The Very Best! Chocolate Chip Cookies! (So far)

I love to bake and cook. It makes me feel like a good old-fashioned frontier mama. I am ok with my kids eating loads of sugar and fat, as long as I made it from scratch. Lately it is also a great way to keep our grocery budget down.

Oddly, for someone who is as knowledgable and experienced

as I am with cooking, (more a reference to my age than an opportunity to brag) I have had a surprisingly hard time making really good chocolate chip cookies. I know, chocolate chip cookies are like pizza, or sex, or the B-52s, even when they are bad, they are good. but I wanted them great. Mine tend to spread and get to soft and gooey or to crispy. I even tried (gasp) butter-flavor Crisco. The texture was great, but the flavor was artificial and off-putting.

All of this, however, was not what led me to try whole wheat chocolate cookies, it was just normal, everyday guilt. I wanted to make cookies, and I wanted them healthy. I thought if I looked up a recipes, I might find one that toned down the "too healthy" flavor that whole wheat baking products sometimes brings to baked goods.

I found a food blog that apparently everyone else in the world knew about but me, and a recipe for whole wheat chocolate chip cookies that this girl positively raved about. I proceeded to follow the recipe to a T, including, using cold butter, which I have never done for cookies. I also chilled them before I baked them, another thing I never do for chocolate chip cookies. But, I was resigned, and a little defeated with my near misses in chocolate chip cookie greatness, so I was extra compliant.

Wow! OhMyGoodness!!

Amazing Chocolate Chip Cookies!!

(I have to go get one to eat right now, so I can describe them correctly.)

Great shape. Crispy, giving way to a chewy center, but not too soft. The slight graininess of the whole wheat perfectly offsets the creamy chocolate chips. The taste of butter comes through, but doesn't overpower. They are sturdy but not too much. They are perfect!

Please try this recipe and tell me what you think.

Is love passive?

1 Cor 13:4 Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy, love does not parade itself, it is not puffed up; 5) does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; 6) does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; 7) bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 8a) Love never fails.

1 Cor 13:13 And now, abide faith, hope love, these three, but the greatest of these is love.

Most people know these verses. They are read at Christian and secular weddings alike. They are written on plaques, and stitched into pillows. Many can quote them, in part or in full. I wonder, though, if we really know what they means. Verses four through six are somewhat self-explanatory. It is verse seven that caught my attention today, particularly the latter part of verse 7 where it says “(love) endures all things.” I saw love as a small blond child patiently waiting out a rainstorm, completely inactive, but present. She was enduring the worst storms of life. My view of love was a thing, being acted upon by outside influences, but quietly withstanding, continuing to exist. Somehow, this morning, I saw it completely differently.

Love is an active participant of daily life. It is there, available for me as I go through my day. I thought about how hard it is for me to act lovingly sometimes, particularly while driving, or impatiently shopping, or when my kids dare to reveal their true nature, as sinners dependent on the grace of God. I realized that the enduring nature of love is an active endurance. I believe what that verse means is that the activity of love (long suffering, kindness, lack of envy, lack of pride, putting others first, all the things mentioned in the preceding verses) endures the daily difficulties of life, not just the storms. Love is not something that should only exist, quietly, deep within us, it is something that should be seen, its unselfish character unique in the trials it endures. This verse says if I have love, I can be patient when my kids talk back. If I have love, I do not have to envy, but I can be content, even happy for those who have been blessed more than I have. If I have love, it will be seen, it will be active, it will change the way I respond to life’s challenges. Where does love come from? 1 John 4:16 And we have known and believed the love that God has for us. God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him.

Christians, let’s love with a love that is visible to all. Let’s take God up on His promise that love will endure all, not just the great catastrophes, but the daily inconveniences.

Putting together the What to dos, with the How it's dones

I began a personal study for, at best, mixed motives. I ended a relationship with a family member who called himself a Christian. In my zeal to call him into account, I began studying the New Testament looking for what a Christian life looked like. I wanted to prove that this person was not a Christian. I was doing a good thing, studying the New Testament, for a bad reason, not my own sanctification, but to shine light on someone else’s sin.

