So many Valentine’s festivities around here that I almost for got today was the day. I read a statistic that 85 percent of all Valentines are purchased by women. That was the case around here. I purchased all mine…but look what my sweethearts gave me this morning.
My kindergarten son asked if you could be arrested for making a paper wallet. I said no, you can be arrested for making paper money. That seemed to relieve him.
His Valentine gift to me was a “church wallet.” Alas, it was empty.
My church wallet.
Maybe I should take my tithe to the storehouse in it. It has very small paper pouches, but that probably would be enough room. We don’t have much wheat or barley around here to cram in our portion.
Here is the Valentine from my daughter. I like it very much.
From dear daughter.
Here is the valentine from out 16 year-old.
Okay. I made that. But if he had remembered to give me a Valentine, that would have been a good one for him. Like when you look over the racks of cards at the store…reading and reading (sometimes laughing, sometimes thinking that’s stupid)… and then you come across the card and think, “That’s it. That says it perfectly for me.”
That’s how my son would feel if he went out and ever, ever bought me a card.
Then here’s the one I got from my husband.
A dozen roses.
I love it! Though he had to tell me later it was a dozen roses. It doesn’t look like twelve does it? But if you sit and count them, there are definitely twelve. I shall not tell you what he wrote on the back ~ but it was very lovely.
Soo happy, Happy Valentine’s Day to you. A red letter contruction paper kind of day.
Cookies.
You know some words just look wrong.Cookies is that way for me. It needs another “e”. Cookiees.
No, that’s not good either. Makes me think of Monkees as in the 60s rock group, not species.
This year my family couldn’t squeeze cutout cookies into our Christmas experience. So this past week, my children and I made Valentine cutouts.
It was perfect! I bought one large heart cookie cutter and a miracle happened. My children somewhat patiently passed the cutter betwixt them.
We put sprinkles on some and iced some others.
Lots of teachers at the Primary and Elementary school got cookies. And one special friend of my daughter’s got one in a red box with a red bow.
I broke lots of cookies into pieces and ate lots. I felt better about this because I had broken them first into smaller pieces rather than eating one large heart at once.
I also put Cookies and Cream ice cream on a bit of cookie. That was the best.
So if you are looking for a great weekend activity with your kids ~ one that will make you want to tear your hair out.
Here’s how.
Cookie dough.
1/3 cup butter or margarine
1/3 cup shortening
2 cups flour
1 egg
3/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon baking powder
dash salt
Beat butter and shortening with mixer on high 30 seconds. Add half the flour, egg, sugar, milk, baking powder, vanilla and salt. Beat till throughly combined. Beat in remaining flour. Divide dough in half. Cover and chill 3 hours.
Roll out dough with tons of flour. Cut into your hearts. Place on an ungreased cookie sheet. Sprinkle with colored sugar or bake undecorated to frost later. Cook at 375 for 7 to 8 minutes till bottoms very lightly browned. When cool…frost
Icing.
This was more than plenty. You might want to half this recipe. But since I am horrible with math — I just made the whole thing.
3 egg whites. (Children fascinated with separating egg. My daughter asked to eat the yolk. I refused.)
3 cups powdered sugar.
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar. (This tastes even worse than baking soda. I expected something more like tartar sauce.)
Food Coloring.
I managed to talk them into the basic Valentine colors. White, pink and red rather than green and blue.
Then they went to work.
You know the best thing about this family craft/cooking moment. I didn’t even flinch that these cookies looked about as far from those on the cover of Woman’s Day as if we were going to don bathing suits and swim outside tomorrow.
Miraculously, I didn’t care. My children were having the best time. Sometimes, if you are only seconds away from ripping out every last strand of your hair, but your children are having a great time ~ that somehow makes it okay. If you in no way understand that last statement, you probably haven’t experienced parenthood. That’s okay too.
These cookies are pretty dang good. Especially if you put a little ice cream on them.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
Looks like someone was sampling icing before dry. UGH!
Cookie Dough recipe from a falling apart Better Homes New Cookbook. Icing from falling apart McCall’s Comprehensive Cookbook.
The books are surely falling apart from age rather than use. Guess that’s the way the cookbook crumbles.
The text message my daughter send her grandfather Christmas morning.
“Hi big chuck we got a dog for christmas and you’ll be happy what his name is his name is a flordia gator football player it’s Tebow.”
Tebow.
Last night sitting with my two youngest eating dinner, it was time to bless the food. Or it was time for them to fight about who was going to say grace.
Our daughter declared it her night, closed her eyes and immediately began thanking God for everything that had occurred in her life that day. Then she abruptly stopped, opened her eyes and looked at our six year old.
“Joe. That is very rude. Would you do that if you were eating with God?
It seems while Hannah and I bowed, Joe shoveled macaroni and cheese into his mouth.
This is a big violation. Eating during the prayer. Honestly, I think it is more about a sibling power struggle than insulting our Lord, but I had to agree.
“Joe. You know we don’t eat during the prayer.”
Hannie’s words stuck with me. “That is very rude. Would you do that if you were eating with God?”
Well, if dining with our Lord, I certainly wouldn’t have served mac and cheese out of a box (though Kraft Three Cheese with the shells — is quite yummy) and chicken tenders. If I had advance notice that is.
