a look at some of his eggs and excuse the extremely light colors - they really are a lovely pastel. Overhead lighting seems to have an effect in most of these photos.


P was on the other end of the scale. Excited wouldn't describe how thrilled he was. Try as I might, I could not get a good photo of him with his eggs. His method involved throwing the eggs in all at once before the color was swirled completely, yell at the top of his lungs "Oh cool!" and clap his hands waiting for them to be fished out of the cream. Here is a sample of how his turned out. 
While I loved the pastel eggs, I was a minority. The favorite of the night using majority rules was P's very first egg 


It was so much fun, hubby and I got up early and dyed more to be used in the egg hunt later that day. 




Our only regret, we didn't have more eggs to play with. 

Parting thought:
“We are never more fully alive, more completely ourselves, or more deeply engrossed in anything, than when we are at play.”    ~       Charles E. Schaefer

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Warning, hubby cooking!

In department stores, so much kitchen equipment is bought indiscriminately by people who just come in for men's underwear.
                                                                                     Julia Child
Since hubby is not working, he does the majority of cooking and dish washing in this household. I appreciate him doing so. Appreciation doesn't mean total acceptance. 
He has an annoying habit of putting dirty dishes in the oven. His logic is it hurts no one and gives the illusion of kitchen being clean until he gets to it. His application of this logic, to be honest, has taught me otherwise. Which brings me to Monday evening's meal. 
He fixed a lovely meal that included roasted asparagus. I could hear him in the other room, hunting for his favorite spatula that is normally located in a utensil holder on the stove top. Open and close went the cupboards, open and close went the drawers. Blindly feeling around in dish water. A dialogue of  "where did I put it?", "I know it's here some where!" and the occasional "have you seen?"  tossed my way.  After 15 minutes, he gave up the hunt. The asparagus really needed to be taken out of the oven. 
How I wish I would have thought to snap a photo of his expression when he looked in the oven. Or a video because his comments regarding his discovery had me close to rolling on the floor with laughter. 
I'm pretty sure you have figured out what was baked onto the back oven wall. Once cooled and removed here is his favorite spatula. 



I am thinking I should frame this, along with the plastic cutting board he put on a hot burner. Wouldn't they make a lovely arrangement...over the stove. 

He's being a good sport and agreed to my posting this. Maybe, just maybe, when underwear shopping I will skip over to the cooking aisles for a spatula.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

So much for the New Year's resolution.

Almost April and while I normally do not make resolutions I did this year. Vowed if I was going to take up space with this blog, I best keep it active. Sounds simple and yet I failed. Oddly, for once I am not upset with myself. Well, that might not be true as I am upset with myself about falling short in many areas, this blog isn't one of them. I am upset because I still struggle with time management, connecting with family, friends and keeping current on cards I want to make and send. I admit to a struggle with how much of my private life I should reveal here as I'm getting really sick and tired of spammers and their comments.

I am not flogging myself because I have given my time to more important things and hope people will understand if I send a card months after a birthday. Some may know, heck most of you may know by now...my grandson was diagnosed with Hodgkin Lymphoma at the very young age of 2. Hodgkin Lymphoma is considered a very "curable" cancer among boys and the occasional girl - age 15 to 20. It is rare in someone his age. He has had one round of chemo which he took well except for high fevers, racing heart beat and too fast breathing. Also, random vomiting and extremely sluggish digestive tract. These issue seem to be semi- under control now so his second treatment is scheduled for Thursday or Friday (doctor's choice.)  While he is too young to understand any of this, he goes about life with the happy-go-lucky attitude of a 2 year old, Play and explore till you are exhausted. Recharge with naps and cuddle time. He chats up a storm, happy to kiss and run. He's excited for his baby sister to arrive and he's pretty sure anyone with a "belly" has a baby in it so don't be shocked if he pats said belly and talks nicely to it. He has reminded me he is a sponge who imitates and repeats, often those dreaded words people utter without thinking of children being around (thank you WM shoppers.) He doesn't understand why he is corrected and not those he heard it from.

Kudos to my daughter in dealing with this while having her own medical issues, aside from pregnancy. In a juggling act between protecting and smothering, she is a loving mother who knows he can't be allowed to get by with bad behavior just because it's easier or because he's got cancer.She is the core of his world and he knows he is loved.

So today, during some "me time",  I set about to make a birthday card, for another young boy across the big ocean, my buddy. For some reason, I was thinking back to my last conversation with him and I recalled he said he was five years old and that his mother did not correct him. So I sent Mom an e-mail to confirm his age...after I finished his card.

Quilted Four & Giraffe



Back to the drawing board, laughing at myself.


Parting thought: 
How few there are who have courage enough to own their faults, or resolution enough to mend them.
           Benjamin Franklin