God did a work in my heart. First, I started reading a book called “Because He Loves Me” by Elise Fitzpatrick. Second, He supernaturally took away my anger and thirst for vengeance, and replaced it with forgiveness. This completely changed my study of what a Christian life looks like. Now I realize that keeping God’s commandments is evidence of the Christian walk. It is not what we have to do to be saved, it is what we are empowered to do once we are saved.

The Scripture that started it all was 1Cor 15:50b “nor does corruption inherit incorruption."

I wondered if you could tell a Christian by their actions. I still do. I copied all the scriptures I saw that addressed, not a believer’s heart, but their behavior. I will try to bring in the surrounding scriptures so I can learn why and how a Christian behaves like a Christian.

My prayer is that God would apply this to my heart so I would know why I should live a Christian life, and where the power to do so comes from.

1Pet 2:24 (21-24) 21) For to this you were called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that you should follow His steps: 22 )Who committed no sin, nor was deceit found in His mouth, 23)who, when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten, but committed Himself to Him who judges righteously; 24)who Himself bore our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, having died to sins, might live for righteousness- by whose stripes you were healed.

I think the above verses are the linchpin of what I am trying to learn. Verse 24 tells how we can follow the example of verses 22 and 23

This is the What to do:

Gal 5:19-24 19) Now the works of the flesh are evident, which are: adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lewdness, 20) idolatry, sorcery, hatred, contentions, jealousies, heresies, 21) envy, murders, drunkenness, revelries, and the like, of which I tell you beforehand, just as I also told you in time past, that those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.

22)But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23) gentleness, self-control. Against such there is no law.

This is the How it's done:

Gal 5:24-26 24) And those who are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. 25) If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit. 26) Let us not become conceited, provoking one another, envying one another.

I think the above verse is saying that if we try to produce the fruit of the spirit by our own work, we will become conceited. The work of the flesh is “work” things we do. The fruit of the spirit is “fruit” something that spontaneously appears and grows.

I have a feeling that as I go through this very extensive study, I will find all the "hows" right along with the "whats".

Amazing Grace, again

I have been struggling with anger and unforgiveness for about three weeks. I recently ended a relationship with a closely related family member. This person was, at best a hindrance to my family, and at worst, potentially dangerous. I sent a letter explaining why I ended our relationship, sighting Corinthians 5:12 and Deuteronomy 19:19. I took about a week to write it, was careful to leave emotion out of it, and supported every word with scripture. I wrote a similar one to the family member’s spouse, and thought that would be the end of it.

It was only the beginning. I was enraged that there was no reaction. I quickly realized that part of my motivation in sending the letter was to cause hurt, embarrassment, or maybe anger in the one receiving it. This person, who caused so much pain to so many people, was getting off scot-free again! I was angry every single day. It didn’t matter how illogical it was. There was nothing anyone could tell me that would help. The anger and desire to inflict pain was affecting me physically. My stomach was hurting, and I was tense and irritable with my own family. I took to writing down bible verses that I felt applied to this person. I thought maybe another letter was due. I was going to make this person see himself the way I, and I was sure, God, saw him. I tried to find reasons not to forgive. “The bible says to forgive our brothers, this person only claims to be, and besides, they’ve never repented,” was what I told myself. I couldn’t imagine that I would ever be able to forgive. Yet I knew, that in order for God to forgive my many sins against Him, I would have to forgive this person’s sins against me. But I couldn’t do it.

Until yesterday. While I was doing a study for a completely different reason I came across the following scriptures.

Romans 12:14 Bless those who persecute you and do not curse. 17) Repay no one evil for evil. Have regard for good things in the sight of all men. 19) Beloved, do not avenge yourselves, but rather give place to wrath, for it is written, Vengeance is Mine, I will repay says the Lord. 21) Do not be overcome with evil, but overcome evil with good.

With those verses, and His gentle persistent love, God loosened my childish fingers that were tightly clenching rocks to hurl. The resentment and poison that had been my hidden companions for years, and obvious companions for weeks, vanished.

God knows what was done. Every secret thing will be brought to light. More importantly, I too have hurt people. I do not want to be repaid for the cruel remarks I have made, or the selfish acts of unkindness I have committed.