That got me thinking. Would I be doing _(fill in the blank) if I was hanging out with Jesus? Not the baby Jesus sitting there all pink, snugly and warm in a little car seat contraption. More like the 30 year old adult Jesus. One who could drive, enjoy a chocolate milkshake and pull for the Gators.
This is not about guilt or worry. More like a little check on behavior and thoughts before they become anything I need to feel guilt or worry.
It has the potential to be very freeing. Jesus will be most merciful and forgiving about the dishes that aren’t immediately out of the sink by mid morning, because he too must certainly enjoy getting his run in first.
Jesus is into relationships. And He was into doing the will of his Father.
What is the will of his Father? Funny, the more you invite Jesus into your day ~ the more the will of the Father becomes apparent.
I am writing all this while everyone is asleep and the house is quiet. This seems doable, no sweat.
Time to stick my coffee mug in the microwave one more time. Come on, Jesus. Do you like yours black? Maybe a little Sweet and Low?
No. If Jesus and I are having coffee together this morning let’s get crazy and pull out the Folgers Cinnamon Swirl and make a new pot.
Have a great Friday…. Good Grief. It’s Friday!
Oh btw, how do you think Jesus takes his coffee?
Jack's Creek Christmas Tree Farm
I was going to scream if I heard “Black Friday” one more time!
OVERKILL.
It’s not really merchants’ fault, the media just went on and on…Maybe you can relate if I mention the phrase,
“TIM TEBOW.”
I’m sure some of you screamed, but it’s really not his fault ~ he is truly too good to be human. It’s just the media goes on and on and on about his supernatural goodness.
Joke…”What did Superman dress up as for Halloween?”
“Tim Tebow.”
But this is not about Black Friday or Tebow. This is about “Green Friday.” The day after Thanksgiving when the Miles’ family goes out to Jack’s Creek to buy our tree making beautiful memories for the rest of our lives.
Well, that’s the way it used to be, until our children got older and decided they would rather hang out with visiting cousins than head out to the trees with mom and dad. And our teenager was at Auburn v. Alabama.
So just me and hubby. You would think this would be easy, this would have been fun. Not an epic battle of the wills for the ages.
Now for a number of reasons we buy the pre-cut Frazier Fur. Number one of which handing over a saw to my husband never ends well…(lots of complaining.)
And like it often is with Christmas trees and me, I experienced… LOVE at FIRST SIGHT.
Nestled in amongest the others, he was BOO-TEE-FULL! All mine!!! Then hubby looked at the tree’s stature and price.
“Jamie, it’s way too tall.”
He started pointing out other wanna bees
I held firm. To be fair, I would go and look at the other tree and though they were pretty, they just weren’t like my green firry beloved.
Then I got “the Look.”
See what I was up against.
He kept saying it was too big. We called in MCHS Junior John Dustin Hawkins who was helping out with the Morgan County Baseball team loading up trees. He rounded up one of those measuring sticks which proved that the tree would indeed fit in our hall.
Hubby kept saying, “No.”
John Dustin looked to me.
You're coming home with me...no matter what he says.
I was not going home without him. (The tree ~ my husband, I was not so sure at this point.)
YAY!
Now when we got the tree home and I finished laboring with the lights, hubby agreed. Spectatular. The ornamments aren’t even on yet.
This year, I have thought…what are the three things that matter most to me about the holidays and the rest I promise myself not to stress over.
Number one would be the tree.
So when I saw him, I just knew he was special.
So special, guess what Tim Tebow will be dressed as next year for Halloween?
(Insert photograph of our tree when he’s all decked out.)
Please tell me someone can relate.
Me, on laundry day.
I really, really can’t stand to do laundry but it is a necessary evil.
EVIL.
No, it’s not evil per se. Honestly, I don’t mind the filling the washer, folding the warm dry clothes and putting them away. Okay, I do hate putting clothes away or taking them to my children’s room where they just sit because they don’t care to put them away.
What is evil is the incredible time suck doing laundry is!
One recent morning lifting clothes out of dry to fold, I picked up this little white cotton t-shirt. It was so deliciously warm. Holding it in my hands, I tried to figure out how to fold it. I couldn’t find the sleeves. But then I discovered what I thought looked sleeves were also what I thought was the neck opening to the wee crew of the t-shirt.
Was this some sleeveless 4T muscle shirt? If so,where was the neck opening?
For pity’s sake. The more I wrestled with the article of clothing, it became apparent it was…….
Not, mine. I Swear.
UNDERWEAR!
How on earth? It was a size 8. I surmised “it” was female for there were no openings up front. The clincher clue was that the brand tag on the inside read “Lollipop.”
From whence did this size 8, gargantuan pair of female “Lollipop” underwear spring forth?
First, ruled out two little ones. Just no way.
From there, I didn’t know. The pair must be somehow connected to my teenager rather than my husband. I hope. I think I hope? That evening, none of the main suspects were forthcoming with any answers.
Feverishly racking my brain, it came to me. Living in a century old house, they must belong to…a ghost.
A rather modest ghost.
But I like that. I shall fold up the “Lollipops” and put them on the stairwell sewell post sitting there ready for her this evening. She’ll appreciate having clean underwear after who knows how long. She must have been so desperate one night she threw them in the laundry pile.
I like that our ghost is into cleanliness and modesty. 🙂
Maybe there’s hope for the rest of us.
Have a great weekend.