I truly forgive this person. When his sins against me are measured against my sins against God, there is no comparison. I also have some repenting to do to the people I have hurt.

I am so grateful to God for doing what I could not do, freeing my heart of the shackles of anger and unforgiveness.

It was an act of pure grace that set me free, again.

...and to my amazing husband.

Dear Steve,

How do I even begin to express who you are and what you mean to me? I was not me without you.

You are reserved, cautious, and thoughtful. You seldom make rash decisions, and you always count the cost. This is the perfect foil for my forwardness and impetuousness.

You are stable and constant, as you promised you would be. You have given me a target to land on whenever my flightiness overtakes me.

You believe in me, in my ability, and in my character. You have always believed more in my talent than I did. Because of your belief in me, I can be creative.

You have amazing self-discipline and self-control. You know right from wrong. You live life and make decisions according to your conscience rather than your feelings. Because of your self-control, I have learned its importance. You have a black and white worldview and this comforts me because I can be overwhelmed by shades of gray.

Your protectiveness has enabled me to fight for what is right, and then retreat behind you because I know you will finish the fight with me.

Your love helps me be a good wife. I am safe with you, like I have never been safe before. I know that you belong to me, and that you always will. Because of your example, I am a better person. You have always expected more of me than I expect of myself. From the first day we met, you have seen me for who I could be. I want to be who you think I can be.

Because of your gentleness, I am a good mother. You were so patient and insistent on our children being raised in a peaceful loving home. Because of your active involvement, they have been. Our children exhibit your characteristics every day, and every time I see them acting like you, I am grateful. The kids are quick to love, quick to forgive, and have high expectations for their own behavior. Because of you, we have a close, open, loving family. This happened because you did not let me raise them in the way that came naturally to me, but in the way that was right.

In addition to all of this, I just simply love you. You are fun, funny, and passionate. When I hear something funny or sad, I want to tell you. When you are gone, I want you home. When I am away from you, I want to be with you. The best parts of my day are the parts spent with you. I still look forward to being with you the way a girl in high-school looks forward to being with her boyfriend. When I think of you, I smile, like I am right now. I really think you are the most amazing man I have ever met, and I am still shaking my head in disbelief that you belong to me.

I look at my life and see the times that God’s grace was poured out. All throughout my childhood, God’s love and grace were there, comforting and protecting me. All of the love I missed as a child and more is mine as your wife. You are truly one of God’s greatest gifts to me. The best I can do, since a gift is not something that can be earned, is to try everyday, to be worthy of you, and the One who gave you to me.

I love you,

Bethany

To My Amazing Inlaws

June 3, 2010

Dear Nonnie and Poppie,

I am writing this letter to express my gratitude for what you have done, and who you have been to me.

It is impossible, on Steve’s birthday, not to think of you both. You contributed so much more than DNA to my husband.

Nonnie,

From you he received a kind heart, loyal to family above all. You passed on your tenderness, sweetness, and humility. From you, Steve learned how fragile and precious a child’s heart is; that it must be protected, nurtured, and guarded. He learned the importance of hugs, kisses, and saying “I love you.” He learned that the people you love will make mistakes, and you must forgive them. You taught him that God is his Creator, and that God is Love. You taught Steve respect and reverence for God, and love for Jesus. Because of this, he carefully weighs his decisions, and lives like there is something more than just this life.

Steve has always felt loved by you. He has always known that you think he is amazing man. Because of your belief in him, he is always striving to be the man you see when you look at him.

Poppie,

You taught my husband how to be a man, never a boy, (except sometimes for his sense of humor, in that, Steve is about 12 years old!) Steve takes responsibility for his family, his career, and his life. He never makes excuses, and he never accepts less than “110%” from himself. He expects less of others and more of himself. He is fiercely protective of the kids and me. He is brave, dedicated, and selfless, just like you. I knew, years ago, that if Steve turned out like you I would be a very lucky woman, and that my children would be lucky too. Well, he is more like you every day. Sweet, funny, occasionally stubborn, but truly the best husband and father any family could ask for.

The two of you together created a home and a family that was a safe and loving place for my husband to grow up in. You taught him the importance of hospitality and generosity. You raised, with your patience, approval, and occasional disapproval, a man that I pray my sons become like. You have given me more than I ever hoped for when you raised Steve the way you did. I have a husband who is kind, loyal, appreciative, and loving, just like his parents.

Today, on Steve’s birthday, I thank you both, from the bottom of my heart. I hope that I can do half as good of a job with your grandkids as you have done. This letter barely expresses how I feel about you both. To truly say how I feel would take pages and pages.

I love you,

Your Daughter,

Bethany

Hello again...

I am "micro-blogging" on Facebook, and writing for a living. I am, as you can tell, not blogging. Since I was last here, I began working for farmers as the marketing director for a small CSA. CSA stands for Consumer Supported Agriculture. I love feeling like I am doing something good. God is speaking to me about how a Christian should act, and I am searching that out in the word. I am curious and excited about what God will be doing in my life, and my families life in the second half of the year.

I am also trying to win a set of books for the summer as part of a contest called Covenant of Love

Those of you who know me are no doubt thinking that the last thing I need is more books. Just the same, I would like to win them.

I found the contest when I discovered a very interesting sounding book called "Imaginary Jesus". It led to this great blog, and contest. I am always happy to see what others are talking about.

School year part 2

Whew! The kids are back in school. Another opportunity for me to make a completely different set of resolutions.

1. I will use my Crock-Pot more often.

2. I will sit at the table with my kids while they do their homework.

3. They will always have clean uniforms and socks. The socks will be folded in their drawers, not in the "sock basket" in my room.

4. I will expect more of my kids around the house.

I am very happy with some of the changes I have made this year. I am up before the kids, instead of at the same time as them. They get a hot breakfast more often than not. And, umm, let's see, actually, that's pretty much it.

I enjoy the rhythm of having school age children. It forces the day into a schedule. The days and weeks matter. I have an endless supply of rotating, seasonal artwork for my cupboard door. I am energized by being around my 15 year old's friends. Also, I listen to much better music than I would without my kids.

Then and Now

I am watching Fame with Katie, the original, not the new, "High School Musical 4" one. It is a little rough, but I love it. Irene Cara just sang "Out Here on my Own". When I first saw this movie, back when I was about 12 or 13, that song meant so much to me. I loved the idea of being tough, of depending on someone else being a choice, not a given. Now that I am 41, I think taking pride in being strong is definitely for young women. I am not strong. I am completely dependent on the people around me. I can't even find the appeal of that song anymore, except for Irene Cara's amazing voice. I was tough, when I was a single mom, when I was trying to be a mom to young children. I was tough when I was trying to work out my relationship with extended family. I was tough when I was trying to figure out what was important in friendships, and coming to terms with my career. I don't care anymore about being tough. At the same time, I want my daughters to be tough. Just not too tough, and not for too long. I hope when they are 41, that tears spring easily to their eyes. I hope they can ask for help, and that they can depend on their husbands, but before that, I hope they are, at least a little tough.

Here's to doing things differently

New Year's Day is here. As you may know, my New Year's resolution is to stop complaining. I won't cheat and complain in this blog. I won't find creative ways to tell you things, "just stating facts" but really, complaining. I am an inveterate complainer. I am going to change the way I think. I have a feeling I am going to be a little Pollyanna. The only way I know, right now, to change the way I communicate, is to look on the bright side. My other option is to not talk (or write) about things at all. Consistency is not one of my strong points, so making it a year will be an incredible victory.

A New Year, A New Me

I have decided on a New Years resolution. I love New Years, and New Years resolutions. I love the idea of a clean start. I like new things, wiping away the old. I love the idea that the old is gone and the new is come. I put a lot of thought into my resolutions every year. I average about four days for keeping a resolution. I have resolved to quit smoking, quit cussing, quit gossiping, and, of course, lose weight. I have quit smoking, (on my 40th birthday, not New Years) I cuss less, I love gossiping, but don't indulge as much as I like, and I am no where near my ideal weight. When I told my husband I wanted to blog about my New Years resolution, he asked why I would want to put it out there publicly. When I told my 19 year old what my resolution was he laughed. Not a little chuckle, but a full on bust out, belly laugh. He found my resolution far too vague. It's nice to know the two most important men in my life have so much faith in me.

So what is this resolution that my husband and son find so amusing? The resolution that they are sure I can't keep? I resolve to not complain, for a year. I realize that it is going to take a change in how I think. I have been told by many different people, over many years, that I tend to be negative. I don't want to be negative anymore. I complain about my health and how busy I am. The truth is, I am thrilled that I have two part-time jobs that I love. Most of my health issues are due to my weight, therefore, my fault. There is nothing to complain about if I am not willing to do what needs to be done to make myself healthy. I will have to find a different way of speaking. In order to do that, I need to find a different way of thinking. I am hoping to use this blog to keep myself accountable. Wish me luck.

I've missed you

I loved writing this blog. I loved shouting into the wind. I loved sharing my life with the anonymous and not so anonymous masses. I miss it very much.

I have been writing for Neighbors Newspaper and more recently Taste of Temecula. I have been working on two young adult novels, and four actual young adults. I have been trying, along with my husband, to get a family that strayed from who we know we are, back on track. On top of everything, I discovered Facebook. In all of that, blogging simply fell off the plate. I would like to make room for it again.

There are mommy-bloggers out there infinitely more talented and funny than I am. I am going to keep blogging anyway. I know a lot of us are aspiring writers, and it always inspires me to know how other women are managing writing, working and raising a family. Please, if you have discovered this blog, or rediscovered it, please let me know. I am more likely to keep at it if I think I am letting people down by not writing.

Birth Days

Yesterday was Katie's 15th birthday. She had about 6 friends over for dinner and to spend the night. I was busy cooking, and baking all day. We served the girls tremendous amounts of ribs, potato salad, and spinach strawberry salad and cake. The cooking and baking and cleaning up from cooking and baking took the whole day. I loved doing it, but I forgot to do something else, something I always do on my kids birthdays.

At the end of the day, as Steve and I were getting ready for bed, he called Katie out of her room. He enveloped her in a big "Daddy" hug and kissed the top of her head.

"I remember the day you were born, Punkin," he said. "I remember almost every single detail of that day. The day you were born was one of the best days of my life."

That was when I remembered what I forgot. Every year on my kids birthdays I tell them about the day they were born. I grabbed Katie's hands, at 10:00pm right there in our upstairs hallway and began her story.

"The night before you were born, Aunt Nisey and I went to Claim Jumper. We split an I'd'eclair. When we got home I couldn't sleep. I made Aunt Nisey get up with me and play Horse."

"And Aunt Nisey won even thought you cheated," Katie broke in.

"That's right, and when I woke up, very early the next morning I told Daddy my water broke, and he thought I was kidding." I was trying to hurry because I knew she was eager to get back to her girlfriends so they could start their movie marathon. I tried to fast-forward to the important parts.

Each of my children have a birth day story. "I was painting your Nursery" begins Alex's. The day of David's birth came after weeks of false labor, so I was making a sandwich for Alex to take to school in case I was not really in labor. I was with my sweet mother-in-law when I realized I was in labor with Annie. We were at my doctor's office, but instead of going straight to the hospital, I insisted on going home first. I wanted to eat and wait for Steve to get home. I worked on a blanked I was making for my niece while I breathed through contractions.

The kids have heard these stories many times. They could tell the stories as well as I can. Three of them are old enough to roll their eyes at my sentimentality. I continue to tell them though, because I can. Because I am here and I can. They don't understand how important their history is, or maybe they do. Maybe they are just following kid code by acting annoyed. Maybe they secretly love hearing it. Maybe they love hearing the story in which they are the star, the story about the day that, without them, would have been just like any other day. No-one can tell me about the day I was born. My kid's history goes much farther back back than mine does. My history goes back only as far as I can remember. My kids history goes back farther than they can remember, it goes back as far as I can remember. If I keep telling them, about the day they were born, about how much they were wanted, these memories will become their own.

Cooking Chili on a Cold March Day

I know lots of people make chili. Many make it from scratch. Here is how and why I make chili.
I always decide to make chili when I see the leftover odd cut pork chops for sale at Fresh and Easy. I can get a large package for very little and I feel pleasantly frugal. I then look for the least expensive beef I can find. Sometimes it is poorly cut roast, or stew meat. This time I use cube steak. The long slow cooking will break it down and this notoriously tough meat and make it melt-in-your-mouth-tender. I picture my crowded disheveled pantry. Do I have dry beans? Any kind will do, although I prefer an even mix of red beans and kidney beans. In the produce aisle, I pick the chiles. Slightly hot pasillas, mild but flavorful anaheims, and sometimes jalapenos for extra heat, but not this time. I do buy bell peppers. I always have onions and garlic, and I usually have canned tomatoes. I am not as picky about the tomatoes for chili as I am for my red sauce, (spaghetti sauce to you non-Italians) so I can use the Hunt's or Del Monte that Steve occasionally buys. I remember that I have plenty of chili powder and cumin.
After church, I start the chili. I measure out 3/4 of a cup of red beans and 3/4 of a cup of kidney beans. I rinse them and put them in a pot of water to boil. Then, every single time, I look in the pot and decide there are not enough beans. Every time, I measure out another 1/2 a cup of each kind of beans and add them to the pot. I don't know why I don't start with a 1 and 1/4 cups of each kind of bean, but I don't.
While the beans are coming up to a boil, I prepare the meat to be browned. The pork takes longer to prepare because there are all sorts of bones and fat that must be trimmed away. Both meats are cut in to large chunks and browned in small batches. If you try to brown them in large batches, as I did today with the beef, it steams instead of browning, and turns an unappealing grey.
I multi-task when I make chili. The beans are trying to boil, and I am keeping an eye on the many batches of meat I must brown. Now the peppers and onions must be chopped. Peppers are hard on knives. I start by sharpening my cleaverish knife. I split the peppers in half long ways and de-seed them. I touch my finger to the inside of the pasilla and taste it to judge the heat. Perfect; pleasantly painful. I then cut the peppers into strips and stack them. I love how the colors mix; the blackish green pasilla, the acidy yellow green of the anaheim, and the true kelly green of the bell pepper. When they are stacked, they become the most beautiful shade, there colors blending and become one glorious green. I chop. I start with a rough chop, then remember how someone I didn't like told me not to chop things so fine, so then I chop the peppers finer, and finer still. until the largest piece is about the size of a peanut. I have to re-sharpen the knife before I am finished. I feel a kinship with the women, all of them, who didn't have the option of canned food, who made everything from scratch. I feel like I am doing something for my family. I feel like the very act of chopping these peppers infuses them with love that will go into my family's body, like light, and heal them from psycic and physical ills. If someone eats my food, they carry my love with them in their cells. I peel the onion, thankful for my contact lenses that keep them from burning my eyes. Still, I can tell this is a strong one. Fumes go up my nose and make me cough. It is a healthy onion, tightly wrapped in in many layers of brown skin, and gleaming white once it is peeled. I only put in one onion, because no matter how strong it is raw, onion turns sweet when you cook it, and I do not want sweet chili. I once ruined an entire batch of red sauce by adding too much onion.
The juggling is almost done. The meat is browned and waiting in an old square pan to be added back. The peppers are sauteing in pan the meat was browned in, picking up the flavors. I give the peppers a good head start before I add the onion. I decide against garlic, since I know I will be adding garlic powder. As the peppers and onions cook, I add the thing that makes it chili; the chili powder. First I add a lot, then I add more. I add cumin, garlic powder and season salt, knowing the salt will help break down the vegetables and cause them to release their juices. When everything is a shiny gritty brownish red, I add the meat back in, along with a little water to loosen everything off the bottom of the pot. All of this has taken about 30 minutes which means the beans have another 30 minutes to simmer before they can be added. That is more than enough time to clean up, and adjust seasoning levels.
The chili now sits on the stove, simmering for several hours, melding all the flavors. The house will be filled with the smell all afternoon. Between dancing and singing Veggie Tales songs with Annie, reading "The Country Girls" and relaxing, I will make corn muffins and honey butter. When Steve and David come in from their afternoon of paint ball, it is the first thing they will smell. When Katie and Alex wake from their respective naps, they will smell it. They both know that asking if someone can eat over is just a formality, because they the answer will be, "Yes, of course! There's enough food for an army."
I cook like this because this is how my Nana cooked. I cook like this because this is how my Aunt Liz cooks.
This is how I make chili, and this is why I cook.

Hello

Life is interesting. Thankfully, it is good interesting, but it is interesting. Having kids ranging in age from 18 to 6 is interesting. Katie was mean and horrible enough to tell me that she is turning 15 in three months. There was no good that could come from that information. I think I am going to forbid it. Yes, that's it. I forbid her turning 15. Will she still watch Ugly Betty with me when she turns 15. Will she still borrow my make-up and ask my advice on outfits for dances? 

Now, onto the economy. Wouldn't I be stimulating the economy if I hired someone to do my laundry? I would be being patriotic, right? Now, if I only had the money to pays someone, and someone were desperate enough to do the most thankless job in the world. No, I guess I have to do it myself. I don't see another way, sadly.

In the mountains

I am in the mountain town of Idyllwild right now with my immediate family. It was an impetuous decision. I had a lovely three day Valentine's Day extravaganza. On Friday before Valentines Steve and I made a "Bistro meal" of French onion soup, Steak au Poirve and Potatoes au Gratin. On Saturday, Valentines day, we went to a friend's house and had a delicious four course seafood meal. There was also great company, witty interesting conversation, and much warmth and love. On Sunday, we made barbecued ribs, fried potatoes and green beans. We had Steve's parents over and ate on the good china. Poppie gave me advice on how to make my book more appealing to men in his age range. I am thinking, maybe not. My mother-in-law, Nonnie is very understanding about having a writer for a daughter-in-law. She dropped in on me the other day, and I was deep in a tangle in the story. I could barely form sentences because I was so pre-occupied. She was gracious and understanding. 

We are getting tons of rain in Temecula. I am loving it. It is making me think differently and making me a homebody. It's driving the dogs crazy though. 

I am very hopeful that I will be able to go visit Prettyface in Georgia around the end of March. 

My computer was hanging on by a thread, and then the tread broke. Luckily, right before it gave up the the ghost, I emailed all my writing to myself. Had I not, I would have lost 3 years of writing, and three partially written novels. 

I used Steve's computer for a while, but that didn't work out all that well. So I got a Mac. Happy, Happy me! I really need to get a book published to justify this purchase. 

Luckily, no-one has been sick for a while. Things are kind of good right now, I hesitate to say. My house is a mess, but I am working hard writing. 

I am on Facebook now. If you Facebook, come see me, and see pics.

Waiting on the locusts

One short week after Annie's 6 day flu, Steve is having a severe allergic reaction to an antibiotic. I am trying like crazy to be the working mom I need to be with out embittering my children. I am trying to do it all on about 6 hours of sleep a night, only sometimes remembering to take my vitamins.

If my family could manage to quit getting fevers, this would all be much easier.

David and I are driving out to the coast tomorrow so he can spend the night with his cousin. Even though my cousin, the mother, offered to meet us half-way, I would rather have the time with him. He has a half-day tomorrow, so we will have from 12 noon until 3:00 together. that is more time that we have had together alone for months. I am looking forward to it.

Today was Writer's Group day. I did not actually write, but I got great notes from three outstanding writers. I got good notes about my over-use of adverbs, and telling what I have already shown. Tomorrow is Help-in-Library day and Bible-Study day. Very little writing will get done tomorrow, but Friday will be a writing day again.
I am grumpy as I get used to my new schedule.
I am excited to finish a piece, finally!

Tuesday, January 27.

Steve was not home today, so I got a lot of writing done. Of course, I had to check everyone else's blog, and leave comments, but eventually, I got to writing.

I did not add any words to the novel today either. In fact, I lost about 300 word, due to revisions.

The word revision is actually the perfect word for this process. The novel is undergoing a change, a new vision, for the direction, and the characters. I am not so much revising it, as revisioning it. This process is pretty enjoyable. It is easier to fix something that is already there, than to come up with something new.

I know now why I chose this novel. I love these characters. I went back and realized I made the main character a little too unlikable. I softened her edges. Also, since I quit smoking, so did she!

I am bummed that the writing part of my day is now over, but I am happy the mothering part is beginning.